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Updated: June 22, 2025
He held out a pass. "This pass am from Gen'ral Jackson," he said. "Am it?" said Langdon, looking at the pass, "Yes, it am." "Is you the orf'cer in command of this yere house?" asked the colored man, his wide mouth parting in an enormous grin that showed his magnificent white teeth. "For the present I am, Sir Knight of the Dark but Kind Countenance. What wouldst thou?"
The widow shuddered. "Me!" Another shudder. "Me marry a saloon keeper! Me! a W.C.T.U. and a I.O.G.T.!" Shelby grinned. "They say I.O.G.T. means 'I Often Get Tight." Somehow he could not resist the ancient rural fling. "You know well 'nuff 'tain't," retorted the widow, indignantly. "It's the Inderpendant Order ov Good Templars, and I'm an orf'cer with regalyer. It's purple, and has gold lace."
'Now I knew that the Colonel was no fool, any more than me, for I was hild the smartest man in the rig'mint, an' the Colonel was the best orf'cer commandin' in Asia; so fwhat he said an' I said was a mortial truth. We knew that the Capt'n was bad, but, for reasons which I have already oblitherated, I knew more than me Colonel.
I've shut my eyes to a dale av dog's thricks to-day, an' now there must be no more av ut. "No more we will. Come an' have a dhrink, me son, sez Peg Barney, staggerin' where he stud. Me little orf'cer bhoy kep' his timper. "'You're a sulky swine, you are, sez Peg Barney, an' at that the men in the tent began to laugh. "I tould you me orf'cer bhoy had bowils.
"Eyah!" sez the man, "was you there too? We'll call ut Silver's Theatre." Half the Tyrone, knowin' the ould place, tuk it up: so we called ut Silver's Theatre. 'The little orf'cer bhoy av the Tyrone was thremblin' an' cryin'. He had no heart for the Coort-martials that he talked so big upon. "Ye'll do well later," sez Crook, very quiet, "for not bein' allowed to kill yourself for amusemint."
'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.
He'd curse me up an' down for my advice; but I knew he was no more a man to be reckoned wid than the little bhoy was a commandin' orf'cer, so I let his tongue run if it aised him. "Wan day 'twas on the way back I was walkin' round camp wid him, an' he stopped an' struck ground wid his right fut three or four times doubtful. 'Fwhat is ut? I sez.
My troth, before the words was out of my mouth, the man on the ground fires at the orf'cer bhoy lanin' over him, an' I saw the helmit fly. I dropped the butt on the face av the man an' tuk his pistol. The little orf'cer bhoy turned very white, for the hair av half his head was singed away.
An' by the Holy Articles av War, whin they wint aboord they cheered him till they cudn't spake, an' that, mark you, has not come about wid a draf' in the mlm'ry av livin' man! You look to that little orf'cer bhoy. He has bowils. 'Tis not ivry child that wud chuck the Rig'lations to Flanders an' stretch Peg Barney on a wink from a brokin an' dilapidated ould carkiss like mysilf.
'Just thin Crook comes up, blue an' white all over where he wasn't red. "Wather!" sez he; "I'm dead wid drouth! Oh, but it's a gran' day!" 'He dhrank half a skinful, and the rest he tilts into his chest, an' it fair hissed on the hairy hide av him. He sees the little orf'cer bhoy undher the Sargint. "Fwhat's yonder?" sez he.
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