Oh my time past, whin I put me jut through wry livin' wan of the Tin Commandments between Revelly and Lights Out, blew the froth off a pewter, wiped me mustache wid the back av me hand, an' slept on ut all as quiet as a little child!
Thus Kipling's Private Terence Mulvaney, a professional fighting man to the tip of his mustaches, but a private after years in the Queen's service ("I was rejuced aftherwards, but, no matther, I was a Corp'ril wanst"). Last week the U.S. Army announced, in effect, that no...
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