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Updated: May 27, 2025
'Tis a Solomon av a rig'lation, is that. I wud like to be inthroduced to the man that made ut. 'Tis easier to get colts from a Kibbereen horse-fair into Galway than to take a bad draf' over ten miles av country. Consiquintly that rig'lation for fear that the men wud be hurt by the little orf'cer bhoy. No matther.
Mac's hands and O'Flynn's performed the same action. Each man seemed to have his pockets full of these "What are they?" "Money-bags, me bhoy! Made out o' the fut o' the 'Lasky swan, God bless 'em! Mac cahls 'em some haythen name, but everybuddy else cahls 'em illegant money-bags!" In less than twenty minutes the steamer whistle shrieked.
Last night she ordered us from his room, and declared that her 'precious bhoy was not going to die like a hathen, surrounded by a parcel of heretics; and she sent off a man on horseback for the priest and for his uncle the very man from whose house he fled, and whom she accuses of being the cause of her son's death. Michael anticipates the arrival of Mr.
An', by the Holy Articles av War, whin they wint aboard they cheered him till they cudn't spake, an' that, mark you, has not come about wid a draf' in the mim'ry av livin' man! You look to that little orf'cer bhoy. He has bowils. 'Tis not ivry child that wud chuck the Rig'lations to Flanders an' stretch Peg Barney on a wink from a brokin an' dilapidated ould carkiss like mesilf.
'Just thin Crook comes up, blue an' white all over where he wasn't red. "Wather!" sez he; "I'm dead wid drouth! Oh, but it's a gran' day!" 'He dhrank half a skinful, and the rest he tilts into his chest, an' it fair hissed on the hairy hide av him. He sees the little orf'cer bhoy undher the Sargint. "Fwhat's yonder?" sez he.
He's as good a bhoy as ever stepped whin his mind's clear. I know fwhat's comin', though, this night in barricks. Lord send he doesn't loose on me whin I rise to knock him down. 'Tis that that's in my mind day an' night." This put the case in a much less pleasant light, and fully accounted for Mulvaney's anxiety.
My commandin' orf'cer save his little soul! cud not see the beauty av of my strategims, an' whin the Ould Rig'mint crossed us, an' that was wanst a week, he'd throt off to Cruik, wid his big blue eyes as round as saucers, an' lay an information against me. I heard thim wanst talkin' through the tent-wall, an' I nearly laughed. "'He runs runs like a hare, sez the little orf'cer bhoy.
Beggar's between the devil and the deep sea properly. He'll chuck up the sponge just now, you'll see." "Eyah!" agreed Slavin, with an oath, "he's up against it. But Reddy down there I du not like th' idea av th' bhoy bein' all alone. Yorkey, yu' shlink thru' th' brush an' down th' bank an' kape um company awhile. Th' Docthor an' me'll kape th' front here covered."
"Yer spakin' ov clothes, Jamie; I'm spakin' ov mind, an' ye wor behind th' doore whin th' wor givin' it out, but begorra, Anna was at th' head ov th' class, an' that's no feerie story, naither, is it, me bhoy?" At the head of Pogue's entry, Bob Dougherty, Tommy Wilson, Sam Manderson, Lucinda Gordon and a dozen others stopped for a "partin' crack." The kettle was boiling on the chain.
"I wint into the crowd our men was dhrawin' breath behin' the Tyrone who was fightin' like sowls in tormint an' prisintly I came acrost little Frehan, our bugler bhoy, pokin' roun' among the best wid a rifle an' bay'nit. "'Is amusin' yoursilf fwhat you're paid for, ye limb? sez I, catchin' him by the scruff. 'Come out av that an' attind to your duty. I sez; but the bhoy was not pleased.
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