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I've shut my eyes to a dale av dog's tricks today, 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.
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.
'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.
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.
A carman who drove me to Castleconnel proved the most interesting politician since Dennis Mulcahy, of Carrignaheela. He knew all about the average English voter, and resented his superior influence in Irish affairs. "Shure, we're all undher the thumb o' a set o' black men that lives undher the bowils o' the airth.
I've shut my eyes to a dale av dog's tricks 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.
"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." 'An' do you know how they did?
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