Produced by Lionel Sear

NICKY-NAN, RESERVIST.

By Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, ('Q')

Contents.

Chap.

I. HOW THE CHILDREN PLAYED.
II. CALL TO ARMS.
III. HOW THE MEN WENT.
IV. THE FIRST SERMON.
V. THE ANONYMOUS LETTER.
VI. TREASURE TROVE.
VII. "QUID NON MORTALIA PECTORIA . . ."
VIII. BUSINESS AS USUAL.
IX. THE BROKEN PANE.
X. THE VICAR'S MISGIVINGS.
XI. THE THREE PILCHARDS.
XII. FIRST ATTEMPT AT HIDING.
XIII. FIRST AID.
XIV. POLSUE V PENHALIGON, NANJIVELL INTERVENING.
XV. THE 'TATY PATCH.
XVI. CORPORAL SANDERCOCK.
XVII. THE SECOND SERMON.
XVIII. FEATHERS.
XIX. I-SPY-HI!
XX. MISS OLIVER PROFFERS ASSISTANCE.
XXI. FAIRY GOLD.
XXII. SALVAGE.
XXIII. ENLIGHTENMENT, AND RECRUITING.
XXIV. THE FIRST THREE.

NICKY-NAN, RESERVIST.

CHAPTER I.

HOW THE CHILDREN PLAYED.

When news of the War first came to Polpier, Nicholas Nanjivell(commonly known as Nicky-Nan) paid small attention to it, beingpreoccupied with his own affairs.

Indeed, for some days the children knew more about it than he, beingtragically concerned in it—poor mites!—though they took it gailyenough. For Polpier lives by the fishery, and of the fishermen alarge number—some scores—had passed through the Navy and nowbelonged to the Reserve. These good fellows had the haziest notionof what newspapers meant by the Balance of Power in Europe, norperhaps could any one of them have explained why, when Austriadeclared war on Servia, Germany should be taking a hand. But theyhad learnt enough on the lower deck to forebode that, when Germanytook a hand, the British Navy would pretty soon be clearing foraction. Consequently all through the last week of July, when theword "Germany" began to be printed in large type in Press headlines,the drifters putting out nightly on the watch for the pilchardharvest carried each a copy of The Western Morning News or TheWestern Daily Mercury to be read aloud, discussed, expounded underthe cuddy lamp in the long hours between shooting the nets andhauling them.

     "When the corn is in the shock,
      Then the fish is on the rock."

A very little of the corn had been shocked as yet; but the fields,right down to the cliffs' edge, stood ripe for abundant harvest.I doubt, indeed, if in our time they have ever smiled a fairerpromise or reward for husbandry than during this last fortnight ofJuly 1914, when the crews, running back with the southerly breeze forPolpier, would note how the crop stood yellower in to-day's than inyesterday's sunrise, and speculate when Farmer Best or farmer Batemeant to start reaping. As for the fish, the boats had made smallcatches—dips among the straggling advance-guards of the great armiesof pilchards surely drawing in from the Atlantic. "'Tis early daysyet, hows'ever—time enough, my sons—plenty time!" promised Un'

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