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"'Faith you've larnt the half av your lesson, sorr, sez I, 'but av you shtick to the Rig'lations you'll niver get thim in-ship at all, at all. Or there won't be a rag av kit betune thim whin you do. "'Twas a dear little orf'cer bhoy, an' by way av kapin' his heart up, I tould him fwhat I saw wanst in a draf' in Egypt." "What was that, Mulvaney?" said I.
"'Faith, you've larnt the half av your lesson, Sorr, sez I, 'but av you shtick to the Rig'lations you'll niver get thim inship at all, at all. Or there won't be a rag av kit betune thim whin you do. "'Twas a dear little orf'cer bhoy, an' by way av kapin' his heart up, I tould him fwhat I saw wanst in a draf in Egypt." "What was that, Mulvaney?" said I.
An' he was a moild man! But I'm digreshin'. 'Tis a shame both to the rig'mints and the Arrmy sendin' down little orf'cer bhoys wid a draf av strong men mad wid liquor an' the chanst av gettin' shut av India, an' niver a punishment that's fit to be given right down an' away from cantonmints to the dock! 'Tis this nonsince.
"I talked to me ould non-coms they was sober an' betune me an' thim we wore the draf' over into their tents at the proper time. The little orf'cer bhoy he comes round, decint an' civil-spoken as might be. "'Rough quarters, men, sez he, 'but you can't look to be as comfortable as in barricks. We must make the best av things.
"'Soft an' aisy, Sorr, sez I; 'you've niver had your draf' in hannd since you left cantonmints Wait till the night, an' your work will be ready to you. Wid your permission, Sorr, I will investigate the camp, an' talk to me ould frinds. 'Tis no manner av use thryin' to shtop the divilmint now. "Wid that I wint out into the camp an' inthrojuced mysilf to ivry man sober enough to remimber me.
'Sivin an' fifty men sittin' on the bank av a canal, laughin' at a poor little squidgereen av an orf'cer that they'd made wade into the slush an' pitch the things out av the boats for their Lord High Mightinesses. That made me orf'cer bhoy woild with indignation. "Soft an' aisy, Sorr," sez I; "you've niver had your draf' in hand since you left cantonmints.
"Bite on that, Peg Barney," I sez; "the night is settin' frosty, an' you'll be wantin' divarsion before the mornin'. But for the Rig'lations you'd be bitin' on a bullet now at the thriangles, Peg Barney," sez I. 'All the draf' was out av their tents watchin' Barney bein' pegged. "'Tis agin the Rig'lations!
"A man he is," sez ould Hother; "the draf's as sick as a herrin'. They'll all go down to the sea like lambs. That bhoy has the bowils av a cantonmint av Gin'rals." "Amin," sez I, "an' good luck go wid him, wheriver he be, by land or by sea. Let me know how the draf gets clear." 'An' do you know how they did?
The tent-ropes was all skew-nosed, an' the pegs looked as dhrunk as the men fifty av thim the scourin's, an' rinsin's, an' Divil's lavin's av the Ould Rig'mint. I tell you, Sorr, they were dhrunker than any men you've ever seen in your mortial life. How does a draf' get dhrunk? How does a frog get fat? They suk ut in through their shkins.
"Just before Revelly, me orf'cer bhoy comes out an' sez: 'Loose those men an' send thim to their tents! Scrub Greene wint away widout a word, but Peg Barney, stiff wid the cowld, stud like a sheep, thryin' to make his orf'cer undherstand he was sorry for playin' the goat. "There was no tucker in the draf' whin ut fell in for the march, an' divil a wurrd about 'illegality' cud I hear.
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