Mold and Gammon
an excerpt

"Jersey, my brother in battle, it's been a trial, is what. And I'm shipping out for parts unknown. All very so. When I return, I'll have lost everything, and Jerry'll be taking over for me, courting the fungus. What a business. But I had to say yes. It was a matter of trade, and I don't mean parkering ninty. Setter years, Jersey. I can't think it. It'll have to roll me over before I have even a grasp of it. But oh, alamo!"

"Seven years? Holy Jesus, Tim -- you can't be serious! We'll never see you again. What can that mean? Where will you be, the Pasha's fecking harim?"

"Oh, I'm just an army lad," he sang. "And there's some as call me mad, but the army's all my fortune evermore>"

"This deserves more than a pint. Weetwood! Alwoodley! Give your man a wake, now. He'll never be seen in here no more. Seven years! Oh, lamentation!