Our camp being a stationary one, was, by comparison with our ordinary
camps, a campe-de-luxe; for, apart from the tent-fly, in it were books,
pillows, and a canvas lounge, as well as some of the flesh-pots of Egypt,
in the shape of eggs, cakes, and vegetables sent out every few days by
Cheon, to say nothing of scrub turkeys, fish, and such things.
Dan had no objection to the eggs, cakes, or vegetables, but the pillows
and canvas lounge tried him sorely. "Thought the chain was to be left
behind in the kennel," he said, and decided that the "next worst thing to
being chained up was" for a dog to have to drag a chain round when it was
out for a run. "Look at me!" he said, "never been chained up all me life,
just because I never had enough permanent property to make a chain--never
more than I could carry in one hand: a bluey, a change of duds, a
mosquito net, and a box of Cockle's pills."
We suggested that Cockle's pills were hardly permanent property, but Dan
showed that they were, with him.
"More permanent than you'd think," he said. "When I've got 'em in me
swag, I never need 'em, and when I've left 'em somewhere else I can't get
'em: so you see the same box does for always.
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