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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Divil a word could I shpake, but I winked at him, and Captain Masham shtandin' by whips out a flask. "'Put that betune his teeth, says he. Whin I got it there, trust me fur not lettin' it go. An' the Sergeant-Major says to me: 'I have hopes of you, Kilquhanity, when you do be drinkin' loike that. "'A foine healthy corpse I am; an' a foine thirsty, healthy corpse I am, says I."
Bitther cowld it was, aw, bitther cowld, and the b'ys droppin' down, droppin', droppin', droppin', wid the Roosian bullets in thim! "'Kilquhanity, says Sergeant-Major Kilpatrick to me, 'it's this shtandin' still, while we do be droppin', droppin', that girds the soul av yer. Aw, the sight it was, the sight it was!
An' they threw another man on, an' I kicked again, and the Sergeant-Major he sees it, an' shouts out. 'Kilquhan ity's leg is kickin'! says he. An' they pulled aff the two poor divils that had been thrown o' tap o' me, and the Sergeant-Major lifts me head, an' he says 'Yer not killed, Kilquhanity? says he.
Kilquhanity could not get the Cure to listen to her, but she was more successful elsewhere. One day she came to get Kilquhanity's pension, which was sent every three months through M. Garon, the Avocat.
Bitther cowld it was, aw, bitther cowld, and the b'ys droppin' down, droppin', droppin', droppin', wid the Roosian bullets in thim! "'Kilquhanity, says Sergeant-Major Kilpatrick to me, 'it's this shtandin' still, while we do be droppin', droppin', that girds the soul av yer. Aw, the sight it was, the sight it was!
The Avocat looked round the room, saw the pipe on the window, and cutting some tobacco from a "plug," he tenderly filled the old black corn-cob. Then he put the stem in Kilquhanity's mouth and held the candle to the bowl. Kilquhanity smiled, drew a long breath, and blew out a cloud of thick smoke.
Kilquhanity could not get the Cure to listen to her, but she was more successful elsewhere. One day she came to get Kilquhanity's pension, which was sent every three months through M. Garon, the Avocat.
'Faith, an' by the Liffey I wish I was this moment' Liffey's in ould Ireland, Frenchies! 'But, Kilquhanity, says he, 'faith, an' it's the Liffey we'll never see again, an' put that in yer pipe an' smoke it! And thrue for him. "But that night, aw that night! Ivery bone in me body was achin', and shure me heart was achin' too, for the poor b'ys that were fightin' hard an' gettin' little for it.
It was a woman, between forty and fifty years of age, who rose slowly to her feet as the Avocat entered, and, without preliminary, put into his hands a document. "That is who I am," she said. "Mary Muddock that was, Mary Kilquhanity that is." The Avocat held in his hands the marriage lines of Matthew Kilquhanity of the parish of Malahide and Mary Muddock of the parish of St. Giles, London.
Kilquhanity's eyes closed, and he buried one side of his head in the pillow, that her shrill voice should not pierce his ears. "The Little Chemist 'll be comin' in a minit, dear Misther Garon," said the wife presently, and she began to fuss with the bedclothes and to be nervously and uselessly busy. "Aw, lave thim alone, darlin'," whispered Kilquhanity, tossing.
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