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"There I was shtandin', when hell broke loose on the b'ys of me rigimint, and divil the wan o' me knows if I killed a Roosian that day or not.
We got betune no barrick quilts that night. No stockin' had I insoide me boots, no shirt had I but a harse's quilt sewed an to me; no heart I had insoide me body; nothin' at all but duty an' shtandin' to orders, me b'ys! "Says Sergeant-Major Kilpatrick to me, 'Kilquhanity, says he, 'there's betther places than River Alma to live by, says he.
"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."
"They tumbled away through the dure, crossin' each other like threes ye'd cut down, lavin' the landlord, struck all iv a heap, the mug on him white as a new twelve-pinny, staggerin' on his two shin-bones, an' thrimblin' an' shiverin' wid fright, till ye'd think he'd shake the teeth out iv his head. "The murdherin' vilyans want shtandin' up to, an' they'll rispict ye. I had no further trouble.
"There I was shtandin', when hell broke loose on the b'ys of me rigimint, and divil the wan o' me knows if I killed a Roosian that day or not.
Now, shtandin' in a tub at the mouth o' the pit to be washed by yer wimmenfolks is what we wouldn't do in this counthry 'tisn't black naygurs we are an' these men that lives in the dark and have no time to think, an' nothin' to think wid, these are the men ye put to rule this counthry, men that they print sich rubbish as Tit-Bits for, because they couldn't understand sinse.
But Sergeant- Major Kilpatrick a bit of a liar was the Sergeant-Major says he: 'It was tin ye killed, Kilquhanity. He says that to me the noight that I left the rigimint for ever, and all the b'ys shtandin' round and liftin' lasses an' saying, 'Kilquhanity! Kilquhanity! Kilquhanity! as if it was sugar and honey in their mouths. Aw, the sound of it!
We got betune no barrick quilts that night. No stockin' had I insoide me boots, no shirt had I but a harse's quilt sewed an to me; no heart I had insoide me body; nothin' at all but duty an' shtandin' to orders, me b'ys! "Says Sergeant-Major Kilpatrick to me, 'Kilquhanity, says he, 'there's betther places than River Alma to live by, says he.
As Dennis Mulcahy remarked, "The ruffians only want shtandin' up to, an' they'll not come nixt or near ye." Mr. Morley would do well to apply this moral to the County Clare. The best authority in Achil said: "The hat is always going round for the islanders, who are much better off than the poor of great English cities. They have the reputation of being in a state of chronic famine.
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!