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"He was shtandin' by th' Gyard-room gate that day-week whin th' dhraft marched out on their way tu enthrain Nobby amongst thim. 'Good-bye, Docthor! he calls out, tears in th' eyes av um, ''Tis sendhin me tu me grave y'are, God forgive yez! "'Nonsince! shouts Knockemorf. 'Say yeh prayers an' kape yeh bowils opin, me man, an' ye will take no harrm!
He luks over some papers an' sez he: 'A change an' a rist is fwhat yu' need, Sarjint Guy. There's a dhraft leavin' next week for Herschell Island I think I will mark yu up fur ut. "'Herschell Island? sez pore Nobby, an' wid that he let's out a howl. "'Tut, tut! sez ould Knockemorf, who was wise tu th' man's throuble. 'Tis safer off there'll yu'll be, man, than here, I'm thinkin'.
But for all that Nobby wud have no thruck wid her, for all she was a widder, well fixed wid a house av her own an' lashuns av money. Whin they was both out av hospital she was afther urn again, an' du fwhat he cud he cud not shake that wumman. "Th' ind av ut was, Nobby reports sick, an' th' reg'minthal docthor, ould 'Knockemorf' Probyn, gives um th' wance over.
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