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take more care of himself up in the Line. "I sent him
out on a short patrol two nights ago, but he stayed
out there nearly an hour and a half and went right
up to the Boche wire." Old Joe agreed that he was
a rare good lad; no cold feet about him; the country
couldn't afford to lose many more like that. . . .

And he got on to his favourite subject—"The
Classes and the Masses". For Joe had been brought
up in the darkest part of Manchester, and he prided
himself on being an old-fashioned socialist. But his
Socialism was complicated by his fair-minded cog-
nizance of the good qualities of the best type of the
officer class, with whom he had been in close contact
ever since he enlisted. He clenched a knotted fist.
"This war", he exclaimed in his husky voice, "is
being carried on by the highest and the lowest in the
land—the blue-blooded upper ten and the poor un-
fortunate people that some silly bastard called 'the
Submerged Tenth9. All the others are making what
they can out of it and shirking the dirty work. Selfish
hogs! And the politicians are no better."

"That's right, Joe. That's the stuff to give 'em!"
said Barton.

And they both drank damnation to the (enigmatic)
part of the population which was leaving all the dirty
work to the infantry. Their generalizations, perhaps,
were not altogether fair. There was quite a lot of
blue blood at G.H.Q.and Army Headquarters. And
Mansfield and Durley, to name only two of our own
officers, were undoubtedly members of "the middle
class", whatever that may be.

My ride with Dick was a great success.  Over the

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