THE ADJUTANT (furiously).  Then for the Lord’s sake get off the line!

THE MOSQUITO.  Ping!  Ping!

THE ADJUTANT.  And stop that ——­ ——­ ——­ buzzing!

THE MOSQUITO.  Ping! Ping!  PING!

THE F.O.O.  Is that C Battery?  There’s—­

FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER (peevishly).  What’s that you’re sayin’?

THE F.O.O. (perseveringly).  Is that C Battery?  There’s an enemy working-party in a coppice at—­

FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER.  This is Beer Company, sir.  Weel, Jock, did ye get a quiet nicht?

SECOND CHATTY SIGNALLER.  Oh, aye.  There was a wee—­

THE F.O.O.  Is that C Battery?  There’s—­

SECOND CHATTY SIGNALLER.  No, sir.  This is Don Company.  Weel, Jimmy, there was a couple whish-bangs came intil—­

REGIMENTAL HEADQUARTERS.  HALLO, BRIGADE!

A CHEERFUL COCKNEY VOICE.  Well, my lad, what abaht it?

REGIMENTAL HEADQUARTERS (getting to work at once).  Hold the line, Brigade.  Message to Staff Captain.  “Ref. your S.C. fourr stroke seeven eight six, the worrking-parrty in question—­”

THE F.O.O. (seeing a gleam of hope).  Working-party?  Is that C
Battery?  I want to speak to—­

THE ADJUTANT. }
BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS. } Get off the line! 
REGIMENTAL HEADQUARTERS. }

FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER.  Haw, Jock, was ye hearin’ aboot Andra?

SECOND CHATTY SIGNALLER.  No.  Whit was that?

FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER.  Weel—­

THE F.O.O. (doggedly).  Is that C Battery?

REGIMENTAL HEADQUARTERS (resolutely).  “The worrking-parrty in question was duly detailed for tae proceed to the rendiss vowse at”—­

THE ADJUTANT.  Is that B Company, curse you?

REGIMENTAL HEADQUARTERS (quite impervious to this sort of thing),—­“the rendiss vowse, at seeven thirrty Akk Emma, at point H two B eight nine, near the cross-roads by the Estamint Repose dee Bicyclistees, for tae”—­honk! honkle! honk!

BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS (compassionately).  You’re makin’ a ’orrible mess of this message, ain’t you?  Shake your transmitter, do!

REGIMENTAL HEADQUARTERS (after dutifully performing this operation). 
Honkle, honkle, honk.  Yang!

BRIGADE HEADQUARTERS.  Buzz it, my lad, buzz it!

REGIMENTAL HEADQUARTERS (dutifully).  Ping, ping!  Ping, ping!  Ping, ping, ping!  Ping—­

GENERAL CHORUS.  Stop that ——­, ——­, ——­, ——­ buzzing!

FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER.  Weel, Andra says tae the Sergeant-Major of
Beer Company, says he—­

THE ADJUTANT.  Is that B Company?

FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER.  No, sir; this is Beer Company.

THE ADJUTANT (fortissimo).  I said Beer Company!

FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER.  Oh!  I thocht ye meant Don Company, sir.

THE ADJUTANT.  Why the blazes haven’t you answered me sooner?