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'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.
He strook him! screeches out Scrub Greene, who was always a lawyer; an' some of the men tuk up the shoutin'. "'Peg out that man! sez my orf'cer bhoy, niver losin' his timper; an' the non-coms wint in and pegged out Scrub Greene by the side av Peg Barney. "I cud see that the draf' was comin' roun'. The men stud not knowin' fwhat to do. "'Get to your tents! sez me orf'cer bhoy.
But the man I struk tuk it in fair fight, an' he had the good sinse not to die. Considher now, fwhat wud ha' come to the Arrmy if he had! I was enthreated to exchange, an' my Commandin' Orf'cer pled wid me. I wint, not to be disobligin', an' Larry tould me he was powerful sorry to lose me, though fwhat I'd done to make him sorry I do not know.
'Twas the sword hangin' on the tent-pole changed my will. "'Can't I help, Sorr? sez I; ''tis a strong man's job they've given you, an' you'll be wantin' help by sundown. He was a bhoy wid bowils, that child, an' a rale gintleman. "'Sit down, sez he. "'Not before my orf'cer, sez I; an' I tould him fwhat my service was. "'I've heard av you, sez he. 'You tuk the town av Lungtungpen nakid.
"Let me go!" sez the little orf'cer bhoy. "Let me go and command my men!" manin' thereby the Black Tyrone which was beyond any command ay, even av they had made the Divil a Field-orf'cer. "His father howlds my mother's cow-feed in Clonmel," sez the man that was sittin' on him. "Will I go back to his mother an' tell her that I've let him throw himself away?
"'Let me go! sez the little orf'cer bhoy. 'Let me go and command my men! manin' thereby the Black Tyrone which was beyond any command ay, even av they had made the Divil a Field orf'cer. "'His father howlds my mother's cow-feed in Clonmel, sez the man that was sittin' on him. 'Will I go back to his mother an' tell her that I've let him throw himself away?
"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.
He cut Peg Barney as near as might be on the oi that I'd squshed whin we first met. Peg wint spinnin' acrost the tent. "Peg him out, Sorr," sez I, in a whishper. "Peg him out!" sez me orf'cer bhoy, up loud, just as if 'twas battalion-p'rade an' he pickin' his wurrds from the Sargint.
Twas the sword hangin' on the tent-pole changed my will. "'Can't I help, sorr? sez I; ''tis a strong man's job they've given you, an' you'll be wantin' help by sundown. He was a bhoy wid bowils, that child, an' a rale gintleman. "'Sit down, sez he. "'Not before my orf'cer, sez I; an' I tould him fwhat my service was. "'I've heard av you, sez he. 'You tuk the town av Lungtungpen nakid.
Private Conklin was a convalescent and should have been tenderly treated. "Ho! "said Private Conklin. "There's another bloomin' orf'cer da- ed." The bucket shot from under him, and his eyes filled with a smithyful of sparks. A tall man in a blue-gray bedgown was regarding him with deep disfavour. "You ought to take shame for yourself, Conky! Orf'cer? bloomin' orf'cer?
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