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Updated: June 7, 2025
'You move 'and or foot, Slane, said Simmons, 'an' I'll kick Jerry Blazes' 'ead in, and shoot you after. 'I ain't movin', said the Corporal, raising his head; 'you daren't 'it a man on 'is legs. Let go o' Jerry Blazes an' come out o' that with your fistes. Come an' 'it me. You daren't, you bloomin' dog-shooter! 'I dare. 'You lie, you man-sticker. You sneakin' Sheeny butcher, you lie.
Will there be any doubt at the Coort-martial? Wud twelve honust sodger-bhoys swear away the life av a dear, quiet, swate-timpered man such as is Mulvaney wid his line av pipe-clay roun' his cot, threatenin' us wid murdher av we overshtepped ut, as we can truthful testify? "'Mary, Mother av Mercy! thinks I to mesilf; 'it is this to have an unruly number an' fistes fit to use!
"You move 'and or foot, Slane," said Simmons, "an' I'll kick Jerry Blazes' 'ead in, and shoot you after." "I ain't movin'," said the Corporal, raising his head; "you daren't 'it a man on 'is legs. Let go o' Jerry Blazes an' come out o' that with your fistes. Come an' 'it me. You daren't, you bloom- in' dog-shooter!" "I dare." "You lie, you man-sticker. You sneakin', Sheeny butcher, you lie.
Chib's opponent and rapturously carried with only one dissentient voice. This was Dogginson's, who said from his place 'Let 'em fight it out with fistes; but whose coarse remark was received as it merited. The beadle now advanced along the floor of the Vestry, and beckoned with his cocked hat to both members. Every breath was suspended.
"He was a quick man an' a just, an' saw fwhat I wud be afther. 'Wid Mrs. Bragin's husband, sez he. He might ha' known by me askin' that favor that I had done him no wrong. "We wint to the back av the arsenal an' I stripped to him, an' for ten minutes 'twas all I cud do to prevent him killin' himself against my fistes.
The pair adjourn to a secluded part of the playground to settle their differences a la Dogginson, "by fighting it out with their fistes." The other boys follow as a matter of course, to see fair play. It is to be regretted that history has not furnished sufficient data to enable us to describe the passage of arms very minutely.
I wanted straight speech an' straight hitting; an' I got 'em, for that matter. An' fightin' 's gude for the blood, I reckon anyway for my fashion blood." "You came to fight me, then?" "I did if I could make 'e fight." "With that gun?" "With nought but a savage heart an' my two fistes. The gun belongs to Sam Bonus. Leastways it did, but 't is mine now or yours, as the party most wronged."
"'That's thrue, sez he, pulling his moustache; 'but I do not believe that you, for all your lip, was in that business. "'Sargint, sez I, 'I cud hammer the life out av a man in ten minuts wid my fistes if that man dishpleased me; for I am a good sodger, an' I will be threated as such, an' whoile my fistes are my own they're strong enough for all work I have to do.
Aftherwards I was well pleased I kept my fistes home. Then our Captain Crook Cruik-na-bul-leen came up. He'd been talkin' to the little orf'cer bhoy av the Tyrone. 'We're all cut to windystraws, he sez, 'but the Tyrone are damned short for noncoms. Go you over there, Mulvaney, an' be Deputy-Sergeant, Corp'ral, Lance, an' everything else ye can lay hands on till I bid you stop.
Look at his sclowed faace all streaming wi' blood! 'S truth! I'd like to sarve you the same, an' I would for two pins! I'm ashamed of 'e!" "He hit wi' his fistes like a gude un," said Will, grinning; "an' he'm made o' the right stuff, I'll swear. Couldn't have done better if he was my awn son. I be gwaine to give un a braave toy bimebye. You see t'other kid's faace come to-morrow!"
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