"There, you see!" and he drew attention to the bullets whistling, singing, and hissing continually around them.

He spoke in the tone of entreaty and reproach that a carpenter uses to a gentleman who has picked up an ax: "We are used to it, but you, sir, will blister your hands.

" He spoke as if those bullets could not kill him, and his half-closed eyes gave still more persuasiveness to his words.