No , my proper name 's John . His proper name 's Mark . Miss Anne , stand clear o ’ that bin . You 'll put your foot through one o ’ those ‘ ock bottles . Now shut it , Miss Anne ! Poulder . Butlers think they 're the Almighty . But his name 's Bartholomew . It 's hidjeous . I do n't give a darn . ‘ Tai n't in the dictionary . It 'll pass . Thirty-four . All for the dinner . They give the Sweated — tea . We 've got to be on the safe side . That 's the escape of gas . Yes . Little blighter I 've never seen before . He 's just gone . You might ‘ arf say so . There 's a lot under a woppin ’ big house like this ; you can n't hardly get to the bottom of it . Ask another . Who 'd want to blow it up ? I 've seen a lot bigger messes than this 'd make , out in the war . Ah ! ‘ Cept that you could n't lay your ‘ and on a bottle o ’ port when you wanted one . I only suggest it 's possible . I say nothin ’ about that . I 'm ashamed of you , Miss Anne , pumpin ’ me ! Try it on your own responsibility , then ; do n't bring me in ! I should n't use that word , at your age . Like Lord William ? What do you think ? We chaps would ha ’ done anything for him out there in the war . Well — that 's the same thing . Ah ! A lot o ’ people thought when the war was over there 'd be no more o ’ that .Used to amuse me to read in the papers about the wonderful unity that was comin ’ . I could ha ’ told ‘ em different . You know such a lot o ’ people , do n't you ? That 's right — we all bars them that tries to get something out of us . Well —— Speaking generally , I bar everybody that looks down their noses at me . Out there in the trenches , there 'd come a shell , and orf 'd go some orficer 's head , an ’ I 'd think : That might ha ’ been me — we 're all equal in the sight o ’ the stars . But when I got home again among the torfs , I says to meself : Out there , ye know , you filled a hole as well as me ; but here you 've put it on again , with mufti . Ah ! Footmen were to ha ’ been off ; but Lord William was scared we would n't get jobs in the rush . We 're on his conscience , and it 's on my conscience that I 've been on his long enough — so , now I 've saved a bit , I 'm goin ’ to take meself orf it . Out o ’ Blighty ! Well- ‘ e can be . Well , I had my bit o ’ fun in the war . Do you ? You 'd ha ’ been just suited . It 's a belief , in the middle classes . Anything from two ‘ undred a year to supertax . Yes . ‘ Tis n't so much the bein ’ virtuous , as the lookin ’ it , that 's awful . Well . Ask him ! Careless ! You stand back , there ! I do n't like the look o ’ that ! Go and fetch Poulder while I keep an eye on it . No . Clear off and get him , and do n't you come back . Cut along . Yes . Hallo ! Bomb ! See ! Look here , you starched antiquity , you and I and that bomb are here in the sight of the stars . If you do n't look out I 'll stamp on it and blow us all to glory ! Drop your civilian swank ! Put up your hands ! Up with ‘ em ! Very good . You 'd have made a first-class Boche , Poulder . Take the bomb yourself ; you 're in charge of this section . Afraid ! You ‘ Op o ’ me thumb ! It wo n't be the Press that 'll stop Miss Anne 's goin ’ to ‘ Eaven if one o ’ this sort goes off . Look out ! I 'm goin ’ to drop it . Lives close by , in Royal Court Mews — No . 3 . I had a word with him before he came down . Lemmy his name is . Look here — go quiet ! I 've had a grudge against you yellow newspaper boys ever since the war — frothin ’ up your daily hate , an ’ makin ’ the Huns desperate . You nearly took my life five hundred times out there . If you squeal , I 'm gain ’ to take yours once — and that 'll be enough . Well , you look it . Hup . Ho ! That 's the one ! Git up in that ‘ ock bin , and mind your feet among the claret . Then it 'll wipe out one by the Press on the Public — an ’ leave just a million over ! Hup ! Mind your feet in Mr. Poulder 's favourite wine ! The complications . ‘ E got up out o ’ remorse , Miss . Yes , when you 've got ‘ im in a nice dark place . I 'm goin ’ to pay it , Miss . ‘ Op off your base , and trust to me . ‘ Igh explosive . Be'ind the parapet , me Lord . There are three old chips in the lobby , my Lord . Very good , my Lord . Wanted for your speech , my Lord . Well , I 'm goin ’ to . No ; but you 've eaten a good bit , on the stairs . What price that Peach Melba ? Lovely ? Ho ! That 's right . Not ‘ arf ! Thinkin ’ . How shall I know ‘ em ? Right-o ! Form fours-by your right-quick march ! Right incline — Mark time ! Left turn ! ‘ Alt ! ‘ Enry , set the bomb ! Stand easy ! I see the eight per cent ., but not the money . We 'll put up a fight over your body : “ Bartholomew Poulder , faithful unto death ! ” Have you insured your life ? Act o ’ God ! Why not ? It is ; and I sympathise with it . I do — only — hands off the gov'nor . I stand in front of ‘ im when the scrap begins ! Well , look at it ! It 's been creepin ’ down ever since I knew you . Talk of your sacrifices in the war — they put you on your honour , and you got stout on it . Rations — not ‘ arf . Keep a civil tongue , or I 'll throw you to the crowd !Shall I tell you why I favour the gov'nor ? Because , with all his pomp , he 's a gentleman , as much as I am . Never asks you to do what he would n't do himself . What 's more , he never comes it over you . If you get drunk , or — well , you understand me , Poulder — he 'll just say : “ Yes , yes ; I know , James ! ” till he makes you feel he 's done it himself .I 've had experience with him , in the war and out . Why he did n't even hate the Huns , not as he ought . I tell you he 's no Christian . And he 'll never be . He 's got too soft a heart . Let ‘ er alone ! Silly ass ! You should take ‘ em lying down ! Crisis in the Cabinet ! What 's that you give me ? If I lose control of meself . Well , I 'll merely empty the pail over you ! Another strategic victory ! What a Boche he 'd have made . As you were , Tommy !That 's a bishop . By the way he 's drawin ’ . It 's the fine fightin ’ spirit in ‘ em . They were the backbone o ’ the war . I see there 's a bit o ’ the old stuff left in you , Tommy . You 've still got a sense of your superiors . Did n't you notice how you moved to Poulder 's orders , me boy ; an ’ when he was gone , to mine ? Look here , Miss Anne — your lights ought to be out before ten . Close in , Tommy ! Good Lord ! What 's this ? No . Have some sense of what 's fittin ’ . Tommy , ketch ‘ em ! No . That 's you . Come ‘ ere ! They are ! ‘ Umour ‘ er a couple o ’ inches , Tommy ! Daughter o ’ the house . That 's ‘ is Grace . ‘ E 's gettin ’ wickets , too . Do you want him in or out , me Lord ? If they get saucy , me Lord , I can always give ‘ em their own back . Me Lord , let me blow ‘ em to glory ! Me Lord !