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Updated: June 27, 2025
"Did ye blow a farmer's brains out in th' famine fur a pint ov milk?" "It's a lie!" Jamie said, indignantly. "Well, me bhoy, there must b' quite a wheen, thrainin' fur me belt in Anthrim!" "There's something in that, Hughie!" "Aye, somethin' Hughie Thornton didn't put in it!" We youngsters were irritated and impatient over what seemed to us useless palaver about minor details.
'Twas the sword hangin' on the tentpole changed my will. "Can't I help, Sorr?" sez I; "'tis a strong man's job they've given you, an' you'll be wantin' help by sundown." He was a bhoy wid bowils, that child, an' a rale gintleman. "Sit down," sez he. "Not before my orf'cer," sez I; an' I tould him fwhat my service was. "I've heard av you," sez he. "You tuk the town av Lungtungpen nakid."
These walks were full of questionings. Big vital questions of life and death and immorality. They were quaintly put: "There's a lot of balderdash about another world, bhoy. On yer oath now, d'ye think there is wan?" "I do." "If there is wud He keep me frum Anna jist because I've been kinda rough?" "I am sure He wouldn't!" "He wudn't be s' d d niggardly, wud He?" "Never!
"It's no good trying to conceal anything from the bhoy," said Clowes. "Sit down, O'Hara mind that chair; it's rather wobbly and I will tell ye the story." "Can you keep a thing dark?" inquired Trevor. O'Hara protested that tombs were not in it. "Well, then, do you remember what happened to Mill's study? That's what's been going on here." O'Hara nearly fell off his chair with surprise.
He cut Peg Barney as near as might be on the oi that I'd squshed whin we first met. Peg wint spinnin' acrost the tent. "Peg him out, Sorr, sez I, in a whishper. "Peg him out! sez me orf'cer bhoy, up loud, just as if 'twas battalion p'rade an' he pickin' his wurrds from the Sargint.
"Are you that?" sez I; "thin I'm O'Connell the Dictator, an' by this you will larn to kape a civil tongue in your rag-box." 'Wid that I stretched Scrub Greene an' wint to the orf'cer's tent. 'Twas a new little bhoy not wan I'd iver seen before. He was sittin' in his tent, purtendin' not to 'ave ear av the racket. 'I saluted but for the life av me I mint to shake hands whin I went in.
"'Crown' him!" gasped Yorke, still grimly hanging onto his man, "'Crown' the good and hard!" Redmond sprang forward, grasping a small, shot-loaded police "billy," but Slavin interposed a huge arm. "Nay!" he said sharply, and with curious eagerness, "Du not 'chrown' um bhoy! lave um tu me!" And he grasped one of the big, struggling man's wrists firmly in a vise-like grip. "Leggo, Yorkey!"
These names are strikingly peculiar, are usually of from four to six syllables, the last being usually "jee" or "bhoy." The Jeejeebhoy family is intensely Parsee, of course, and important enough to possess an English baronetcy. The city's principal hospital was the gift of Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy. Other families of renown in the financial world are the Readymoneys, Jehangirs and Sassoons.
"Says Oi to mesilf whin Oi made up me moind ye wur wid the gints pwhat done ut, said Oi, 'Pat, me bhoy, Ben is yer friend, an' ye are his friend, an' it's up to ye to go along an' foind him an' give him a tip to git under cover before it rains. Oi'm here. It's roight foine luck Oi found yez.
"What's the matther, me bhoy?" asked Garry O'Neil, who was speaking to the skipper, the two examining a chart in the wheel-house, the light from the doorway of which fell on my face. "Faith, ye look quite skeared, Haldane, jist as if ye'd sane a ghoast, sure!" I mentioned what had happened, however, and he at once dropped his chaffing manner, looking as grave as a judge.
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