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Updated: June 9, 2025
"Dis heyah registrashum fo' de draf' am a whole lot like 'lection votin', ain't it?" he asked uncertainly. "Yes," answered the kindly registrar. Rastus scratched his head in troubled doubt. He was thinking deeply. Presently his brow cleared and a smile spread over his face. He had come to a decision. "Den I votes for Julius Jackson ter be drafted," he said. "I nebah did hab no use fo' dat niggah."
"Faith," thinks I, "that's Honour an' Glory"; for 'twas Lift'nint Brazenose did that job. "I'm wid ye, Sorr," sez I, "if I'm av use. They shud niver ha' sent you down wid the draf'. Savin' your presince, Sorr," I sez, "'tis only Lift'nint Hackerston in the Ould Rig'mint can manage a Home draf'."
'I was throllied up six miles, all to get a shquint at that draf'. I knew 'twas a spring draf' goin' home, for there's no rig'mint hereabouts, more's the pity. 'Praise the Virgin! murmured Dinah Shadd. But Mulvaney did not hear.
"I wint to the ould Colour-Sargint and I sez: 'Let me die in glory, sez I. 'I've seen a man this day! "'A man he is, sez ould Hother; 'the draf's as sick as a herrin'. They'll all go down to the sea like lambs. That bhoy has the bowils av a cantonmint av Gin'rals. "'Amin, sez I, 'an' good luck go wid him, wheriver he be, by land or by sea. Let me know how the draf' gets clear.
'Tis a Solomon av a rig'lation, is that. I wud like to be inthroduced to the man that made ut. 'Tis easier to get colts from a Kibbereen horse-fair into Galway than to take a bad draf' over ten miles av counthry. Consiquintly that rig'lation for fear that the men wud be hurt by the little orf'cer bhoy. No matther.
"'Yes, sez he. "'Good, sez I; 'there'll be throuble before the night. Are you marchin', sorr? "'To the next station, sez he. "'Better still, sez I; 'there'll be big throuble. "'Can't be too hard on a Home draf', sez he; 'the great thing is to get thim in-ship.
"I was throllied up six miles, all to get a shquint at that draf'. I knew 'twas a spring draf' goin' home, for there's no rig'mint hereabouts, more's the pity." "Praise the Virgin!" murmured Dinah Shadd. But Mulvaney did not hear.
An', by the Holy Articles av War, whin they wint aboard they cheered him till they cudn't spake, an' that, mark you, has not come about wid a draf' in the mim'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 mesilf.
Well, so thishere young li'l Dills settin' there puffin' an' blowin' his ches' out and in, an' feelin' all nice 'cause it about the firs' time this livin' summer he catch you' Aunt Julia alone to hisse'f fer while an' all time the house dess fillin' up, an' draf' blowin' straight at you' grampaw whur he settin' in his liberry.
Scrub Greene wint away widout a word, but Peg Barney, stiff wid the cowld, stud like a sheep, thryin' to make his orf'cer understhand 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. 'I wint to the ould Colour Sargint and I sez: "Let me die in glory," sez I. "I've seen a man this day!"
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