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 40 A«v)ran awi

 
 Copyright 1897 by Henry Altemui.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGB 
 
 The Three Musketeers, 5 
 
 The Taking of Lunotungpen, . . . .14 
 The Daughter of the Regiment, ... 23 
 The God from the Machine, .... 32 
 Private Learoyd's Story, .... 46 
 The Madness of Private Ortheris, . . 59 
 
 The Solid Muldoon, 71 
 
 "With the Main Guard, 86 
 
 Black Jack, 109 
 
 The Incarnation of Krishna Mulvaney, . 137 
 The Courting of Dinah Shadd, . . .178 
 The Big Drunk Dbaf', 216 
 
 (iii)
 
 THE THREE MUSKETEERS. 
 
 An' when the war began, we oliased the bold Afghan, 
 An' we made the l^loomin' Ghazi for to flee, boys O ! 
 An' we marched into Kabul, and we tuk the Balar 
 
 'Issar, 
 An' we taught 'em to respec' the British Soldier. 
 
 Barrack Room Ballad. 
 
 MuLYANEY, Ortheris and Learoyd are pri- 
 Yates in B Com})any of a line regiment, and 
 personal friends of mine. Collectivel}^ I 
 think, but am not certain, they are the worst 
 men in the regiment so far as genial black- 
 guardism goes. 
 
 They told me this story, the other day, 
 in the Umballa refreshment-room while we 
 were waiting for an up-train. I supplied 
 the beer. The tale was cheap at a gallon 
 and a half. 
 
 Of course you know Lord Benira Trig. 
 He is a duke, or an earl, or something un- 
 official; also a peer; also a globe-trotter. On 
 all three counts, as Ortheris says, "'e didn't 
 deserve no consideration." He was out here 
 for three months collecting materials for a 
 book on "Our Eastern Impedimenta," and 
 quartering himself upon everybody, like a 
 Cossack in evening-dress. 
 
 His particular vice — because he was a 
 Radical, I suppose — was having garrisons 
 
 (5)
 
 6 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 turned out for his inspection. He would 
 then dine with the officer commanding, and 
 insult him, across the mess-table, about the 
 appearance of the troops. That was Benira's 
 way. 
 
 He turned out troops once too often. He 
 came to Helanthami Cantonment on a Tues- 
 day. He wished to go shopping in the ba- 
 zaars on Wednesday, and he "desired" the 
 troops to be turned out on a Thursday. On — a 
 — Thursday ! The officer commanding could 
 not well refuse; for Benira was a lord. There 
 was an indignation meeting of subalterns in 
 the mess-room to call the colonel pet names. 
 
 " But the rale dimonsthrashin," says Mul- 
 vaney, " was in B Corap'ny barrick ; we three 
 headin' it." 
 
 Mulvaney climbed on to the refreshment- 
 bar, settled himself comfortably by the beer, 
 and went on : " Whin the row was at ut's 
 foinest an' B Comp'ny was fur goin* out to 
 murthur this man Thrigg on the p'rade- 
 groun', Learoyd here takes up his helmut 
 an' sez — fwhat was ut ye said ?" 
 
 " Ah said," said Learoyd, "gie us t' brass. 
 Tak oop a subscripshun, lads, for to put off 
 t' p'rade, an' if t' p'rade's not put off, ah'll 
 gie t' brass back agean. Thot's wot ah said. 
 AH B Coomp'ny knawed me. Ah took oop 
 a big subscripshun — fower rupees eight 
 annas 'twas — an' ah went oot to turn t' job 
 over. Mulvaney an' Orth'ris coom with 
 me."
 
 THE THREE MUSKETEERS. 7 
 
 "We three raises the divil in couples 
 gin'rally," exphiined Mulvaney. 
 
 Here Ortheris interrupted. " 'Ave you read 
 the papers?" said he. 
 
 "Sometimes," I said. 
 
 " We 'ad read the papers, an' we put hup 
 a faked decoity, a — a sedukshun." 
 
 "^6dukshun, ye cockney," said Mulva- 
 ney. 
 
 ">16dukshun or sedukshun — no great odds. 
 Any'ow, we arranged to talk an' put INIister 
 Benhira out o' the way till Thursday was 
 hover, or 'e too busy to rux 'isself about 
 p'raids. Hi was the man wot said : * We'll 
 make a few ru])ees off o' the business.' " 
 
 " We hild a council av war," continued 
 Mulvaney, "walkin' roun' by the artill'ry 
 lines. I was prisidint, Learoyd was minister 
 av finance, an' little Orth'ris here was — " 
 
 " A bloomin' Bismarck ! Hi made the 'ole 
 show pay." 
 
 " This interferin' bit av a Benira man," 
 said Mulvaney, " did the thrick for us him- 
 self; for, on me sowl, we hadn't a notion av 
 what was to come afther the next minut. He 
 was shoppin' in the bazaar on fut. 'Twas 
 dhrawin' dusk thin' an' we stud watchin' the 
 little man hoppin' in an' out av the shops, 
 thryin to injuce the naygurs to medium his 
 bat. Prisintly, he sthrols up, his arrums full 
 av thruck, an' he sez in a consiquinshal way, 
 shticking out his little belly : ' Me good men,' 
 sez he, 'have ye seen the kernel's b'roosh?'
 
 8 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 * B'roosh ?' says Learoyd. ' There's no b'roosb 
 here— nobbut a hekkn.' ' Fwhat's that?' sez 
 Thrigg. Learoyd shows him wan down the 
 sthreet, an' he sez : ' How thruly Orientil ! I 
 will ride on a hekkn.'' I saw thin that our rigi- 
 mintil saint was for givin' Thrigg over to us 
 neck and briskit. I purshued a hekka, an' I 
 sez to the dhriver-divil, I sez: 'Ye black 
 limb, there's a sahib comin' for this hekka. 
 He wants to go jildi to the Padsahi Jhil' — 
 'twas about tu moiles away — ' to shoot snipe' 
 — chirria. 'You dhrive Jehannum ke marfik, 
 mnllumf 'Tis no manner nv faider bukkin^ to 
 the sahib, bekaze he doesn't samjao your bat. 
 Av he bolos anything, just you choop and chel. 
 Dekker? Go nrsty for the first arder-xnWe 
 from cantonmints. Then chcL Shaitan ke 
 marfik, an' the chooper you choops an' the jilder 
 you chels the better kooshy will that sahib be ; 
 an' here's a rupee for ye.' 
 
 " The hekka-man knew there was some- 
 thin' out av the common in the air. He 
 grinned and sez: 'Boteachee! I goin' damn 
 fast.' I prayed that the kernel's b'roosh 
 wudn't arrive till me darlin' Benira, by the 
 grace av God, was undher way. The little 
 man puts his thruck into the hekka an' scut- 
 tles in like a fat guinea-pig; niver offerin' 
 us the price av a dhrink for our services in 
 helpin' him home. 'He's off to the Padsahi 
 Jhil,' sez I to the others." Ortheris took up 
 the tale : 
 
 " Jist then, little Buldoo kim up, 'oo was
 
 THE THREE MUSKETEERS. 9 
 
 the son of one of the artillery saises — 'e would 
 'av madea'evinly news])aper-l)oy in London, 
 bein' sharp and fly to all manner o' games. 
 'E 'ad bin watchin' us puttin' INIister Benbira 
 into 's temporary baroush, an' 'e sez : '^^'hat 
 'ave you been a-doin' of, sahibs ?' sez 'e. 
 Learoyd 'e caught 'im b}' the ear an' 'e sez — " 
 
 *'Ah says," went on Learoyd: "'Young 
 mon, that mon's gooin' to have t' goons out 
 o' Thursday — kul — an' thot's more work for 
 you, young mon. Now, sitha, tak a tat an' 
 a lookri, an' ride tha domdest to t' Padsahi 
 Jhil, Cotch tbot there hekka, and tell t 
 driver iv your lingo tbot you've coom to tak 
 his place. T' sahib doesn't speak t' baf, an 
 he's a little mon. Drive t' hekka into t' Pad- 
 sabi Jhil into t' watter. Leave t' sahib tbeer 
 an' roon boam; an here's a rupee for tha." 
 
 Tben Mulvaney and Ortheris spoke to- 
 gether in alternate fragments, Mulvaney 
 leading [You must pick out the two s])eakers 
 as best you can]: " He was a knowin' little 
 divil was Bbuldoo — 'e sez bote achee an' cuts 
 — Avid a wink in his oi — but Hi sez there's 
 money to be made — an' Hi want to see the 
 end av the campaign — so Hi says we'll dou- 
 ble bout to the Padsabi Jbil — and save tbe 
 little man from bein' dacoited by the mur- 
 therin' Bbuldoo — an' turn bup like reskoors 
 in a Ryle Victoria Tbeayter melodrama — so 
 we doubled for the jhil, an' prisintly tbere was 
 the divil of a hurroosb bebind us an' three 
 bhoys on grasscuts' tats come by, poundin'
 
 10 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 along for dear life — s'elp me Bob, hif Bhul- 
 doo 'adn't raised a reizular harmy of decoits — 
 to do the job in shtile. An' we ran, an' they 
 ran, shplittin' with laughin', till we gets near 
 the jhil — and 'ears sounds of distress floatin' 
 raolloncally on the heavenin' hair," [Or- 
 theris was growing poetical under the influ- 
 ence of the beer. The duet recommenced; 
 Mulvaney leading again.] 
 
 " Thin we heard Bhuldoo, the dacoit^ 
 shoutin' to the hekka-man, an' wan of the 
 young divils brought his lakri down on the 
 top av the hekka-cover, an' Benira Thrigg 
 inside howled ' Murther an' death.' Bhuldoo 
 takes the reins and dhrives like mad for the 
 jhil, bavin' dishpersed the hekka-dhriver 
 — 'oo cum up to us an' 'e sez, sezie : ' That 
 sahib's nigh gawbry with funk ! Wot devil's 
 work 'ave you led me into ?' ' Hall right,' 
 sez we, 'you puckroio that there pony an^ 
 come along. This sahib's been decoited, an' 
 we're going to reskv 'im !' Savs the driver: 
 ' Decoits ! Wot decoits? That's Bhuldoo the 
 bud'nash ' — ' Bhuldoo be shot !' sez we. ' 'Tia 
 a woild dissolute pathan frum the hills. 
 There's about eight av 'im coercin'the sahib. 
 You remimber that an' you'll get another 
 rupee!' Then we heard the whop-whop- 
 whop av the hekka turnin' over, an' a splash 
 ov water an' the voice nv Benira Tlirieg call- 
 in' upon God to forgive his sins — an' Bhuldoo 
 an' 'is friends squotterin' in the water like 
 boys in the Serpentine."
 
 TEE THREE MUSKETEERS. 11 
 
 Here the three musketeers retired simul- 
 taneously into the beer. 
 
 " Well? What came next?" said I. 
 
 " Fwhat nex'?'' answered Mulvaney, wip- 
 ing his mouth. " Wud you let three bould 
 sodger-blioys lave the ornamint av the House 
 av Lords to be dhrowned an' dacoited in a 
 jhil? We formed line av quarther-column 
 an' we desinded U]ion the inimy. For the 
 better part av tin minutes you coukl not hear 
 yerself spake. The tattoo was screamin' in 
 chune wid Benira Thrigg an' Bhuldoo's 
 army, an' the shticks was whistlin' roun' the 
 hekica, an' Orth'ris was beatin' the hekka- 
 cover wid his fistes, an' Learoyd yellin': 
 'Look out for their knives !' an' me cuttin' 
 into the dark, right an' lef, dishpersin' 
 arrmy corps av pathans. Holy Mother av 
 ^Moses ! 'twas more disp'rit than Ahmid 
 Kheyl wid Maiwund thrown in. Afther 
 awhile Bhuldoo an' his bhoys flees. Have 
 ye iver seen a rale live lord thryin' to hide 
 his nobility undher a fut an' a half av brown 
 jhll wather ? 'Tis the livin' image av a bhistts 
 mussick wid the shivers. It tuk toime to per- 
 shuade me frind Benira he was not disim- 
 bowiled ; an' more toime to get out the 
 hekka. The dhriver come up afther the bat- 
 tle, swearin' he tuk a hand in repulsin' the 
 inimy. Benira was sick wid the fear. We 
 escorted him back, very slow, to canton- 
 mints, for that an' the chill to soak into him. 
 It suk! Glory be to the rigimintil saint.
 
 12 MULVAXEY STORIE!^. 
 
 but it ?uk to the marrow av Lord Benira 
 Thrigg!" 
 
 Here Ortheris, slowly, with immense 
 pride: " 'E sez: 'You har my noble pre- 
 servers,' sez 'e. * You har a Aonor to the 
 British Harmy,' sez 'e. With that 'e de- 
 scribes the hawful band of decoits wot 
 set on 'im. There was about forty of 'em 
 an, 'e was hoverpowered by numbers, so 'e 
 was; but 'e never lust 'is presence of mind, 
 so 'e didn't. 'E guv the hekka-driver five 
 rupees for 'is noble hassistance, an' 'e said 'e 
 would see to us after 'e 'ad spoken to the 
 kernul. For we was a /ionor to the regi- 
 ment, we was." 
 
 "An' we three," said Mulvaney, with a 
 seraphic smile, "have dhrawn tl^e par-ti- 
 cu-lar attinshin av Bobs Bahadur more 
 than wanst. But he's a rale good little 
 man is Bobs. Go on, Orth'ris, me son." 
 
 " Then we leaves 'im at the kernul's 'ouse, 
 werry sick, an' we cuts over to B Comp'ny 
 barrick, an' we sez we 'ave saved Benira 
 from a blood}' doom, an' the chances was 
 agin there bein' p'raid on Thursday. About 
 ten minutes later comes three envelicks, 
 one for each of us. S'elp me Bob, if the 
 old bloke 'adn't guv us a fiver apiece — 
 sixty-four dibs in the bazaar! On Thurs- 
 daj' 'e was in 'orspital recoverin' from 's 
 sanguinary encounter with a gang of pa- 
 thans, an' B Company was drinkin' 'em 
 selves inter clink by squads. So there never
 
 THE THREE 3IUSKETEERS. 13 
 
 was no Thursday p'raid. But the kernul, 
 Avhen 'c 'eard of our gallant conduct, 'e sez: 
 * Hi know there's been some devilry some- 
 wheres,' scz 'e, ' but Hi can't bring it 'ome 
 to you three.' " 
 
 "An' my privit imprisshin is," said Mul- 
 vane}', getting off the bar and turning his 
 glass upside down, "that, av they had 
 known they wudn't have brought ut home. 
 'Tis flyin' in the face, firstly av Nature, 
 second, av the rig'lations, an' third, the 
 will av Terence Mulvaney, to hold p'rades 
 av Thursdays." 
 
 "Good, ma son!" said Learoyd ; "but, 
 young mon, what's t' note-book for?" 
 
 " I.et be," said Mulvaney ; " this time next 
 month we're in the ' Sherapis.' 'Tis immor- 
 tal fame the gintleman's goin' to give us. 
 But kape it dhark till we're out av the range 
 av me little frind Bobs Bahadur." 
 
 And I have obeyed Mulvaney 's order.
 
 THE TAKING OF LUNG- 
 TUNGPEN. 
 
 So we loosed a bloomin' volley, 
 An' we made the beggars cut, 
 An' when our poncli was emptied out, 
 We used the bloomin' butt. 
 Ho ! My ! 
 
 Don't yer come anigb, 
 "\Mien Tommy is a-playin' with the baynit an' the 
 butt. — Barrack Room Ballad. 
 
 My friend Private Mulvaney told me this, 
 sitting on the parapet of the road to Dag- 
 shai, when we were hunting butterflies to- 
 gether. He had theories about the army, 
 and colored clay pipes perfectly. He said 
 that the young soldier is the best to work 
 with, " on account av the surpassin' inno- 
 cinse av the child."' 
 
 "Now, listen!" said Mulvaney, throwing 
 himself full length on the wall in the sun. 
 " I'm a born scutt av the barrick-room ! 
 The army's mate an' dhrink to me, bekase 
 I'm wan av the few that can't quit ut. I've 
 put in sivinteen years, an' the pipe-clay's 
 in the marrow av me. Av I cud have kept 
 out av wan big dhrink a month, I wud have 
 been a hon'ry lift'nint by this time — a nui- 
 since to my betthers, a laughin'-shtock to 
 my equils, an' a curse to meself. Bein' 
 (14)
 
 THE TAKIXG OF LUXGTUXGPEX. 15 
 
 fu'hat I am, I'm Privit Mulvaney, wid no 
 good-comluc' ])ay an' a devourin' thirst. 
 Always barrin' me little frind Bobs Baha- 
 dur, I know as much about the army as 
 most men." 
 
 I said something here. 
 
 "Wolseleybe shot! Betune you an' me 
 an' that butterfly net, he's a ramblin', in- 
 coherint sort av a divil, wid wan oi on the 
 quane an' the coort, an' the other on his 
 blessed silf — everlastin'ly playing Saysar 
 an' Alexandrier rowled into n lump. Now 
 Bobs is a sinsible little man. Wid Bobs an' 
 a few three-year-olds, I'd swape any army 
 av the eartii into a jhainm, an' throw it 
 away aftherward. Faith, I'm not jokin'I 
 'Tis the bhoys — the raw bhoys— that don't 
 know fwhat a bullut manes, an' wudn't care 
 av they did — that dhu the work. They're 
 crammed wid bull-mate till they fairly ramps 
 wid good livin'; an' thin, av they don't 
 fight, they blow each other's bids off. 'Tis 
 the trut'" I'm tellin' you. They shud be 
 kept on dal-hhnt an' hifri in tbe hot weather; 
 but there'd be a mutn'y iv 'twas done. 
 
 " Did ye iver hear how Privit Mulvaney 
 tuk the "town av Lungtungpen? I thought 
 not! 'Twas the lift'nint got the credit; but 
 'twas me planned the schame. A little be- 
 fore I was inviladed from Burma, me an' 
 four-an'-twinty young wans undher a Lift'- 
 nint Brazeno'se was ruinin' our dijeshins 
 thryin' to catch dacoits. An' such double-
 
 16 MUL VA XEY STORIES. 
 
 ended divils I niver knew ! 'Tis on!}' a dak 
 an' a Snider that makes a dacoit. Widout 
 thim, he's a paceful cultivator, an' felony 
 for to shoot. We hunted, an' we hunted, 
 an' tuk fever an' elephints now an' again ; 
 but no dacoits. Evenshually, we puckaroived 
 wan man. 'Trate him tinderly,' sez the 
 lift'nint. So I tuk him away into the jun- 
 gle, wid the Burmese interprut'r an' ray 
 clanin'-rod. Sez I to the man: 'My paceful 
 squireen,' sez I, ' you shquot on your hun- 
 kers an' dimonstrate to my frind here where 
 your frinds are whin they're at home?' 
 Wid that I introjuced him to the clanin'- 
 rod, and he comminst to jabber; the inter- 
 prut'r interprutin' in betweens, an' me 
 helpin' the intilligince departmint wid my 
 clanin'-rod whin the man misremimbered. 
 
 " Prisintly, I learnt that, acrost the river, 
 about nine miles away, was a town just 
 dhrippin' wid dahs, an' bobs an' arrows, an' 
 dacoits, an' elephints, an' jingles. 'Good!' 
 sez I. ' This office will now close.' 
 
 "That night I went to the lift'nint an' 
 communicates ray information. I never 
 thought much of Lift'nint Brazenose till 
 that night. He was shtifF wid books an' 
 the-ouries, an' all manner av thrimmin's 
 no manner av use. 'Town did ye say?' 
 sez he. 'Accordin' to the the-ouries nv war, 
 we shud wait for reinforceraints.' ' Faitli !' 
 thinks I, ' we'd betther dig our graves thin ;' 
 for the nearest throops was up to their
 
 THE TAKING OF LUXGTUXGPF.X. 17 
 
 shtocks in the marshe? out Mimbu way. 
 'But,' says the lift'nir ^ 'since 'tis a speshil 
 case, I'll make an excepshin. We'll visit 
 this Lungtungpen to-night.' 
 
 "The bhoys was fairly woikl wid deloight 
 whin I tould 'em ; an' by this an' that, they 
 wint through the jungle like buck rabbits. 
 About midnight we come to the shtrame 
 which I had clane forgot to minshin to my 
 orficer. I was on, ahead, wid four bhoys, 
 an' I thought that the lift'nint might want 
 to the-ourize. ' Shtrip, bhoys !' sez I. ' Shtrip 
 to the buff, an' shwim in where glory waits!' 
 'But I can't shwim !' sez two av thim. 'To 
 think I should live to hear that from a bhoy 
 wid a board-school edukashin !' sez I. 'Take 
 a lump av timber, an' me an' Conolly here 
 will ferry ye over, ye young ladies!' 
 
 '■ We got an ould tree-trunk, an' pushed 
 off wid the kits an' the rifles on it. The 
 night was chokin' dhark, an' just as we 
 was fairly embarked, I heard the lift'nint 
 behind av me callin' out. ' There's a bit av 
 a nullah here, soor,' sez I, 'but I can feel the 
 bottom already.' So I cud, for I was not a 
 yard from the bank. 
 
 " ' Bit av a nullah ! Bit av an eshtuary !' 
 sez the lift'nint. 'Go on, ye mad Irishman ! 
 Shtrip bhoys.' I heard him laugh; an' the 
 bhoys begun shtrippin' an' rollin' a log into 
 the wather to put their kits on. So me an' 
 Conolly shtruck out in the warm wather wid 
 our log, an' the rest come on behind. 
 2
 
 1 8 MUL VAXEY STORIL^ 
 
 " That shtrame was miles woide ! Orth*ris, 
 on the rear-rank lo^, whispers we had got 
 into the Thames below Sheerness by mis- 
 take. ' Kape on shwimmin', ye little blay- 
 guard,' sez I, 'an' don't go pokin'your dirty 
 jokes at the Irriwaddy.' ' Silince, men!* 
 sings out the lift'nint. So we swum on into 
 the black dhark, wid our chests on the logs, 
 trustin' in the saints an' the luck av the 
 British army. 
 
 "Evenshually we hit ground — a bit av 
 sand — an' a man. I put my heel on the 
 back av him. He skreeched an' ran. 
 
 " ' Now we've done it !' sez Left'nint Braze- 
 nose. 'Where the divil is Lungtungpen?' 
 There was about a minute and a half to wait. 
 The bhoys laid a hould av their rifles an' 
 some thried to put their belts on ; we was 
 marchin' wid fixed baynits av course. Thin 
 we knew where Lungtungpen was ; for we 
 had hit the river-wall av it in the dhark, an' 
 the whole town blazed wid thim messin' 
 jingles an' Sniders like a cat's back on a 
 frosty night. They was firin' all ways at 
 wanst, but over our heads into the shtrame. 
 
 "'Have you got your rifles?' sez Braze- 
 nose. ' Got 'em !' sez Orth'ris. ' I've got that 
 thief Mulvaney's for all my back pay, an' 
 she'll kick my heart sick wid that blunderin' 
 long shtock av hers.' ' Go on !' yells Braze- 
 noze, whippin' his sword out. ' Go on an' 
 take the town I An' the Lord have mercy on 
 our sowls 1'
 
 THE TAKING OF LUNGTUNGPEX. 19 
 
 " Thin the l)hoys crave one divnstatin' howl, 
 an' pranced into the dhark, feelin' for the 
 town, an' blindin' an' stiffinin' like cavalry 
 ridin' masters whin the grass pricked their 
 bare legs. I hannnered wid the butt at some 
 bamboo thing that felt wake, an' the rest 
 come an' hammered contagious, while the 
 jingles was jingling, an' feroshus yells from 
 inside was spldittin' our ears. We was 
 too close under the wall for thim to hurt us. 
 
 " Evenshually the thing, whatever ut 
 was, bruk ; an' the six-and-twinty av us 
 tumbled, wan afther the other, naked as we 
 was borrun, into the town of Lungtungpen. 
 There was a meelly av a sumpshus kind for 
 a whoile; but whether they tuk us, all white 
 an' wet, for a new breed av divil, or a new 
 kind av dacoit, I don't know. They ran as 
 though we were both, an' we wint into thim, 
 baynit an' butt, shriekin' wid laughin'. There 
 was torches in the sthreets, an' I saw little 
 Orth'ris rubbin' his showlther ivry time he 
 loosed my long-sthock Martini ; an' Braze- 
 nose walkin' into the gang wid his sword, 
 like Diarmid av the Golden Collar — barrin' 
 he hadn't a stitch av clothin' on him. We 
 diskivered elephints wid dacoits under their 
 bellies, an', what wid wan thing an' another, 
 we was busy till mornin' takin' possession 
 av the town of Lungtungpen. 
 
 "Thin we halted an' formed up, the wim- 
 men howlin' in the houses an' Lift'nint 
 Brazenose blushin' pink in the light av the
 
 20 JIZ^LVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 raornin' sun. 'Twas tlie most ondasint p'rade 
 I iver tuk a liand in. Foive-and-twinty 
 privits an' a orficer av the line in review or- 
 dher, an' not as much as wud dust a fife be- 
 tune 'em all in the way av clothin' ! Eight 
 av us had their belts an' pouches on ; but the 
 rest had gone in wid a handful av cartridges 
 an' the skin God gave thim. They was as 
 nakit as Vanus. 
 
 '"Number off from the right!' sez the 
 lift'nint. 'Odd numbers fall out to dress; 
 even numbers pathrol the town till relieved 
 by the dressin' parthy.' Let me tell you, pa- 
 throllin' a town wid nothin' on is an exjniy- 
 rience. I pathrolled for tin minutes, an' be- 
 gad, before 'twas over, I blushed. The 
 women laughed so. I niver blushed before 
 or since ; but I blushed all over my carkiss 
 thin. Orth'ris didn't pathrol. He sez only: 
 * Portsmith Barricks an' the 'Ard av a Sun- 
 day!' Thin he lay down an' rowled any- 
 ways wid laughin'. 
 
 " When we was all dhressed, we counted 
 the dead — sivinty-foive dacoits, besides 
 wounded. We tuk five elephints,a hunder' 
 an' sivinty Sniders, two hunder' dabs, and a 
 lot av other burglarious thruck. Not a man 
 av us was hurt — excep' may be the lift'nint, 
 an' he from the shock to his dasincy. 
 
 " The headman av Lungtungpen, who sur- 
 rinder'd himself, asked the interprut'r: ' Av 
 the English fight like that wid their clo'es off, 
 what in the wurruld do they do wid their
 
 THE TAKING OF LUNGTUXGrEX. 21 
 
 clo'es on ?' Orth'ris began rowlin' his eyes 
 an' crackin' his fingers an' dancin' a step- 
 dance for to impress the headman. He ran 
 to his house; an' we spint the rest av the 
 day carryin' the lift'nint on our showhhers 
 round the town, an' play in' wid the Bur- 
 mese babies — fat, Uttle, brown little divils, as 
 pretty as pictures. 
 
 " Whin I was inyiladed for the dysent'ry 
 to India, I sez to the lift'nint: ' Sorr,' sez I, 
 'you've the makin's in you av a great man ; 
 but, av you'll let an ould sodger spake, 
 you're too fond of the-ourisin'.' He sliuk 
 hands wid me and sez : 'Hit high, hit lew, 
 there's no plasin you, Mulvaney. You've 
 seen me waltzin' througli Lungtungpen like 
 a Red Injun widout the war paint,an' you say 
 I'm too fond av the-ourisin'?' 'Sorr,' sez I, 
 for I loved the bhoy, ' I wud waltz wid you 
 in that condishin through hell, an 'so wud the 
 rest av the men !' Thin I wint down-sthrame 
 in the flat an' left him my blessin'. IMay 
 the saints carry ut where ut shud go, for he 
 was a fine upstandin' young orficer. 
 
 " To reshume: Fhwat I've said jist shows 
 the use av three-year-olds. Wud fifty sea- 
 soned sodgers have taken Lungtungpen in the 
 dhark that way? No! They'd know the 
 risk av fever an' chill, let alone the shoot- 
 in.' Two hunder' might have done ut. But 
 the three-year-olds know little an' care less ; 
 an' where there's no fear, there's no danger. 
 Catch thim young, feed thim high, an' by
 
 22 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 the honor av that great, little man, Bobs, be- 
 hind a good orficer 'tisn't only dacoits they'd 
 smash wid their clo'es off — 'tis con-ti- 
 nental ar-r-r-r-mies ! They tuk Lungtungpen 
 nakid; an' they'd take St. Pethersburg in 
 their dhrawers! Begad, they would that! 
 
 " Here's your pipe, sorr ! Shmoke her tin- 
 derly wid honey-dew, afther letting the reek 
 av the canteen plug die away. But 'tis no 
 good, thanks to you all the same, fiUin' my 
 pouch wid your chopped bhoosa. Canteen 
 baccy's like the army. It shpoils a man's 
 taste for moilder things." 
 
 So saying, Mulvaney took up his butter- 
 fly-net/and returned to barracks.
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF THE 
 REGIMENT. 
 
 Jain 'Ardin' was a Sarjint's wife, 
 
 A Sarjint's wife wus she. 
 She married of 'im in Orldersbort 
 An' corned acrost tlie sea. 
 (Chorus) 'Ave you never 'eard tell o' Jain 'Ardin'? 
 
 Jain 'Ardin'? 
 Jain 'Ardin'? 
 'Ave you never 'eard tell 'o Jain 'Ardin'? 
 The pride o' the C<inipane<?? 
 
 Old Barrack Room Ballad. 
 
 " A GENTLEMAN "u-ho doesn't know the Cir- 
 cassian circle ought not to stand up for it — 
 puttin' everybody out." That was what 
 Miss McKenna said, and the sergeant who 
 was my vis a-vis looked the same thing. I 
 was afraid of Miss McKenna. She was six 
 feet high, all yellow freckles and red hair, 
 and was simply clad in white satin shoes, a 
 pink muslin dress, and apple-green stufif 
 sash, and black silk gloves, with yellow roses 
 in her hair. Wherefore I fled from Miss 
 McKenna and sought my friend Private Mul- 
 vanev who was at the cant — refreshment- 
 table. 
 
 " So you've been dancin' witli little Jhansi 
 McKenna, sorr — she that's goin' to marry 
 Corp'ril Slane ? Whin you next conversh 
 
 (23)
 
 24 MUL VAXE Y STORIES. 
 
 wid your lorruds an' your ladies, tell thim 
 you'Ve danced wid little Jhansi. 'Tis a 
 thing to be proud av." 
 
 But I wasn't proud. I was humble. I 
 saw a story in Private Mulvaney's eye ; and, 
 besides, if he stayed too long at the bar, he 
 would, I knew, qualify for more pack-drill. 
 Now to meet an esteemed friend doing pack- 
 drill outside the guard-room is embarrass- 
 ing, especially if you happen to be walking 
 with his commanding-officer. 
 
 " Come on to the parade-ground, Mul- 
 vaney, it's cooler there, and tell me about 
 Miss" McKenna. What is she, and who is 
 she, and why is she called 'Jhansi'?" 
 
 " D'ye mane to say 3'ou've niver heard av 
 ould Pummeloe's daughter ? An' you think- 
 in' you know things ! I'm wid ye in a min- 
 ut' whin me poipe's lighted." 
 
 We came out under the stars. Mulvaney 
 sat down on one of the artillery bridges and 
 began in the usual way, his pipe between his 
 teeth, his big hands clasped and droj)ped 
 between his knees, and his cap well back on 
 his head. 
 
 " Whin Mrs. Mulvaney, that is, was Miss 
 Shad that was, you were a dale 3'ounger than 
 you are now, an' the army was dift'rint in 
 sev'ril e-senshuls. Bhoys have no call for 
 to marry nowadays, an' that's why the army 
 has so few rale, good, honust. swearin' strap- 
 agin', tinder-hearted, heavy-futted wives as 
 ut used to have whin I was a cor'pril. I
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT. 25 
 
 was reJLiced afterward — but no niatther — I 
 was a cor'pril "wanst. In thim times a man 
 lived an' died wid liis rigimint; an' by na- 
 tur', he married whin he was a man. Whin 
 I was cor'pril — Mother av Hivin, how the 
 rigimint has died an' beenborrun since that 
 day — my color-sar'jint was ould McKenna, 
 an' a married man tu. An' his woife — his 
 first woife, for he married three times did 
 ^McKenna — was Bridget McKenna, from 
 Portarlington, like mesilf. I've misremem- 
 bered fwhat her first name was ; but in B 
 Comp'ny we called her 'Ould Pummeloe' 
 by reason av her figure, which was entirely 
 cir-cum-fe-renshil. Like the big dhrum ! 
 Now that woman — God rock hersowl to rest 
 in glory — was for everlastin' bavin' child- 
 her ; an' McKenna, whin the fifth or sixth 
 come squallin' on to the musther roll, swore 
 he wud number them off in the future. But 
 ould Pummeloe she prayed av him to chris- 
 ten thim afther the names of the stations 
 they was borrun in. So there was Colaba 
 McKenna, an' Muttra McKenna, an' a whole 
 presidincy av other McKennas, an' little 
 Jhansi, dancin' over yonder. Whin the 
 children wasn't bornin', they was dyin'; for, 
 av our childer die like sheep in these days, 
 they died like flies thin. I lost me own lit- 
 tle Shad — but no matther. 'Tis long ago, 
 and Mrs. Mulvaney niver had another. 
 
 " I'm digresshin'. Wan divil's hot sum- 
 mer there come an order from some mad
 
 26 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 ijjit, whose name I raisremember, for the rig- 
 imint to go up-country. ISIay be they wanted 
 to know^ liow the new rail carried throops. 
 They kncAV ! On me sowl, they knew before 
 they was done! Ould Pummeloe had just 
 buried Muttra McKenna ; an' the season be- 
 in' onwholesinijOnly little Jhansi McKenna, 
 who was four years ould thin, was left on 
 hand. 
 
 " Five children gone in fourteen months. 
 'Twas harrd, wasn't ut? 
 
 " So we wint up to our new station in that 
 blazin' heat — may the curse av Saint Law- 
 rence conshume the man w^ho gave the or- 
 dher! Will I ivir forgit that move? They 
 gave us tAvo wake thrains to the rigimint ; an' 
 we was eight hunder' and sivinty strong. 
 There was A, B, C an' D Comp'nies in the 
 secon' thrain, wid twelve women, no orficers* 
 ladies, an' thirteen childher. We was to go six 
 hunder' miles, an' railways was new in thim 
 days. Whin we had been a night in the 
 belly av the thrain — the men ragin' in their 
 shirts an' dhrinkin' anything they cud find, 
 an' eatin' bad fruitstuff whin they cud, for 
 we cudn't stop 'em — I was a cor'pril thin 
 — the cholera bruk out wid the dawnin' av 
 the day. 
 
 " Pray to the saints, you may niver see 
 cholera in a throop-thrain ! 'Tis like the 
 judgmint av God hittin' down from the 
 nakid sky! We run into a rest-camp — as ut 
 might have been Ludianny, but not by any
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT. 27 
 
 means so comfortable. The orficer com- 
 mandin' sent a telegrapt up the line, three 
 hunder' mile up, askin' for help. Faith, we 
 wanted ut, for ivry sowl av the followers ran 
 forthe dear life as soon as the thrain stopped; 
 an' by the time that telegrapt was writ, there 
 wasn't a naygur in the station exceptin' the 
 telegrapt clerk — an' he only bekaze he was 
 held down to his chair by the scruff av his 
 sneakin' black neck. Thin the day began 
 wid the noise in the carri'ges, an' the rattle 
 av the men on the platform fallin' over, arms 
 an' all, as they stud for to answer the com- 
 p'ny muster-roll before goin' over to the 
 camp. 'Tisn't for me to say what like the 
 cholera was like. May be the doctor cud ha' 
 tould, avhe hadn't dropped on to the plat- 
 form from the door av a carri'ge where he 
 was takin' out the dead. He died wid the 
 rest. Some bho^'s had died in the night. 
 We tuk out sivin, an' twinty more was sick- 
 enin' as we tuk thim. The women was hud- 
 dled up any ways, screamin' wid fear. 
 
 '■ Sez the commandin' orficer, whose name 
 I misremember : ' Take the women over to 
 that tope av trees yonder. Get thim out av 
 the camp. 'Tis no place for thim.' 
 
 " Ould Pummeloe was sittin' on her bed- 
 din'-rowl, thryin'to kape little Jhansi quiet. 
 'Gooff to that tope!' sez the orficer. 'Go 
 out av the men's way !' 
 
 " ' Be damned av I do !' sez ould Pum- 
 meloe, an' little Jhansi, squattin' by her
 
 28 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 mother's side, squeaks out: ' Be damned av 
 I do,' tu. Then ould Pummeloe turns to 
 the women an' she sez : ' Are ye goin' to let 
 the bhoys die while you're picnickin', ye 
 sluts?' sez she. ' 'Tis wather they want. 
 Come on an' help.' 
 
 " Wid that, she turns up her sleeves an' 
 steps out for a well behind the rest-cani]) — 
 little Jhansi trottin' behind wid a loUih an' 
 string, an' the other women followin' like 
 lambs, wid horse-buckets and cookin' deg- 
 chies. Whin all the things was full, ould 
 Pummeloe marches back into camp — 'twas 
 like a battle-field wid all the glory missin' — 
 at the hid av the rigimint av women. 
 
 " ' McKenna, me man !' she sez, wid a 
 voice on her like grand-roun's challenge, 
 ' tell the bhoys to be quiet. Ould Pum- 
 meloe's a-comin' to look afther thim — wid 
 free d brinks.' 
 
 " Thin we cheered, an' the cheerin' in 
 the lines was louder than the noise av 
 the poor divils wid the sickness on thim. 
 But not much. 
 
 " You see, we was a new an' raw rigi- 
 mint in those days, an' we cud make 
 neither head nor tail av the sickness; an' 
 so we was useless. The men was goin' 
 roun' an' about like dumb sheep, waitin' 
 for the nex' man to fall over, an' sayin' 
 undher their spache : ' Fwhat is ut? In the 
 name av God, fwhat is ut?' 'Twas horrible. 
 But through ut all, up an' down, an' down
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF THE EEGIJilEXT. 29 
 
 an' up, wint ould Pummeloe an' little 
 Jhansi — all we cud see av the baby, undher a 
 dead man's helmet wid the chin-strap swing- 
 in' about her little stummick — up an' down 
 wid the water an' fwhat brandy there was. 
 
 " Now an' thin ould Pummerloe, the tears 
 runnin' down her fat, red face, sez: 'Me 
 bhoys, me poor, dead darlin' bhoys!' But, 
 for the most, she was thryin' to put heart 
 into the men an' kape thim stidd}^ ; an' 
 little Jhansi was tellin' thim all they wud 
 be ' betther in the mornin'.' *Twas a thrick 
 she'd picked up from hearin' old Pum- 
 meloe whin Muttra was burnin' out wid 
 fever. In the mornin'! 'Twas the iver- 
 lastin' mornin' at St. Peter's Gate w^as the 
 mornin' for sivin-an'-twinty good men; an' 
 twinty more was sick to the death in that 
 bitter, burnin' sun. But the women worked 
 like angils, as I've said, an' the men like 
 divils, till two doctors come dow^n from 
 above, an' we was rescued. 
 
 " But, just before that, ould Pummeloe, 
 on her knees over a bhoy in my squad — 
 right-cot man he was to me in the bar- 
 rick — tellin' him the wurrud av the Church 
 that niver failed a man yet, sez ; ' Hould me 
 up, bhoys! I'm feelin' bloody sick!' 'Twas 
 the sun, not the cholera, did ut. She mis- 
 remembered she was only wearin' her ould 
 black bonnet, an' she died wid ' McKenna, 
 me man,' houldin' her up, an' the bhoys 
 howled whin they buried her.
 
 30 MULVANEY STOEIES. 
 
 " That night, a big wind blew, an' blew, 
 an' blew the tents flat. But it blcAv the 
 cholera away, an' niver another case there 
 was all the while Ave was waitin' — ten days 
 in qiiarintin'. Av you will belave me, the 
 thrack of the sickness in the camp was fur 
 all the worruld the thrack of a man walkin' 
 four times in a figur'-av-eight through the 
 tents. They say 'tis the Wandherin' Jew 
 takes the cholera wid him. I believe ut. 
 
 "An' that," said Mulvaney, illogically, "is 
 the cause why little Jhansi McKenna is iwhat 
 she is. She was brought up by the quarter- 
 master sarjint's wife whin McKenna died, 
 but she belongs to B Comp'ny ; an' this tale 
 I'm tellin' you — wid a proper appreciashin 
 av Jhansi McKenna — I've belted into ivry 
 recruity av the comp'ny as he was drafted. 
 Faith, 'twas me belted Corp'ril Slane into 
 askin' the gurl!" 
 "Not really?" 
 
 " Man, I did ! She's no beauty to look 
 at, but she's old Pummeloe's daughter, an' 
 'tis my juty to provide for her. Just before 
 Slane got his wan-eight a day, I sez to him: 
 'Slane,' sez I, 'to-morrow 'twill be insubor- 
 dinashin av me to chastise you; but, by the 
 sowl av ould Pummeloe, who is now in glory, 
 av you don't give me your worrud to ask 
 Jhansi McKenna at wanst, I'll peel the flesh 
 off yer bones wid a brass huk to-night. 'Tis 
 a dishgrace to B Comp'ny she's been single 
 so long!' sez I. Was I goin' to let a three-
 
 THE DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT. 31 
 
 year-onld preshume to discoorse wid me, my 
 will bein'set? No! Slane wint an' asked 
 her. He's a good bhoy is Slane. Wan av 
 these days he'll get into the com'ssariat an' 
 dhrive a boggy wid his — savin's. So I pro- 
 vided for ould Pummeloe's daughter; an' 
 now you go along an' dance agin wid her." 
 
 And I did. 
 
 I felt a respect for Miss Jhansi McKenna ; 
 and I went to her wedding later on. 
 
 Perhaps I will tell you about that one of 
 these days.
 
 THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE. 
 
 Hit a man an' help a woman, an' ye can't be far 
 wrong any ways. 
 
 Maxims of Private Mulvaney. 
 
 The Inexpressibles gave a ball. They bor- 
 rowed a seven-pounder from the Gunners, 
 and wreathed it with laurels, and made the 
 dancing-floor plate-glass, and provided a 
 supper, the like of which had never been 
 eaten before, and set two sentries at the door 
 of the room to hold the trays and programme 
 cards. My friend. Private Mulvaney, was 
 one of the sentries, because he was the tall- 
 est man in the regiment. When the dance 
 was ftiirly started the sentries were released, 
 and Private Mulvaney fled to curry favor 
 with the mess sergeant in charge of the sup- 
 per. Whether the mess sergeant gave or 
 Mulvaney took, I cannot say. All that I am 
 certain of is tliat, at supper time, I found 
 Mulvaney with Private Ortheris, two-thirds 
 of a ham, a loaf of bread, half a pate de foie 
 gras, and two magnums of champagne, sit- 
 ting on the roof of my carriage. As I came 
 up I heard him saying: 
 
 " Praise be a danst doesn't come as often 
 as ord'ly-room, or, by this an' that, Orth'ris, 
 tne son. I wud be the dishgrace av the rig'- 
 (32)
 
 THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE. 33 
 
 mint instid av the brightest jool in uts 
 crown." 
 
 ^^Hand the colonel's pet noosince," said 
 Ortheris, who w^as a Londoner. " But wot 
 makes you curse your rations? This 'ere 
 fizzy stufi''s good enough." 
 
 " Stuff, ye oncivilized pagin ! 'Tis cliam- 
 pagne we're dhrinkin' now. 'Tisn't that I 
 am set ag'in. 'Tis the quare stuft' wid the 
 little bits av black leather in it. I misdoubt 
 I will be distressin'ly sick wid it in the 
 mornin'. Fwhatisut?" 
 
 " Goose liver," I said, climbing on tlie top 
 of the carriage, for I knew that it was l^etter 
 to sit out with Mulvaney than to dance 
 many dances. 
 
 "Goose liver, is ut?" said Mulvaney. 
 " Faith, I'm thinkin' thim that makes it wud 
 do betther to cut up the colonel. He car- 
 ries a power av liver undher his right arrumi 
 whin the days are warm an' the nights chill. 
 He wud give thim tons an' tons av liver. 
 'Tis he sez so. ' I'm all liver to-day,' sez he : 
 an' wid that he ordhers me ten days C. B. 
 for as moild a dhrink as iver a good sodger 
 tuk betune his teeth." 
 
 " That was when 'e wanted for to wash 
 'isself in the fort ditch," Ortheris explained. 
 "Said there wa^s too much beer in the bar- 
 rack water-butts for a God-fearing man. 
 You was lucky in gittin' orf with wot you 
 did, Mulvaney!" 
 
 " You say so ? Now I'm pershuaded I 
 3
 
 34 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 was cruel hard trated, seein' fwhat I've done 
 for the likes av him in the days whin my 
 ■eyes were wider opin than they are now. 
 Man alive, for the colonel to whip me on the 
 peg in that way! Me that have saved the 
 repitation av a ten times better man than 
 him! 'Twas ne-farious, an' that manes a 
 power av evil!" 
 
 " Never mind the nefariousness," I said. 
 ^' Whose reputation did you save ?" 
 
 " More's the pity, 'twasn't my own, but I 
 tuk more trouble wid ut than av ut was. 
 'Twas just my way, messin' wid fwaht was 
 no business av mine. Hear now!" He set- 
 tled himself at ease on the top of the car- 
 riage. " I'll tell you all about ut. Av coorse 
 I will name no names, for there's wan that's 
 an orf 'cer's lady now, that was in ut, an' no 
 more will I name places, for a man is 
 thracked by a place." 
 
 " Eyah !" said Ortheris, lazily, " but this 
 is a mixed story wot's comin'." 
 
 " Wanst upon a time, as the childer-books 
 say, I was a recruity." 
 
 *' Was you, though ?" said Ortheris ; " now 
 that's extryordinary !" 
 
 " Orth'ris," said Mulvaney, " av you opin 
 thim lips av yours again, I will, savin' your 
 presince, sorr, take you by the slack av your 
 trousers an' heave you." 
 
 " I'm mum," said Ortheris. " Wot 'ap- 
 pened when you was a recruit} ?" 
 
 " I was a betther recruity than you iver
 
 THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE. 85 
 
 was or will be, but that's neither here non 
 there. Thin I became a man, an' the divil 
 of a man I was fifteen years ago. They 
 called me Buck Mulvaney in thim days, 
 an', begad, I tuk a woman's eye. I did 
 that! Ortheris, ye scrub, fwhat are ye 
 sniggerin' at? Do you misdoubt me?" 
 
 " Divil a doubt !" said Ortheris ; " but I've 
 'card summat like that before." 
 
 Mulvaney dismissed the impertinence 
 with a lofty wave of his hand and con- 
 tinued : 
 
 "An' the orf'cers av the rig'mint I was in 
 in thim days was orfcers — gran' men, wid 
 a manner on 'em, an' a way wid 'em such 
 as is not made these days — all but wan — 
 wan o' the capt'ns. A bad dhrill, a wake 
 voice, an' a limp leg — thim three things 
 are the signs av a bad man. You bear that 
 in 3^our hid, Orth'ris, me son. 
 
 "An' the colonel av the rig'mint had a 
 daughter — wan av thim lamb-like, bleatin', 
 pick - me-up - an'- carr_y-me -or -I'll - die gurls 
 such as was made for the nat'ral prey av men 
 like the capt'n who was iverlastin' payin' 
 coort to her, though the colonel he said time 
 an' over, ' Kape out av the brute's way, my 
 dear.' But he niver had the heart for to 
 send her away from the throuble, bein' as 
 he was a widower, an' she their wan child." 
 
 " Stop a minute, Mulvaney," said I ; " how 
 in the world did you come to know these 
 things ?"
 
 36 M UL VA NE Y STORIES. 
 
 " Kow did I come ?"' said Mulvaney, with 
 a scornful crrunt ; " bekase I'm turned durin' 
 the quane's pleasure to a lump av wood, 
 lookin' out straight forninst me, wid a — 
 a — candelabbrum in me hand, for you to 
 pick your cards out av, must I not see nor 
 feel ? Av coorse I do ! Up my back, an' in 
 my boots, an' in the short hair av the neck 
 — that's where I kape nie eyes whin I'm on 
 duty and the reg'larwans are fixed. Know! 
 Take me word for it, sorr, ivry thing an' a 
 grate dale more is known in a rig' mint; or 
 fwhat wud be the use av a mess sarjint, or 
 a sarjint's wife doin' wet nurse to the 
 major's baby? To reshume. He was a 
 bad dhrill, was this capt'n — a rotten bad 
 dhrill — an' whin first I ran me eye over 
 him, I sez to myself: ' Me militia bantam !' 
 I sez, ' me cock av a Gosport dunghill ' — 
 'twas from Portsmouth he came to us — 
 'there's combs to be cut,' sez I, 'an' by the 
 grace av God, 'tis Terence Mulvaney will 
 cut thini.' 
 
 "So he wint menowderin', an' minan- 
 derin', an' blandandhering roun' an' about 
 the colonel's daughter, an' she, poor inno- 
 cint, lookin' at him like a comm'ssariat 
 bullock looks at the comp'ny cook. He'd 
 a dhirty little scrub av a black mustache, 
 an' he twisted an' turned ivry wurrd he 
 used as av he found ut too sweet for to 
 spit out. Eyah! He was a tricky man an' 
 a liar by natur'. Some are born so. He was
 
 THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE. 37 
 
 wan. I knew he was over his belt in money 
 borrowed from natives; besides a lot av 
 other mathers which, in regard to your 
 presince, sorr, I will oblitherate. A little av 
 fwat I knew, the colonel knew, for he wud 
 have none av him, an' that, I'm thinkin', 
 by fwhat happened aftherAvards, the capt'n 
 knew. 
 
 " Wan day, bein' mcrtial idle, or they wud 
 never ha' thried ut, the rig'mint gave am- 
 shure theatricals — orfcers an' orf'cers' ladies. 
 You've seen the likes time an' agin, sorr, an' 
 poor fun 'tis for them that sit in the back 
 row an' stamp wid their boots for the honor 
 av the rig'mint. I Avas told ofi' for to shif 
 the scenes, haulin' up this an' draggin' 
 down that. Light work ut was, Avid lashins 
 av beer an' the gurl that dhressed the orf'- 
 cers' ladies . . . but she died in Aggra 
 twelve years gone, an' my tongue's gettin' 
 the better aA' me. They was actin' a play 
 thing called ' SAveethearts,' Avhich you may 
 ha' heard av, an' the colonel's daughter she 
 was a lady's-maid. The capt'n was a boy 
 called Broom — Spread Broom Avas his name 
 in the play. Thin I saw — ut come out in the 
 actin' — fwhat I niver saAv before, an' that 
 jvas that he Avas no gentleman. They was 
 too much together, thim tAvo, a-whispherin' 
 behind the scenes I shifted, an' some av 
 what they said I heard ; for I Avas death — 
 blue death an' ivy — on the comb-cuttin'. 
 He was iverlastin'ly oppressing her to fall in
 
 38 21 UL VANE Y S TORIES 
 
 wid some sneakin' schame av his, an' she 
 was thryin' to stand out ag'inst him, but 
 not as though she was set in her will. I 
 wonder now in thim days that my ears 
 did not grow a yard on me head wid list'- 
 nin'. But I looked straight forninst me, an' 
 hauled up this, an' dragged down that, such 
 as was my duty, an' the orPcers' ladies sez 
 one to another, thinkin' I was out av listen- 
 reach : ' Fwhat an obligin' young man is 
 this Corp'ril Mulvaney !' I was a corp'ril 
 then. I was rejuced aftherward, but, no 
 matther, I was a corp'ril wanst. 
 
 '' Well, this 'Sweethearts' ' business wint 
 on like most amshure theatricals, an' barrin' 
 fwat I suspicioned, 'twasn'ttill the dhress-re- 
 hearsal that I saw for certain that thim two — 
 he the blackguard, an' she no wiser than she 
 should ha' been — had put up an evasion." 
 
 "A what?" said I. 
 
 " E-vasion ! Fwat you lorruds an' ladies 
 call an elopement. E-vasion I calls it, be- 
 kaze, exceptin' whin 'tis right an' natural 
 an' proper 'tis wrong an' dhirty to steal a 
 man's wan child not knowin' her own mind. 
 There was a sarjint in the comm'ssariat who 
 set my face upon e-vasions. I'll tell you 
 about that — " 
 
 "Stick to the bloomin' captains, Mul- 
 vaney," said Ortheris ; " comm'ssariat sar- 
 jints is low." 
 
 Mulvaney accepted the emendation and 
 went on :
 
 THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE. 39 
 
 " Now, I knew that the colonel was no fool^ 
 any more than me, for I was hild the smart- 
 est 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 wud ha' 
 rolled out his fece wid the butt av me gun 
 before permittin' av him to steal the gurL 
 Saints knew av he wud ha' married her, an' 
 av he didn't she would be in great tormint,. 
 an' the divil av Avhatyou, sorr, call a 'scan- 
 dal.' But I niver sthruck, niver raised me 
 hand on me shuperior orf ^cer ; an' that was. 
 a merricle now I come to considher it." 
 
 " Mulvaney,the dawn's risin'," said Orthe- 
 ris, " an' we're no nearer 'ome than we was 
 at the beginnin'. Lend me your pouch. 
 Mine's all dust." 
 
 Mulvaney pitched his pouch across, and 
 he filled his pipe afresh, 
 
 " So the dhress-rehearsal came to an end^ 
 an', bekaze I was curious, I stayed behind 
 whin the scene-shiftin' was ended, an' I 
 shud ha' been in barricks, lyin' as flat as a 
 toad under a painted cottage thing. They 
 was talkin' in whispers, an' she was shiver- 
 in' an' gaspin' like a fresh-hukked fish. ' Are 
 you sure you've got the hang av the manew- 
 vers?' sez he, or wurrds to that effec', as the 
 coort-martial sez. 'Sure as death,' sez she, 
 *but I misdoubt 'tis cruel hard on my
 
 40 M UL VANEV STORIES. 
 
 father.' * Damn your father,' sez he, or any- 
 ways 'twas fwat he thought, ' the arrangement 
 is as clear as mud. Jungi will drive the car- 
 ri'ge afther all's over, an' you come to the 
 station, cool an' aisy, in time for the two- 
 o'clock thrain, where I will be wid your kit.' 
 ' Faith,' thinks I to myself, 'thin there's a 
 ayah in the business, tu !' 
 
 "A powerful bad thing is a ayah. Don't 
 you niver have any thruck wid wan. Thin 
 he began sootherin' her, an' all the orf'cers 
 an' orf'cers' ladies left, an' they put out the 
 lights. To explain the theory av the flight, as 
 they say at muskthry, you must understand 
 that afther this ' Sweethearts' * nonsinse was 
 ended there was another little bit av a play 
 called 'Couples' — some kind av couple or 
 another. The gurl was actin' in this, but not 
 the man. I suspicioned he'd go to the station 
 wid the gurl's kit at the end av the first piece. 
 'Twas the kit that flusthered me, for I knew for 
 a capt'n to go trapesing about the impire wid 
 the Lord knew what av a truso on his arrum 
 was nefarious, an' wud be worse than easin' 
 the flag, so far as the talk aftherward wint." 
 
 " ' Old on, Mulvaney. Wot's truso .?" said 
 Ortheris. 
 
 "You're an oncivilized man, me son. 
 Whin a gurl's married, all her kit an' 'cou- 
 tremonts are truso, which manes weddin'- 
 portion. An' 'tis the same whin she's run- 
 nin' away, even wid the biggest blackguard 
 on the arrmy list.
 
 THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE. 41 
 
 " So I made my plan av campaign. The 
 colonel's house was a good two miles away. 
 'Dennis,' sez I to me color-sarjint, ' av you 
 love me lend me your kyart, for me heart is 
 bruk an' me feet is sore wid trampin' to an' 
 from this foolishness at the Gafi' ' An' 
 Dennis lent ut, wid a rampin', stampin' red 
 stallion in the shafts. Whin they was all 
 settled down to their ' Sweethearts ' for the 
 first scene, which was a long wan, I slips out- 
 side an' into the kyart. Mother avHivin! 
 but I made that horse walk, an' we came 
 into the colonel's compound as the divil 
 wint through Athlone — in standin' leps. 
 There was no one there except the servints, 
 an' I wint round to the back an' found the 
 girl's ayah. 
 
 " ' Ye black brazen Jezebel,' sez I, ' sellin' 
 your masther's honor for five rupees — pack 
 up all the Miss Sahib's kit an' look sli[)py ! 
 Capt'n Sahib's order,' sez I; 'going to the 
 station we are,' I sez, an' wid that I laid me 
 finger to me nose an' looked the schamin' 
 sinner I was. 
 
 ''''■Bote acchy,' says she; so I knew she 
 was in the business, an' I piled up all the 
 sweet talk I'd iver learned in the bazaars on 
 to this she-bullock, an' prayed av her to put 
 all the quick she knew into the thing. While 
 she packed, I stud outside an' sweated, for I 
 was wanted for to shlf the second scene. I 
 tell you, a young gurl's e-vasion manes as 
 much baggage as a rig'mint on the line av
 
 42 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 march! 'Saints help Dennis's springs/ 
 thinks I, as I bundled the stuff into the 
 thrap, ' for I'll have no mercy !' 
 
 " ' I'm comin' too,' says the ayah. 
 
 "'No, you don't,' sez I, 'later — pechy! 
 You baito where you are. I'll pechy come 
 an' bring you sart, along with me, you ma- 
 raudin" — niver mind fwhat I called her. 
 
 " Thin I wint for the Gaff, an' by the spe- 
 cial ordher av Providence, for I was doin' a 
 good work you will ondersthand, Dennis's 
 springs hild toight. ' Now, whin the capt'n 
 goes for that kit,' thinks I, ' he'll be throu- 
 bled.' At the end av 'Sweethearts' off the 
 capt'n runs in his kyart to the colonel's 
 house, an' I sits down on the steps an' 
 laughs. Wanst an' again I slipped in to see 
 how the little piece was goin', an' whin ut 
 was near endin' I stepped out all among the 
 carri'ges an' sings out very softly, ' Jungi !' 
 Wid that a carri'ge began to move, an' I 
 waved to the dhriver. ' Hitherao !' sez I, an' 
 he hitheraoed till I judged he was at proper 
 distance, an' thin I tuk him, fair an' square 
 betune the eyes, all I knew for good or bad, 
 an' he dropped wid a guggle like the canteen 
 beer-engine whin ut's runnin' low. Thin I 
 ran to the kyart an' tuk out all the kit an' 
 piled it into the carri'ge, the sweat runnin' 
 down me face in dhrops. 'Go home,' sez I 
 to the sais; 'you'll find a man close here. 
 Very sick he is. Take him away, an' av you 
 iver say wan wurrd about fwhat you've dek-
 
 THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE. 43 
 
 hoed, I'll marrow you till your own wife 
 •won't snmjao who you are!' Thin I heard 
 the stampin' av feet at the ind av the play, 
 an' I ran in to let down the curtain. Whin 
 they all came out the gurl thried to hide her- 
 self behind wan av the pillars, an' sez ' Jungi' 
 in a voice that wudn't ha' scared a hare. I 
 run over to Jungi's carri'ge an' tuk up the 
 lousy old horse-blanket on the box, wrapped 
 my head an' the rest av me in ut, an' dhrove 
 up to where she was. 
 
 " ' Miss Sahib,' sez I ; ' goin' to the station. 
 Captain Sahib's order!' an' widout a sign 
 she jumped in all among her own kit. 
 
 " I laid to an' druv like steam to the 
 colonel's house before the colonel was there, 
 an' she screamed an' I thought she was 
 goin' off. Out comes the ayah, sayin' all 
 sorts av things about the capt'n havin' 
 come for the kit an' gone to the station. 
 
 " ' Take out the luggage, you divil,' sez I, 
 'or I'll murther you!' 
 
 " The lights av the thraps people comin' 
 from the Gaff was showin' acrost the parade- 
 ground, an' by this an' that, the way thim 
 two women worked at the bundles an' 
 thrunks was a caution ! I was dyin' to help, 
 but, seein' I didn't want to bo known, I sat 
 wid the blanket roun' me an' coughed an* 
 thanked the saints there was no moon that 
 night. 
 
 " Whin all was in the house again, I niver 
 asked for bukshish but druv tremenjus in the
 
 44 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 opp'site way from the other carri'ge an' put 
 out me lights. Presintly, I saw a naygur 
 man wallowin' in the road. I slipped down 
 before I got to him, for I suspicioned Provi- 
 dence was wid me all through that night. 
 'Twas Jungi, his nose smashed in flat, all 
 dumb sick as you please. Dennis's man 
 must have tilted him out av the thrap. 
 Whin he came to, 'Hutt!' sez I, but he 
 began to howl. 
 
 " ' You black lump av dirt,' I sez, ' is this 
 the way you dhrive your gharri f That 
 tikka has been owin' an' fereowin' all over 
 the bloomin' country this whole bloomin' 
 night, an' you as mut-walla as Davey's sow. 
 Get up, you hog!' sez I, louder, for I heard 
 the Avheels av a thrap in the dark ; ' get up ■ 
 an' light your lamps, or you'll be run into !' 
 This was on the road to the railway station. 
 
 " ' Fwat the divil's this ?' sez the capt'n's 
 voice in the dhark, an' 1 could judge he was 
 in a lather av rage. 
 
 "' Gharri dhriver here, dhrunk, sorr,' sez 
 I; 'I found his gharri sthrayin' about can- 
 tonmints, an' now I've found him.' 
 
 " ' Oh !' sez the capt'n ; ' fwhat's his name ?' 
 I stooped down an' pretinded to listen. 
 
 " ' He sez his name's Jungi, sorr,' sez I. 
 
 " ' Hould my harse,' sez the capt'n to his 
 man, an' wid that he gets down wid the 
 whip an' lays into Jungi, just mad wid 
 rage an' swearin' like the scut he was. 
 
 *' I thought, afther awhile, he wud icill the
 
 THE GOD FROM THE MACHINE. 45 
 
 man, so I sez, ' Stop, sir, or you'll nuirdher 
 him !' That dhrew all his fire on me, an' 
 he cursed me into blazes, an' out again. I 
 stud to attenshin an' saluted : ' Sorr,' sez I, 
 'av ivr}' man in this worruld had his rights, 
 I'm thinkin' that more than wan wud be 
 beaten to a shakin' jelly for this night's 
 work — that never came off at all, sorr, as 
 you see.' ' Now,' thinks I to myself, ' Ter- 
 ence Mulvane}', you've cut your own throat, 
 for he'll sthrike, an' you'll knock him down 
 for the good av his sowl an' your own iver- 
 lastin' dishgrace !' 
 
 " But the capt'n never said a single wurrd. 
 He choked where he stud, an' thin he wint 
 into his thrap widout sayin' good-night, an' 
 I wint back to barricks." 
 
 " And then ?" said Ortheris and I together. 
 
 " That was all," said Mulvaney ; " niver 
 another wurrd did I hear av the whole thing. 
 All I know was that there was no e-vasion, 
 an' that was fwhat I wanted. Now, I put 
 ut to you, sorr, is ten days' C B. a fit an' a 
 proper tratement for a man who has behaved 
 as me?" 
 
 "Well, any'ow," said Ortheris, " tweren't 
 this 'ere colonel's daughter, an' you was 
 blazin' copped when you tried to wash in the 
 fort ditch." 
 
 " That," said Mulvaney, finishing the 
 champagne, "is a shuparfluous an' imir»vt'- 
 nint observation."
 
 PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STORY. 
 
 And he told a tale. — Chronicles of Guatama Buddha. 
 
 Far from the haunts of company officers 
 who insist upon kit-inspections, far from 
 keen-nosed sergeants who sniff the pipe 
 stuffed into the bedding-roll, two miles from 
 the tumult of the barracks, lies the Trap. It 
 is an old well, shadowed by a twisted pi pal- 
 tree and fenced with high grass. Here, in 
 the years gone by, did Private Ortheris es- 
 tablish his depot and menagerie for such 
 possessions, living and dead, as could not 
 safely be introduced to the barrack-room. 
 Here were gathered Houdin pullets, and 
 fox-terriers of undoubted pedigree and more 
 than doubtful ownership, for Ortheris was 
 an inveterate poacher and pre-eminent 
 among a regiment of neat-handed dog- 
 stealers. 
 
 Never again will the long, lazv evenings 
 return wherein Ortheris, whistling softly, 
 nioved surgeon-wise among the captives of 
 his craft at the bottom of the well ; when 
 Learoyd sat in the niche, giving sage coun- 
 sel on the management of "tykes," and 
 Mulvaney, from the crook of the overhang- 
 ing pipal, waved his enormous boots in ben- 
 (46)
 
 PRIVA TE LEARO YD'S STOR Y. 47 
 
 ediction above our heads, delighting us with 
 tales of love and war, and strange experi- 
 ences of cities and men. 
 
 Ortberis— landed at last in the " little stuff 
 bird-shop" for which your soul longed; 
 Learoyd — back again in the smoky, stone- 
 ribbed north, amid the clang of the Bradford 
 looms ; Mulvaney — grizzled, tender, and 
 very wise Ulysses, sweltering on the earth- 
 work of a Central India line — judge if I 
 have forgotten old days in the Trap ! 
 
 Orth'ris as alius thinks he knaws more 
 than other folks, said she wasn't a real laady, 
 but nobbut a Hewrasian. I don't gainsay as 
 her culler was a bit doosky like. But she 
 was a laady. Why, she rode iv a carriage, 
 an' good 'osses, too, an' her 'air was that 
 oiled as you could see your faice in it, an' 
 she wore di'mond rings an' a goold cliain, 
 an' silk an' satin dresses as mun 'a' cost a 
 deal, for it isn't a cheap shop as keeps 
 enough o' one pattern to fit a figure like 
 hers. Her name was Mrs. De Sussa, an' t' 
 waay I coom to be acquainted wi' her was 
 along of our colonel's laady's dog Rip. 
 
 I've seen a vast o' dogs, but Rip was t' 
 prettiest picter of a cliver fox-tarrier 'at 
 iver I set eyes on. He could do owt you 
 like but speeak, an' t' colonel's lady set 
 more etore by him than if he had been a 
 Christian. She bed bairns of her awn, but 
 they was i' England, and Rip seemed to get
 
 48 MULVANEY STORIES: 
 
 all t' coodlin' and pettin' as belonged to a 
 bairn b}'' good right. 
 
 But Rip were a bit on a rover, an' bed 
 a habit o' breakin' out o' barricks like, and 
 trottin' round t' plaice as if he were t' can- 
 tonment magistrate cooni round inspectin'. 
 The colonel leathers him once or twice, but 
 Rip didn't care, an' kept on gooin' his 
 rounds, wi' his ta^iil a-waggin' as if he were 
 flag signalin' to t' world at large 'at he was 
 "gettin' on nicely, thank yo', and how's 
 yo'sen?" An' then t' colonel, as was noa 
 sort of a hand wi' a dog, tees him oop. A 
 real clipper of a dog, an' it's noa wonder yon 
 laady, ]\Irs. De Sussa, should tek a fancy tiv 
 him. Theer's one o' t' Ten Commandments 
 says yo' maun't cuvvet your neebor's ox nor 
 his jackass, but it doesn't say nowt about 
 his tarrier-dogs, an' happen thot's t' reason 
 why Mrs. De Sussa cuvveted Rip, thou' she 
 went to church reg'lar along wi' her hus- 
 band, who was so mich darker 'at if he 
 hedn't such a good coaat tiv his back yo' 
 might ha' called him a black man, and nut 
 tell a leenawther. They said he addled his 
 brass i' jute, an' he'd a rare lot on it. 
 
 Well, you seen, when they teed Rip up, t' 
 
 oor awd lad didn't enjoy very good 'elth. So 
 
 l' colonel's laady sends for me as 'ad a naame 
 
 for bein' knowledgeable about a dog, an' 
 
 axes what's ailin' wi' him. 
 
 " Why," says I, " he's getten t' mopes, an' 
 what he wants is his libbaty an' coompany
 
 FRIVA TE LEARO YD'S STO BY. 49 
 
 like t' rest on us; wal happen a rat or two 
 'ud liven him oop. It's low, mum," says I, 
 "is rats, but it's t' nature of a dog ; an' soa's 
 cuttin' round an' meetin' another dog or two 
 an' passin' t' time o' day, an' hevvin' a bit 
 of a turn-up w' him like a Christian." 
 
 So she saj^s her dog maunt niver fight an' 
 noa Christians iver fought. 
 
 "Then what's a soldier for?" says I; an' 
 I explains to her t' contrairy qualities of a 
 dog, 'at, when yo' coom to think on't, is one 
 o' t' curusest things as is. For they lam to 
 behave theirsens like gentlemen born, fit for 
 t' fost o' coompany — they tell me t' widdy 
 herself is fond of a good dog and knaws one 
 when she sees it as well as onnybody; tlun 
 on t' other hand a-tewin' round after cats an' 
 gettin' mixed oop i' all manners o' black- 
 guardly street rows, an' killin' rats, an' 
 fightin' like divils. 
 
 T' colonel's laady says: "AVell, Learoyd, 
 I doan't agree wi' you, but you're right in a 
 way o* speeakin', an' I should like yo' to tek 
 Rip out a-walkin' wi' you sometimes; but 
 yo' maunt let him fight, nor chase cats, nor 
 do nowt 'orrid :" an' them was her very 
 wo'ds, 
 
 Soa Rip an' me gooes out a-walkin' o' 
 evenin's, he bein' a dog as did credit tiv a 
 man, an' I catches a lot o' rats an' we hed a 
 bit of a match on in an awd dry swimmin'- 
 bath at back o' t' cantonments, an' it was 
 none so long afore he was as bright as a but- 
 4
 
 50 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 ton again. He had a way o' flyin' at them 
 big yaller pariah dogs as if he was a harrow 
 offiin a bow, an' though his weight were 
 nowt, he tuk 'em so suddint-like they rolled 
 over like skittles in a halley, an' when they 
 coot he stretched after 'em as if he were 
 rabbit-runnin'. Saame with cats when he 
 cud get t' cat agaate o' runnin'. 
 
 One evenin', him an' me was trespassin' 
 ovver a compound wall after one of them 
 mongooses 'at he'd started, an' we was busy 
 grubbin' round a prickle-bush, an' when we 
 looks up there was Mrs. De Sussa wi' a par- 
 asel ovver her shoulder, a-watchin' us. "Oh, 
 my!" she sings out; "there's that lovelee 
 dog ! Would he let me stroke him, Mister 
 Soldier?" 
 
 "Ay, he would, mum," sez I, "for he's 
 fond o' laady's coompany. Coom here, Rip, 
 an' speeak to this kind laady." An, Rip, 
 seein' 'at t' moongoose hed getten clean 
 awaay, cooms up like t' gentleman he was, 
 nivver a hauporth shy nor okkord. 
 
 "Oh, you beautiful — you prettee dog!" 
 she says, clippin' an' chantin' her speech in 
 a way them sooart has o' their awn ; " I 
 would like a dog like you. You are so ver- 
 ree lovelee — so awfullee prettee," an' all thot 
 sort o' talk, 'at a dog o' sense mebbe thinks 
 nowt on, tho' he bides it by reason o' his 
 breedin'. 
 
 An' then I meks him joomp ovver my 
 swagger-cane, an' shek hands, an' beg, an'
 
 PRTVA TE LEARO YD'S STOR Y. 51 
 
 lie dead, an' a lot o' them tricks as laadies 
 teeaches dogs, though I doan't haud with it 
 mysen, for it's makin' a fool o' a good dog 
 to do such like. 
 
 An' at lung length it cooms out 'at she'd 
 been thrawin' sheep's eyes, as t' savin' is, at 
 Rip for many a day. Yo' see, her childer 
 was grown up, an' she'd nowt mich to do, 
 an' were alius fond of a dog. Soa she axes 
 me if I'd tek somethin' to dhrink. An' we 
 goes into t' drawn- room wheer her 'usbancl 
 was a-settin'.. They meks a gurt fuss ovver 
 t' dog an' I has a bottle o' aale an' he gave 
 me a handful o' cigars. 
 
 Soa I coomed away, but t' awd lass sings 
 out: "Oh, Mister Soldier! please coom again 
 and bring that prettee dog." 
 
 I didn't let on to t' colonel's laady about 
 Mrs. De Sussa, and Rip, he says nowt naw- 
 ther ; an' I gooes again, an' ivry time there 
 was a good dhrink an' a handful o' good 
 smooaks. An' I telled t' awd lass a heeap 
 more about Rip than I'd ever heeared; how 
 he tuk t' fost prize at |Lunnon dog-show 
 and cost thotty-three pounds fower shillin' 
 from t' man as bred him ; 'at his own brother 
 was t' proputty o' t' Prince o' Wailes, an' 'at 
 he had a pedigree as long as a dook's. An' 
 she lapped it all oop an' were niver tired o' 
 admirin' him. But when t' awd lass took 
 to givin' me money an' I seed 'at she were 
 gettin' fair fond about t' dog, I began to 
 suspicion summat. Onnybody may give a
 
 62 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 soldier t' price of a pint in a friendly way 
 an' theer's no 'arm done, but when it cooms 
 to five rupees slipt into your hand, sly like, 
 why, it's what t' 'lectioneerin' fellows calls 
 bribery an' corruption. S])ecially when Mrs. 
 De Sussa threwed hints how t' cold weather 
 would soon be ovver an' she was goin' to 
 Munsooree Pahar, an' we was goin' to Rawal- 
 pindi, an' she would never see Rip any more 
 onless somebody she knowed on would be 
 kind tiv hei\ 
 
 Soa I tells ]\rulvaney an' Ortheris all t' 
 taale thro', beginnin' to end. 
 
 " 'Tis larceny that wicked ould lady 
 manes,'' says t' Irishman, " 'tis felony she 
 is sejuicin' ye into, me friend Learoyd, but 
 I'll purtect your innocince. I'll save ye 
 from the wicked wiles av that wealthy ould 
 woman, an' I'll go wid you this evenin' an' 
 spake to her the wurrds av truth an' hon- 
 esty. But Jock," says he, waggin' his heead, 
 "'twas not like ye to kape all that good 
 dhrink an' thim fine cigars to yerself, while 
 Ortii'ris here an' me have been prowlin' 
 round wid throats as dry as lime-kilns, 
 an' nothin' to smoke but canteen plug. 
 'Twas a dhirty thrick to play on a comrade, 
 for why should you, Learoyd, be balancin' 
 yourself on the butt av a satin chair, as 
 if Terence Mulvaney was no', the aquil av 
 anybody who thrades in jute!" 
 
 " Let alone me," sticks in Orth'ris ; " but 
 that's like life, Them wot's really fitted to
 
 PRIVATE LEAEOYD'S STORY. 53 
 
 decorate society get no show, while a blun- 
 derin' Yorkshireman like you — " 
 
 " Nay," says I, " It's none o' t' blunderin' 
 Yorkshireman she wants, it's Rip. He's t' 
 gentleman this journey." 
 
 Soa t' next day, Mulvaney an' Rip an' me 
 goes to Mrs. De Sussa's, an' t' Irishman bein' 
 a strainger she wor a bit shy at fost. But 
 you've heeard Mulvaney talk, an' yo' may 
 believe as he fairly bewitched t' awd lass 
 wal she let out 'at she wanted to tek Rip 
 away wi' her to Munsooree Pahar. Then 
 Mulvaney changes his tune an' axes her 
 solemn-like if she'd thought o' t' conse- 
 quences o' gettin' two poor but honest sol- 
 diers sent t' Andamning Islands. Mrs. De 
 Sussa began to cry, so Mulvaney turns round 
 oppen t' other tack and smooths her down, 
 allowin' 'at Rip ud be a vast better ofiin t' 
 hills than down 1' Bengal, an' 'twas a pity 
 he shouldn't go wheer he was so well be- 
 liked. And soa he went on, backin' an' 
 fillin' an' workin' up t' awd lass wal she felt 
 as if her life warn't worth nowt if she didn't 
 hev t' dog. 
 
 Then all of a suddint he says: "But ye 
 shall have him, marm, for I've a feelin' 
 heart, not like this cowld-blooded Yorkshire- 
 man ; but 'twill cost ye not a penny less than 
 three hundher rupees." 
 
 "Don't you's believe him, mum," says I; 
 " t' colonel's laady wouldn't tek five hundred 
 for him."
 
 54 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 "Who said she would?" says Mulvaney; 
 " it's not buyin' him I mane, but for the sake 
 o' this kind, good laady, I'll do what I never 
 dreamt to do in my lile. I'll stale him !" 
 
 "Don't say steal," says Mrs. De Sussa; 
 "he shall have the happiest home. Dogs 
 often get lost, you know, and then they 
 stray, an' he likes me, and I like him as I 
 niver liked a dog yet, an' I must hev him. 
 If I got him at t' last minute I could carry 
 him off to Munsooree Pahar and nobody 
 would niver knaw." 
 
 Now an' again Mulvaney looked acrost at 
 me, an' though I could mak nowt o' what 
 he was after, I concluded to take his leead. 
 
 " Well, mum," I says, " I never thowt to 
 coom down to dog-stealin', but if my com- 
 rade sees how it could be done to oblige a 
 laady like yo'sen, I'm nutt' man to hod back, 
 tho' it's a bad business, I'm thinkin', an' 
 three hundred rupees is a poor set-oflF again 
 t' chance of them Damning Islands as Mul- 
 vaney talks on." 
 
 " I'll mek it three fifty," says Mrs. De 
 Sussa; " only let me hev t' dog !" 
 
 So we let her persuade us, an' she teks 
 Rip's measure theer an' then, an' sent to 
 Hamilton's to order a silver collar again t' 
 time when he was to be her awn, which was 
 to be t' day she set off for Monsooree Pahar. 
 
 "Sitha, Mulvaney," says I, when we was 
 outside, " you're niver goin' to let her hev 
 Rip !"
 
 PRI VA TE LEARO YD'S S TOE V. 5 5- 
 
 "An' would ye disappoint a poor ould 
 woman?" says he ; " she sliall liave a Rip.'' 
 
 " An' wheer's he to come througli ?" says I. 
 
 '* Learoyd, me man," he sings out, " you're- 
 a pretty man av your inches an' a good com- 
 rade, but your head is made av duff. Isn't, 
 our friend Orth'ris a taxidermist, an' a rale 
 artist Avid his nimble white fingers ! An'' 
 what's a taxidermist but a man who can 
 thrate skins? Do ye mind the white dog- 
 that belongs to the canteen sarjint, bad cess 
 to him — he that's lost half his time an' snarl- 
 in' the rest? He shall be lost for good now ; 
 an' do ye mind that he's the very spit in 
 shape an' size av the colonel's, barrin' that 
 his tail is an inch too long, an' he has none 
 av the color that divarsifies the rale Rip, an* 
 his timper is that av his masther an' worse. 
 But fwhat is an inch on a dog's tail? An' 
 fwhat to a professional like Orth'ris is a few 
 ring-straked shpots av black, brown, an* 
 white? Nothin' at all, at all." 
 
 Then we meets Orth'ris, an' that little man, 
 bein' sharp as a needle, seed his way 
 through t' business in a minute. An' he 
 went to work a-practicin' 'air-dyes the very 
 next day, beginnin' on some white rabbits 
 he had, an' then he drored all Rip's markin's 
 on t' back of a white commissariat bullock, 
 so as to get his 'and in an' be sure of his 
 colors ; shadin' off brown into black as na- 
 teral as life. If Rip had a fault it was too 
 mich markin', but it vv^as straingely reg'lar^
 
 56 MULVANEY STOEIEf?. 
 
 an' Orth'ris settled himself to make a fost- 
 rate job on it when he got haud o' t' canteen 
 sarjint's dog. Theer niver was sich a dog as 
 thot for bad temper, an' it did nut get no 
 better when his tail hed to be fettled an' inch 
 an' a half shorter. But they may talk o' theer 
 Royal Academies as they like, I niver seed a 
 bit o' animal paintin' to beat t' copy as 
 Orth'ris made of Rip's marks, wal t' picter 
 itself was snarlin' all t' time an' tryin' to get 
 at Rip standin' theer to be copied as good as 
 goold 
 
 Orth'ris alius hed as mich conceit on him- 
 sen as would lift a balloon, an' he wor so 
 pleeased wi' his sham Rip he wor for tek- 
 kin' him to Mrs. De Sussa before she went 
 away. But Mulvaney an' me stopped thot, 
 knowin' Orth'ris's work, though niver so 
 cliver, was nobbut skin-deep. An' at last 
 Mrs. De Sussa fixed t' day for startin' to 
 Munsooree Pahar. We was to tek Rip to t' 
 staj^siiun i' a basket an' hand him ovver just 
 when they was ready to start, an' then she'd 
 give us t' brass — as was agreed upon. 
 
 An' m\'- wo'd! It were high time she were 
 off, for them 'air-dyes on t' cur's back took a 
 vast of paintin' to keep t' reet culler, tho' 
 Orth'ris spent a matter of seven rupees six 
 annas i' t' best drooggist shops i' Calcutta. 
 
 An' t' canteen sarjint was lookin' for 'is 
 dog everywheer ; an', wi' bein' tied up, t' 
 beast's timper got waur nor ever. 
 
 It wor i' t' evenin' when t' train started
 
 PRIVATE LEAROYD'S STOiiY. 57 
 
 thro' Howrah, an' we 'elped Mrs. De Sussa 
 wi' about sixty boxes, an' then we gave 
 her t' basket. Orth'ris, for pride av his 
 work, axed us to let him coom along wi' us, 
 an' he couldn't help liftin' t' lid an' showin' 
 t' cur as he lay coiled oop. 
 
 "Oh!" says t' awd lass; "the beautee! 
 How sweet he looks !" An' just then t' 
 beauty snarled an' showed his teeth, so Mul- 
 vaney shuts down t' lid and says: " Ye'll be 
 careful, marm, whin ye tek him out. He's 
 disaccustomed to traveling by t' railway, an' 
 he'll be sure to want his rale mistress an' his 
 friend Learoyd, so ye'll make allowance for 
 his feehngs at fost." 
 
 She would do all thot an' more for the 
 dear, good Rip, an' she would nut oppen t' 
 basket till they were miles away, for fear 
 anybody should recognize him, an' we were 
 real good an' kind sofdier-men, we were, an' 
 she bonds me a bundle o' notes, an' then 
 cooms up a few of her relations an' friends 
 to say good-bye — not more than seventy-five 
 there wasn't — an' we cuts away. 
 
 What coom t' three hundred an' fifty ru- 
 pees? Thot's what I can scarcelins tell you, 
 but we melted it. It was share an' share 
 alike, for Mulvaney said : " If Learoyd got 
 hold of Mrs. De Sussa first, sure 'twas I that 
 remimbered the sarjint's dog just in the nick 
 av time, an' Orth'ris was the artist av janius 
 that made a work av art out av that ugly 
 piece av ill-nature. Yet, by way av a thank-
 
 58 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 offerin' that I was not led into felony by that 
 wicked ould woman, I'll send a thrifle to 
 Father Victor for the poor people he's always 
 beggin' for." 
 
 But me an' Orth'ris, he bein' cockney an' 
 I bein' pretty far north, did nut see it in t' 
 saame way. We'd getten t' brass, an' we 
 meaned to keep it. An' soa we did — for a 
 short time. 
 
 Noa, noa, we niver heeard a wod more o' 
 t' awd lass. Our rig'mint went to Pindi, an' 
 t' canteen sarjint he got himself another tyke 
 insteead o' t' one 'at got lost so reg'lar, an' 
 was lost for good at last.
 
 THE MADNESS OF PRIVATE 
 ORTHERIS. 
 
 Oh ! Where would I be when my froat was dry? 
 Oh ! Where would I be when the bullets fly? 
 Oh 1 Where would I be when I come to die ? 
 
 Why, 
 Somewheres anigh my chum. 
 
 If 'e's liquor 'e'U give me some, 
 
 If I'm dyin' 'e'U 'old my 'ead, 
 
 An' 'e'U write 'em 'Ome when I'm dead. — 
 
 Gawd send us a trusty chum ! 
 
 Barrack Room Ballad, 
 
 My friends Mulvaney and Ortheris had 
 gone on a shooting expedition for one day. 
 Learoyd was still in hospital, recovering 
 from fever picked up in Burma. They sent 
 me an invitation to join them, and were gen- 
 uinely pained when I brought beer — almost 
 enough beer to satisfy two privates of the 
 line — and me. 
 
 '"Twasn't for that we bid you welkim, 
 sorr," said Mulvaney, sulkily. " 'Twas for 
 the pleasure av your comp'ny." 
 
 Ortheris came to the rescue with : " Well, 
 'e won't be none the worse for bringin' liquor 
 with 'm. We ain't a file o' dooks. We're 
 bloomin' Tommies, ye cantankris Hirish- 
 man ; an' 'ere's your very good 'ealth !" 
 
 (59)
 
 60 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 We shot all the forenoon, and killed two 
 pariah-dogs, four green parrots, sitting, one 
 kite by the burning-ghaut, one snake flying, 
 one mud-turtle, and eight crows. Game was 
 plentiful. Then we sat down to tiffin — 
 " bull-mate an' bran-bread," Mulvaney called 
 it — by the side of the river, and took pot 
 shots at the crocodiles in the intervals of 
 cutting up the food with our only pocket- 
 knife. Then we drank up all the beer, and 
 threw the bottles into the water and fired at 
 them. After that, we eased belts and 
 stretched ourselves on the warm sand and 
 smoked. We were too lazy to continue 
 shooting. 
 
 Ortheris heaved a big sigh as he lay on his 
 stomach with his head between his fists. 
 Then he swore quietly into the blue sky. 
 
 "Fwhat's that for?" said Mulvaney. 
 " Have ye not drunk enough ?" 
 
 " Tott'nim Court Road, an' a gal I fancied 
 there. Wot's the good of sodgerin' ?" 
 
 "Orth'ris, me son," said Mulvaney, has- 
 tily, " 'tis more than likely you've got throu- 
 ble in your inside with the beer. I feel that 
 way mesilf whin my liver gets rusty." 
 
 Ortheris went on slowly, not heeding the 
 interruption: 
 
 "I'm a Tommy— a bloomin', eight-anna, 
 dog-stealin' Tommy, with a number instead 
 o' a decent name. Wot's the good o' me ? If 
 I 'ad a stayed at 'ome, I might a' married 
 that gal an' kep' a little shorp in the 'Am-
 
 THE MADNESS OF PRIVATE OETHERIS. 61 
 
 mersmith Igh — ' S. Orth'ris, Prac-ti-cal Taxi- 
 der-mist.' \Mth a stuff' fox, like they 'as 
 in the Haylesbury Dairies, in the winder, an' 
 a little case of blue an' yaller glass heyes, 
 an' a little wife to call 'shorp!' 'shorp!' 
 when the door bell rung. As it his, I'm on'y 
 a Tommy — a bloomin', Gawdforsaken, beer- 
 swillin' Tommy. ' Rest on your harms — 
 'versed. Stan' at — hease.' Shun. 'Verse — 
 harms. Right an' lef tarrn. Slow — march. 
 'Alt — front. Rest on your harms — 'versed. 
 With blank cartridge — load.' An' that's the 
 end o' me." He was quoting fragments from 
 Funeral Parties' Orders. 
 
 "Stop ut!" shouted Mulvaney. "Whin 
 you've fired into nothin' as often as me, over 
 a better man than 3'oursilf, you will not 
 make a mock av thim orders. 'Tis worse 
 than whistlin' the ' Dead March ' in barricks. 
 An' you full as a tick, an' the sun cool, an' 
 all an' all! I take shame for you. You're 
 no better than a pagin — you an' your firin' 
 parties an' your glass eyes. Won't you stop 
 ut, sorr?" 
 
 What could I do? Could I tell Ortheris 
 anything that he did not know of the pleas- 
 ures of his life? I was not a chaplain nor 
 a subaltern, and Ortheris had a right to speak 
 as he thought fit. 
 
 " Let him run, Mulvaney," I said. " It's 
 the beer." 
 
 "No! 'Tisn't the beer," said Mulvaney. 
 " I know fwhat's comin'. He's tuk this way
 
 62 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 now an' ag'in, an' it's bad — it's bad — for I'm 
 fond av the bhoy." 
 
 Indeed, Mulvany seemed needlessly anx- 
 ious; but I knew that he looked after Orth'- 
 ris in a fatherly way. 
 
 " Let me talk, let me talk," said Ortheris, 
 dreamily. " D' you stop your parrit scream- 
 in' of a 'ot day, when the cage is a-cookin' 
 'is pore little pink toes orf, Mulvaney?" 
 
 " Pink toes ! D'ye mane to say you've 
 pink toes under your bullswools, ye blan- 
 danderin'" — Mulvaney gathered himself to- 
 gether for a terrific denunciation — " school- 
 misthress ! Pink toes ! How m uch Bass wid 
 the label did that ravin' child dhrink?" 
 
 " 'Tain't Bass," said Ortheris. '^ It's a bit- 
 terer beer nor that. It's 'ome sickness !" 
 
 "Hark to him! An' he's goin' home 
 in the ' Sherapis ' in the inside av four 
 months !" 
 
 "I don't care. It's all one to me. 'Ow d'you 
 know I ain't 'fraid o' dyin' 'fore I gets my 
 papers?" He recommenced, in a sing-song 
 voice, the Funeral Orders. 
 
 I had never seen this side of Ortheris's 
 character before, but evidently Mulvaney 
 had, and attached serious importance to it. 
 While Ortheris babbled, with his head on 
 his arms, ^lulvaney whispered to me : 
 
 " He's always tuk this way whin he's been 
 checked overmuch by the childher they 
 make sarjints nowadays. That an' havin' 
 nothin'to do. I can't make ut out any ways."
 
 THE MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS. 63 
 
 " Well, what does it matter ? Let him 
 talk himself through." 
 
 Ortheris began singing a parody of " The 
 Ramrod Corps," full of cheerful allusions to 
 battle, murder, and sudden death. He 
 looked out across the river as he sung, and 
 his face was quite strange to me. Mulvaney 
 caught me by the elbow to insure attention. 
 
 "Matther? It matthers everything ! 'Tis 
 some sort av fit that's on him. I've seen ut. 
 'T will hould him all this night, an' in the 
 middle av it he'll get out av his cot an' go 
 rakin' in the rack for his 'coutrements. Thin 
 he'll come over to me an' say : ' I'm goin' to 
 Bombay. Answer for me in themornin'.' Thin 
 me an' him Avill fight as we've done before — 
 him to go an' me to hould him — an' so we'll 
 both come on the books for disturbin' in 
 barricks. I've belted him, an' I've brukhis 
 head, an' I've talked to him, but 'tis no man- 
 ner av use whin the fit's on him. He's as 
 good a bhoy as ever stepped whin his mind's 
 clear. I know fwhat's comin', though, this 
 night in barricks. Lord send he doesn't 
 loose off whin I rise for to knock him down. 
 'Tis that that's in me mind day an' night." 
 
 This put the case in a much less pleasant 
 light, and fully accounted for Mulvaney's 
 anxiety. He seemed to be trying to coax 
 Ortheris out of the "fit;" for he shouted 
 down the bank where the boy was lying: 
 
 " Listen, now, you wid the ' pore pink toes ' 
 an' the glass eyes ! Did you shwim the Irri-
 
 64 MUL VA XEY STORIES. 
 
 waddy at night, behin' me, as a bhoy shud; 
 or were you hidin' under a bed, as you was 
 at Ahmed Kheyl?" 
 
 This was at once a gross insult and a direct 
 lie, and Mulvaney meant it to bring on a 
 fight. But Ortheris seemed shut up in some 
 sort of trance. He answered slowly, with- 
 out a sign of irritation, in the same cadenced 
 voice as he had used for his firing-party or- 
 ders: 
 
 " Hi swum the Irriwaddy in the night, as 
 you know, for to take the town Lungtung- 
 pen, nakid an' without fear. Hand where I 
 was at Ahmed Kheyl you know, and four 
 bloomin' Pathans know too. But that was 
 summat to do, an' I didn't think o' dyin'. 
 Now I'm sick to go 'ome — go 'ome — go 'ome! 
 No, I ain't mammy sick, because my uncle 
 brung me up, but I'm sick for London 
 again; sick for the sounds of 'er, an' the 
 Bights of 'er, an' the stinks of 'er; orange- 
 peel an' hasphalt an' gas comin' in over 
 Vaux'all Bridge. Sick for the rail goin' 
 down to Box '111, with your gal on your 
 knee an' a new clay pipe in your face. That, 
 an' the Stran' lights where you knows 
 ev'ry one, an' the copper that takes you up 
 is a old friend that tuk you up before, when 
 you was a little smitchy boy lyin' loose 
 twen the Temple an' the Dark Harches. 
 No bloomin' guard-mountin', no bloomin' 
 rotten-stone, nor khaki, an' yourself your 
 own master with a gal to take an' see the
 
 THE 31ADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIf!. 65 
 
 Humaners practicin' a-hookin' dead corpses 
 out o' the Serpentine o' Sundays. An' I lef 
 all that for to serve the widder beyond the 
 seas where there ain't no women an' there 
 ain't no liquor worth 'avin', an' there ain't 
 nothin' to see, nor do, nor say, nor feel, nor 
 think. Lord love you, Stanley Orth'ris, but 
 you're a bigger bloomin' fool than the rest 
 o' the rig'mint an' Mulvaney wired to- 
 gether! There's the widder sittin' at 'on>e 
 with a gold crown on 'er 'ead ; an' 'ere Hi, 
 Stanley Orth'ris, the widdier's propert}-, a 
 rottin' FOOL !" 
 
 His voice rose at the end of the sentence, 
 and he wound up with a six-shot Anglo-ver- 
 nacular oath. Mulvaney said nothing, but 
 looked at me as if he expected that I could 
 bring peace to poor Ortheris's troubled 
 brain. 
 
 I remembered once at Rawal Pindi having 
 seen a man, nearly mad witli drink, sobered 
 by being made fool of. Some regiments 
 may know what I mean. I hoped that we 
 might shake off Ortheris in the same way, 
 though he was perfectly sober; so I said : 
 
 "What's the use of grousing there, and 
 speaking against the widow?" 
 
 "I didn't!*' said Ortheris. "S'elp me 
 Gawd, I never said a word agin 'er, an' I 
 wouldn't — not if I was to desert this min- 
 ute !" 
 
 Here was my opening. " Well, you meant 
 to, anyhow. What's the use of cracking on 
 5
 
 66 MUL VANE V STORIES. 
 
 for nothing? Would you slip it now if you 
 got the chance?" 
 
 " On'y try me!" said Ortheris, jumping to 
 his feet as if he had been stung. 
 
 iMulvaney jumped too. "Fwhatare you 
 goin' to do ?" said he. 
 
 " Help Ortheris down to Bombay or Kara- 
 chi, v/hichever he likes. You can report that 
 he separated from you before tiffin, and left 
 his gun on the bank here !" 
 
 "I'm to report that— am I?" said Mul- 
 vane}^, slowly. "Very well.' If Orth'ris 
 manes to desert now, an' will desert now, 
 an' you, sorr, who have been a friend to me 
 an' to him, will help him to ut, I, Terence 
 Mulvaney, on my oath, which I've never 
 bruk yet, will report as you say. But" — 
 here he stepped up to Ortheris, and shook 
 the stock of the fowling-piece in his face — 
 *'your fistes help you, Stanley Orth'ris, if 
 iver I come across you agin !" 
 
 " I don't care !" said Ortheris. " I'm sick 
 o' this dorg's life. Give me a chanst. Don't 
 play with me. Le' me go !" 
 
 "Strip," said I, "and change with me, and 
 then I'll tell you what to do." 
 
 I hoped that the absurdity of this would 
 check Ortheris, but he had kicked off his 
 ammunition-boots and got rid of his tunic 
 almost before I had loosed my shirt-collar. 
 Mulvaney gripped me by the arm : 
 
 " The fit's on him ; the fit's workin' on 
 him still. By my honor an' sowl, we shall
 
 TEE MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS. 67 
 
 be accessiry to a desartionyet; only twinty- 
 eight days, as you say, sorr, or fifty-six, but 
 think o' the shame — the bhick shame to him 
 an' me I" I had never seen Mulvaney so 
 excited. 
 
 But Ortheris was quite calm, and as soon 
 as he had exchanged clothes with me, and I 
 stood up a private of the line, he said 
 shortly: "Now! Come on. What nex'? 
 D'ye mean fair? What must I do to get out 
 o' this 'ere hell?" 
 
 I told him that if he would wait for two or 
 three hours near the river I would ride into 
 the station and come back with one hun^ 
 dred rupees. He would, with that money in 
 his pocket, walk to the nearest side-station 
 on the line, about five miles away, and 
 would there take a first-class ticket for Kara- 
 chi. Knowing that he had no money on 
 him when he went out shooting, his regi- 
 ment would not immediately wire to the 
 sea-ports, but would hunt for him in the 
 native villages near the river. Further, no 
 one would think of seeking a deserter in a 
 first-class carriage. At Karachi he was to 
 buy white clothes and ship, if he could, on a 
 cargo-steamer. 
 
 Here he broke in. If I helped him to 
 Karachi he would arrange all the rest. Then 
 I ordered him to wait where he was until it 
 was dark enough for me to ride into the sta- 
 tion without my dress being noticed. Now 
 God in His wisdom has made the heart of a
 
 G 8 M UL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 British soldier, who is very often an nn- 
 licked ruffian, as soft as the heart of a little 
 child, in order that he may believe in and 
 follow his officers into tight and nasty 
 places. He does not so readily come to be- 
 lieve in a "civilian," but, when he does, he 
 believes implicitly and like a dog. I had 
 had the honor of the friendship of Private 
 Ortheris, at intervals, for more than three 
 years, and we had dealt with each other aa 
 man by man. Consequently, he considered 
 that all my words were true, and not spoken 
 lightly. 
 
 Mulvaney and I left him in the high grass 
 near the river bank, and went away, still 
 keeping to the high grass, toward my horse. 
 The shirt scratched me horribly. 
 
 We waited nearly two hours for the dusk 
 to fall and allow me to ride off. We spoke 
 of Ortheris in whispers, and strained our ears 
 to catch any sound from the spot where we 
 had left him. But we heard nothing except 
 the wind in the plume-grass, 
 
 " I've bruk his head," said Mulvaney, 
 earnestly, " time an' agin. I've nearly kilt 
 him wid the belt, an' yet I can't knock thim 
 fits out ov his soft head. No! An' he's not 
 soft, for he's reasonable an' likely by natur'. 
 Fwhat is ut? Is ut his breedin', which is 
 nothin', or his edukashin, which he niver 
 got? You thnt think ye know things, an- 
 swer me that." 
 
 But I found no answer. I was wondering
 
 TFIE MADNESS OF PRIVATE ORTHERIS. 69 
 
 how lon.t; Ortheris, on the bank of the river, 
 woukl hold out, and whether I should be 
 forced to help him to desert, as I had given 
 my word. 
 
 Just as the dusk shut down and, with a 
 very heavy heart. I was beginning to saddle 
 up my horse, we heard wikl shouts from the 
 rivrr. 
 
 The devils had departed from Private 
 Stanley Ortheris, No. 22639, B Company. 
 The loneliness, the dusk, and the waiting 
 had driven them out as I had hoped. We 
 set off at the double and found him plung- 
 ing about wildly through the grass, with his 
 coat oft' — my coat off", I mean. He was call- 
 ing for us like a madman. 
 
 When we reached him he was dripping 
 with perspiration and trembling like a star- 
 tled horse. We had great difficulty in sooth- 
 ing him. He complained that he was in 
 civilian kit, and wanted to tear my clothes 
 off his body. I ordered him to strip, and 
 we made a second exchange as quickly as 
 possible. 
 
 The rasp of his own " grayback " shirt and 
 the squeak of his boots seemed to bring him 
 to himself. He put his hands before his 
 eyes and said : 
 
 " Wot was it? I 'ain't mad, I ain't sun- 
 strook, an' I've bin an' gone an' said, an' bin 
 an' gone an' done. . . Wot 'ave I bin an' 
 done?" 
 
 " Fwhat have you done ?" said Mulvaney.
 
 70 MULVANEY STORII^. 
 
 " You've dishgraced yourself— though that's 
 no matter. You've dishgraced B Comp'ny, 
 an' worst av all, you've dishgraced me. Me 
 that taught you how for to walk abroad like 
 a man — whin you was a dhirt}' little, fish- 
 backed little, whimperin' little recruity. As 
 you are now, Stanley Orth'ris !" 
 
 Ortheris said nothing for awhile. Then he 
 unslung his belt, heavy with the badges of 
 half a dozen regiments that his own had lain 
 with, and handed it over to Mulvaney. 
 
 " I'm too little for to mill you, Mulvaney," 
 said he, " an' j^ou've strook me before ; but 
 you can take an' cut me in two with this 'ere 
 if you like." 
 
 Mulvaney turned to me. 
 
 " Lave me talk to him, sorr," said Mul- 
 vane}'. 
 
 I left, and on my way home thought a 
 good deal over Ortheris in particular, and 
 my friend, Private Thomas Atkins, whom I 
 love, in general. 
 
 But I could not come to any conclusion 
 of any kind whatever.
 
 THE SOLID MULDOON. 
 
 Did you see John Malone, wid hissliinin', brand-new 
 
 hat? 
 Did ye see how he walked like a grand aristocrat? 
 There was flags an' banners wavin' high, an' dhress 
 
 and shtyle were shown, 
 But tlie best av all the company was ^[isther John 
 
 Malone. 
 
 John MaJxme. 
 
 This befell in the old days, and, as my 
 friend Private Mulvaney wa:? specially care- 
 ful to make clear, the Unregenerate. 
 
 There had been a royal dog-fight in the 
 ravine at the l^ack of the rifle-butts between 
 Learoyd's Jock and Ortheris's Blue Rot — 
 both mongrel Rampur hounds, chiefly ribs 
 and teeth. It lasted for twenty happy, howl- 
 ing minutes, and then Blue Rot collapsed 
 and Ortheris paid Learoyd three rupees, and 
 we were all very thirsty. A dog-fight is a 
 most heating entertainment, quite apart 
 from the shouting, because Rampurs fight 
 over a couple of acres of ground. Later, 
 when the sound of belt-badges clinking 
 against the necks of beer-bottles had died 
 away, conversation drifted from dog to man 
 fights of all kinds. Humans resemble red- 
 deer in some respects. Any talk of fighting 
 seems to wake up a sort of imp in their 
 
 (71)
 
 72 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 breasts, and they bell one to the other, ex- 
 actly like challenging bucks. This is notice- 
 able even in men who consider themselves 
 superior to privates in the line; it shows the 
 refining influence of civilization and the 
 march of progress. 
 
 Tale provoked tale, and each tale more 
 beer. Even dreamy Learoyd's eyes began 
 to brighten, and he unburdened himself of 
 a long history in which a trip to Malham 
 Cove, a girl at Pateley Brigg, a ganger, him- 
 self and a pair of clogs were mixed in drawl- 
 ing tangle. 
 
 " An' so Ah coot's yead oppen from t' 
 chin to t' hair an' he was abed for t' matter 
 o' a month," concluded Learoyd, pensively. 
 
 Mulvaney came out of a reverie — he was 
 lying down — and flourished his heels in the 
 air. "You're a man, Learoyd," said he, 
 critically, " but you've only fought wid men, 
 an' that's an ivry-day expayrience; but I've 
 stud up to a ghost, an' that was not an ivry- 
 day expayrience." 
 
 "No?" said Ortheris, throwing a cork at 
 him. " You git up an' address the 'ouse — 
 you an' yer expayriences. Is it a bigger one 
 nor usual ?" 
 
 " 'Twas the livin' trut'!" answered Mulva- 
 ney, stretching out a huge arm and catching 
 Ortheris by the collar. " Now where are 
 ye, me son? Will ye take the wurrud av 
 the Lorrd out av my mout another time?" 
 He shook him to emphasize the question.
 
 TEE SOLID MULBOON. TB 
 
 " No, somethin' else, though," said Orthe- 
 ris, making a dash at Mulvaney's pipe, cap- 
 turing it, and holding it at arm's-length ; I'll 
 chuck it acrost the ditch if vou don't let me 
 go!"^ 
 
 " You maraudin' hathen ! 'Tis the only 
 cutty I iver loved. Handle her tinder, or 
 I'll chuck you acrost the nullah. If that 
 poipe was bruk — Ah ! Give her back to 
 me, sorr!" 
 
 Ortheris had passed the treasure to my 
 hand. It was an absolutely perfect clay, as 
 shiny as the black ball at pool. I took it 
 reverently, but I was firm. 
 
 " Will you tell us about the ghost-fight if 
 I do?" I said. 
 
 "Is ut the shtory that's troublin' you? 
 Av course I will. 1 mint to all along. I 
 was only gettin' at ut my own way, as Popp 
 Doggie said whin they found him thrying to 
 ram a cartridge down the muzzle. Orth'ris, 
 fall away !" 
 
 He released the little Londoner, took back 
 his pipe, filled it, and his eyes twinkled. 
 He has the most eloquent eyes of any one 
 that I know. 
 
 "Did I iver tell you," he began, "that I 
 was wanst the divil av a man?" 
 
 "You did," said Learoyd, with a childish 
 gravity that made Ortheris yell with laugh 
 ter, for Mulvaney was always impressing 
 upon us his merits in the old days. 
 
 "Did I iver tell you," Mulvaney continued
 
 74 MUL VA NE Y STORIES. 
 
 calmly, '' that I was wanst more av a divil 
 than I am now?" 
 
 " Mer — ria! You don't mean it?" said 
 Ortheris. 
 
 "Whin I was corp'ril — I was rejuced af- 
 therwards — but, as I say, whin I was cor- 
 p'ril, I was a divil of a man." 
 
 He was silent for nearly a minute, while 
 his mind rummaged among old memories 
 and his eye glowed. He bit upon the pipe- 
 stem and charged into his tale. 
 
 " Eyah ! They was great times. I'm ould 
 now ; me hide's wore off in patches; sinthry- 
 go has disconceited me, an' I'm a married 
 man tu. But I've had my day, I've had my 
 day, an' nothin' can take away the taste av 
 that! Oh, my time past, whin I put me fut 
 through ivry livin' wan av the Tin Com- 
 mandmints between revelly an' lights out, 
 blew the froth off the pewter, wiped me mus- 
 tache wid the back av me hand, an' slept on 
 ut all as quiet as a little child ! But ut's 
 over — ut's over, an' 'twill niver come back 
 to me; not though I prayed for a week av 
 Sundays. Was there any wan in the ould 
 rig'mint to touch Corp'ril Terence Mulva- 
 ney whin that same was turned out for se- 
 dukshin ? I niver met him. Ivry woman 
 that was not a witch was worth the runnin' 
 afther in those days, an' ivry man was my 
 dearest friend or — t had stripped to him an' 
 we knew wliich was the better av the tu. 
 
 " ^^'hin I was corp'ril I wud not ha'
 
 THE SOLID MULDOON. 75 
 
 changed wid the colonel — no, nor yet the 
 commander-in-chief. I wud be a sarjint. 
 There was nuthin' I wud not be ! Mother 
 av Hivin, look at me! Fwhat am I now ? 
 But no mattherl I must get to the other 
 ghosts — not the ones in my ould head. 
 
 " We was quartered in a big cantonmint 
 — 'tis no manner av use namin' name?, fur 
 ut might give thebarricks disrepitation — an' 
 I was the imperor av the earth to me own 
 mind, an' wan or tu women thought the 
 same. Small blame to thim. Afther we had 
 lain there a year, Bragin, the color-sarjint 
 av E Comp'ny, wint an' took a wife that was 
 lady's-maid to some big lady in the station. 
 She's dead now, is Annie Bragin — died in 
 child-bed at Kirpa Tal, or ut may ha' been 
 Almorah — siven — nine years agone, an' 
 Bragin he married ag'in. But she was a 
 pretty woman whin Bragin inthrojuced her 
 to cantonmint society. She had eyes like 
 the brown av a buttherfly's wing whin the 
 sun catches ut, an' a waist no thicker than 
 me arm, an' a little sof button av a mout' 
 I would ha' gone through all Asia bristlin' 
 wid bay 'nits to get the kiss av. An' her hair 
 was as long as the tail av the colonel's 
 charger — forgive me mintionin' that blun- 
 derin' baste in the same mouthfid wid 
 Annie Bragin — but 'twas all shpun gold, 
 an' time was whin a lock av ut was more 
 than di'monds to me. There was niver 
 pretty woman yet, an' I've had thruck
 
 76 M VL VAXEY STORIES. 
 
 wid a few, cud open the door to Annie 
 Braein. 
 
 " 'Twas in the Carth'lic chapel I saw her 
 first, me oi rollin' round as usual to see 
 fwhat was to be seen. ' You're too good for 
 Bragin, me love,' thinks I to meself, 'but 
 that's a mistake I can put straight, or me 
 name is not Terence Mulvaney.' 
 
 " Now take my wurrd for ut, you Orth'ris 
 there an' Learoyd, an' kape out av the mar- 
 ried quarters — as I did not. No good iver 
 comes av ut, an' there's always the chance 
 av your bein' found wid your face in the 
 dirt, a long picket in the back av your head, 
 an' your hands playing the fifes on the tread 
 av another man's doorstep. 'Twas so we 
 found O'Hara, he that Rafferty killed six 
 years gone, when he wint to his death wid 
 his hair oiled, whistlin' ' Billy O'Rourke' 
 betune his teeth. Kape out av the married 
 quarters, I say, as I did not. 'Tis onwhole- 
 sim, 'tis dangerous, an' 'tis ivrything else 
 that's bad, but — Oh, my sowl, 'tis swate 
 while it lasts! 
 
 " I was always hangin' about tliere whin 
 I was off duty an' Bragin wasn't, but niver 
 a sweet word be3'on' ordinar' did I get from 
 Annie Bragin. "Tis the pervarsity av the 
 sect,' sez I to mesilf, an' gave me cap an- 
 other cock on me head an' straightened me 
 back — 'twas the back av a dhrum-major in 
 those days — an' wint off as tho' I did not 
 care, wid all the women in the married quar-
 
 THE SOLID MULDOON. 11 
 
 ters laughin'. I Wcas pershuaded— most bhoys 
 are, I'm thinkin' — that no woman born av 
 woman cud stand against me av I hild up 
 me little finger. I had reason for thinkin' 
 that way — till I met Annie Bragin. 
 
 " Time an' ag'in whin I was blanhanderin' 
 in the dusk a man would go past me as quiet 
 as a cat. 'That's quare,' thinks I, 'for I 
 am, or I should be, the only man in these 
 parts. Now what divilment can Annie be 
 up to?' Thin I called meself a blayguard 
 for thinkin' such things ; but I thought thim 
 all the same. An' that, mark you, is the 
 way av a man. 
 
 " Wan evenin' I said: 'Mrs. Bragin, ma- 
 nin' no disrespect to you, who is that cor- 
 p'ril man' — I had seen the stripes though I 
 cud niver get sight av his face — 'who is that 
 corp'ril man that comes in always whin I'm 
 goin' away ?' 
 
 "'Mother av God!' sez she, turnin' as 
 white as me belt; ' have you seen him, too?' 
 
 '' ' Seen him !' sez I ; 'av coorse I have. 
 Did ye want me not to see him, for' — we 
 were standin' talkin' in the dhark, outside 
 the veranda av Bragin 's quarters — ' you'd 
 betther tell me to shut me eyes. Onless 
 I'm mistaken, he's come now.' 
 
 "An", sure enough, the corp'ril man was 
 walkin' to us, hangin' his head down as 
 though he was ashamed av himsilf. 
 
 "'Good-night, Mrs. Bragin,' sez I, very 
 cool ; ' 'tis not for me to interfere wid your
 
 78 MULVANEV STORIES. 
 
 a-mnors ; but you might manage these things 
 wid more dacincy. I'm off to canteen/ I 
 sez. 
 
 " I turned on my heel an' wint away, 
 swearin' I wud give that man a dhressin' 
 that wud shtop him messin' about the mar- 
 ried quarters for a month an' a week. I had 
 not tuk ten paces before Annie Bragin was 
 hangin' on to me arm, an* I cud feel that 
 she was shakin' all over. 
 
 " ' Stay wid me. Mister Mulvaney,' sez 
 she ; ' you're fiesli an' blood, at the least — 
 are ye not?' 
 
 " ' I'm all that,' sez I, an' my anger wint 
 away in a flash. ' Will I want to be asked 
 twice, Annie ?' 
 
 "Wid that I slipped me arm round her 
 waist, for, begad, I fancied she had surrin- 
 dered at discretion, an' the honors av war 
 were mine. 
 
 " ' Fvvhat nonsince is this ?' sez she, 
 dhrawin' hersilf up on the tips av her dear 
 little toes. 'Wid the mother's milk not dhry 
 on your impident mouth ? Let go !' she sez. 
 
 " ' Did ye not say just now that I was'fiesh 
 an' blood ?' sez t. ' I have not changed 
 since,' I sez ; an' I kep' me arm where ut 
 was. 
 
 " ' Your arms to yoursilf !' sez she, an' her 
 eyes sparkild. 
 
 " ' Sure, 'tis only human nature,' sez I ; 
 an' I kep' me arm where ut was. 
 
 " ' Nature or no nature,' sez she, 'you take
 
 THE SOLID MVLDOON. 79 
 
 your arm away or I'll tell Bragin, an' he'll 
 alter the nature av your head. Fwhat d'you 
 take lue for ?' she sez. 
 
 " ' A woman,' sez I j ' the prettiest in bar- 
 ricks.' 
 
 " ' A wife,' sez she ; ' the straightest in can- 
 tonmints !' 
 
 " Wid that I dropped me arm, fell back 
 tu paces, an' saluted, for I saw that she mint 
 fwhat she said." 
 
 " Then you know somethino; that some 
 men would give a good deal to be certain of. 
 How could you tell?" I demanded, in the 
 interests of science. 
 
 " Watch the hand," said Mulvaney ; " av 
 she shuts her hand tight, thumb down over 
 the knuckle, take up your hat an' go. You'll 
 only make a fool av yoursilf av you shtay. 
 But av the hand lies opin on the lap, or av 
 you see her thryin' to shut ut, an' she can't 
 — go on ! She's not past reasonin' wid. 
 
 " Well, as I was say in', I fell back, saluted, 
 an' was goin' away. 
 
 " ' Shtay wid me,' she sez. ' Look ! He's 
 comin' again.' 
 
 " She pointed to the veranda, an' by the 
 hoight av impart'nince, thecorp'ril man was 
 comin' out av Bragin's quarters. 
 
 " ' He's done that these five evenin's past,' 
 sez Annie Bragin. ' Oh, fwhat will I do ?' 
 
 '' ' He'll not do ut again,' sez 1, for I was 
 fightin' mad. 
 
 " Kape away from a man that has been a
 
 80 MULVASEY STORIES. 
 
 thrifle crossed in love till the fever's died 
 down. He rages like a brute baste. 
 
 " I wint up to the man in the veranda, 
 manin', as sure as I sit, to knock the life out 
 av him. He slipped into the open, 'Fwhat 
 are you doin' philanderin' about here, ye 
 soura av the gutter?' sez I, polite, to give 
 him his warnin', for I wanted him ready. 
 
 " He niver lifted his head, but sez, all 
 mournful an' melancolius, as if he thought 
 I wud be sorry for him : ' I can't find her,' 
 sez he. 
 
 " ' My troth,', sez I, ' you've lived too long 
 — you an' your seekin's an' flndin's in a da- 
 cint married woman's quarters ! Hould up 
 your head, ye frozen thief av Genesis,' sez I, 
 'an' you'll find all you want an' more!' 
 
 " But he niver hild up, an' I let go from 
 the shoulder to where the hair is short over 
 the eyebrows. 
 
 " ' That'll do your business,' sez I, but it 
 nearly did mine instid. I put me body- 
 weight behind the blow, but I hit nothin' at 
 all, an' near put my shoulther out. The 
 corp'ril man was not there, an' Annie Bra- 
 gin, who had been watchin' from the ve- 
 randa, throws up her heels an' carries on 
 like a cock whin his neck's wrung by the 
 dhrummer-bhoy. I wint back to her, for a 
 livin' woman, an' a woman like Annie Bra- 
 gin, is more than a p'rade-groun' full av 
 ghosts. I'd never seen a woman faint be- 
 fore, an' I stud it like a shtuck calf, askin'
 
 THE SOLID MVLDOON. 81 
 
 herwhether she was dead, an' prayin' her 
 for the love av nie, an' the love av her hus- 
 band, an' the love av the Vir^rin, to open her 
 blessed eyes again, an' callin' mesilf all the 
 names undher the canojiy av hivin for 
 plaguin' her wid my miserable a-moors whin 
 I ought to ha' stud betune her an' this corp'ril 
 man that had lost the number av his mess. 
 
 " I misremimber fwhat nonsince I said, 
 but I was not so far gone that I cud not hear 
 a fut on the dirt outside. 'Twas Bragin 
 comin' in, an' by the same token Annie was 
 comin' to. I jumped to the far end ay the 
 veranda an' looked as if butter wudn't melt 
 in me mout'. But Mrs. Quinn, the quar- 
 ter-master's wife that Avas, had tould Bragin 
 about me hangin' round Annie. 
 
 "'I'm not pleased wid you, IMulvaney,' 
 sez Bragin, unbucklin' his sword, for he had 
 been on duty. 
 
 "■'That's bad hearin', I sez, an' I knew 
 that the pickets were dhriven in. ' \\'hat 
 for, sarjint?' sez I. 
 
 '"Come outside,' sez he, 'an' I'll show 
 you why.' 
 
 "'I'm willin,' I sez; 'but me stripes are 
 none so ould tluit I can afford to lose thim. 
 Tell me now, who do I go out wid?' sez I. 
 
 " He was a quick man an' a just man, an' 
 saw fwhat I wud be afther ' Wid Mrs. 
 Bragin's husband,' sez he. He might ha' 
 known by me askin' that favor that I had 
 done him no wrong. 
 
 6
 
 82 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 " We wint to the back av the arsenal an' 
 I stripped to him, an' for ten minutes 'twas 
 all 1 could do to prevint him killin' himself 
 against me fistes. He was mad as a dumb 
 dog — just frothing with rage; but he had no 
 chanst wid me in reach, or learnin', or any- 
 thing else. 
 
 "'Will ye hear reason?' sez I, when his 
 first wind was runnin' out. 
 
 '' ' Not whoile I can see,' sez he. Wid that 
 I gave him both, one after the other, smash 
 through the low gyard that he'd been taught 
 whin he was a boy, an' the eyebrow shut 
 down on the cheek-bone like the wing of a 
 sick crow. 
 
 " ' Will ye hear reason now, 3'e brave 
 man?' sez I. 
 
 " ' Not whoile I can speak,' sez he, stag- 
 gerin' up blind as a stump. I was loath to 
 do ut, but I wint round an' swung into the 
 jaw side-on an' shifted ut a half pace to the 
 lef. 
 
 " ' Will you hear reason now?' sez I ; ' I 
 can't keep my timper much longer, an' 'tis 
 like I will hurt you.' 
 
 " ' Not whoile I can stand,' he mumbles 
 out avone corner av his mouth. So I closed 
 an' threw him — blind, dumb, an' sick, an' 
 jammed the jaw straight. 
 
 " ' You're an ould fool,Mister Bragin,' sez I. 
 
 " ' You're a young thief,' sez he, ' an' you've 
 bruk me heart, you an' Annie betune you !" 
 
 " Thin he began cryin' like a child as he
 
 THE SOLID MULDOON. 83 
 
 lay. I was sorry as I had iiiver been before. 
 'Tis an awful thing to see a strong man cry. 
 
 " ' I'll swear on the cross,' sez I. 
 
 " ' I care for none av your oaths,' sez he. 
 
 " ' Come back to your quarters,' sez I, * an' 
 if you don't believe the livin', begad, you 
 shall listen to the dead,' I sez. 
 
 " I hoisted him an' tuk him back to his 
 quarters. 'Mrs. Bragin,' sez I, ' here's a man 
 you can cure quicker than me.' 
 
 '* ' You've shamed me before me wife,' he 
 whimpers. 
 
 '' ' Have I so ?' sez I. ' By the look on 
 Mrs. Bragin's face I think I'm in for a 
 dhressin'-down worse than I gave you.' 
 
 " An' I was ! Annie Bragin was woild 
 wid indignation. There was not a name 
 that a dacint woman cud use that was not 
 given my way. I've had me colonel walk 
 roun' me like a cooper roun' a cask for fif- 
 teen minutes in ord'ly room bekaze I wint 
 into the corner shop an unstrapped lewnatic, 
 but all that I iver tuk from his rasp av a 
 tongue was ginger-pop to fwhat Annie tould 
 me. An' that, mark you, is the way av a 
 woman. 
 
 "Whin ut was done for want av breath, 
 an' Annie was bendin' over her husband, I 
 sez : ' 'Tis all thrue, an' I'm a blayguard an' 
 you're an honest woman ; but will you tell 
 him of wan service that I did you?' 
 
 "As I finished speakin' the corp'ril came 
 up to the veranda, an' Annie Bragin
 
 84 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 shquealed. The moon was up, an' we cud 
 see his face. 
 
 "'I can't find her,' sez the corp'ril man, 
 an' wint out like the puff av a candle. 
 
 '"Saints stand betune us an' evil!' sez 
 Bra,2;in, crossin' himself; 'that's Flahy av 
 the Tyrone Rig'mint.' 
 
 " ' Who was he ?' I sez, ' for he has given 
 me a dale av fightin' this day.' 
 
 " Bragin tould us that Flahy was a cor- 
 p'ril who lost his wife av cholera in those 
 quarters three years gone, an' wint mad, an' 
 ' walked' afther they buried him, huntin' for 
 her. 
 
 "'Well,' sez I to Bragin, 'he's been 
 hookin' out av purgathory to kape company 
 wid Mrs. Bragin ivry evcnin' for the last 
 fortnight. You may tell Mrs. Quinn, wid 
 my love, for I know that she's been talkin' 
 to you, an' you've been listenin', that she 
 ought to ondherstand the differ 'twixt a man 
 an' a ghost. She's had three husbands,' sez 
 I, ' an' you'v^e got a wife too good for you. 
 Instid av which you lave her to beboddered 
 by ghosts an' — an' all manner av evil spir- 
 ruts. I'll nivcr go talkin' in the way av po- 
 liteness to a man's wife again. Good-night 
 to you both,' sez I, an' wid that I wint away, 
 havin' fought wid woman, man an' divil all 
 in the heart av an hour. By the same token 
 I gave Father Victor wan rupee to say mass 
 for Flahy's soul, me bavin' discommoded 
 him by shticking my fist into his systim."
 
 THE SOLID MULDOOX. 85 
 
 " Your ideas of politeness seem rather 
 large, Mulvaney," I said. 
 
 " That's as you look at ut," said Mulva- 
 ney, calmly; "Annie Bragin niver cared for 
 me. For all tliat, I did not want to leave 
 anything behin' me that Bragin could take 
 hould av to be angry wid her about, whin 
 an honu-st wurrud cud ha' cleared all up. 
 There's nothin' like opin-speakin'. Ortli'ris, 
 ye scut, let me put me oi to that bottle, for 
 me throat's asdhry as whin I thought I wud 
 get a kiss from Annie Bragin. An' that's 
 fourteen years gone! Eyah ! Cork's own 
 city an' the blue sky above ut — an' the times 
 that was — the times that was !"
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 
 
 Der jungere Ulilanen 
 Sit round mit open month 
 While Breitmann tell dem stdories 
 Of tightin' in the South ; 
 Und gif dem moral lessons, 
 How before der battle pops, 
 Take a little prayer to Himmel 
 Und a goot long drink of Schnapps. 
 
 Huns Breitmann' s Ballads. 
 
 " Mary, Mother av Mercy, fwhat the divil 
 possist us to take an' kape this melancolius 
 counthry ? Answer me that, sorr." 
 
 It was Mulvaney who was speaking. The 
 hour was one o'clock of a stifling hot June 
 night, and the place was the main gate of 
 Fort Araara, most desolate and least desir- 
 able of all the fortresses in India. What I 
 was doing there at that hour is a question 
 which only concerns McGrath, the sergeant 
 of the guard, and the men on the gate. 
 
 "Slape," said Mulvaney, " is a shuparflu- 
 ous necessity. This gyard'll shtay till re- 
 lieved." He himself was stripped to the 
 waist; Learoyd on the next bedstead was 
 dripping from the skinful of w'ater which Or- 
 theris, arrayed only in white trousers, had 
 just sluiced over his shoulders ; and a fourth 
 (86)
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 87 
 
 private was muttering uneasily as he dozed 
 open-mouthed in the ghire of the great 
 guard-lantern. I'he heat under the bricked 
 archwa}^ was terrifying. 
 
 " The worrst night that iver I remimber. 
 Eyah ! Is all hell loose this tide?" said 
 Mulvaney. A put!" of burning wind lashed 
 through the wicket-gate like a wave of the 
 sea, and Ortheris swore. 
 
 "Are ye more heasy, Jock?" he said to 
 Learoyd. " Put yer 'ead between yer legs. 
 It'll go orf in a minute." 
 
 " Ah don't care. Ah would not care, but 
 ma heart is plaayin' tivvy-tivvy on ma ribs. 
 Let me die! Oh, leave me die!" groaned 
 the huge Yorkshire man, who was feeling 
 the heat acutely, being of fleshly build. 
 
 The sleeper under the lantern roused for a 
 moment and raised himself on his elbow^ 
 "Die and be damned, then !"he said. "I'm 
 damned and I can't die!" 
 
 "Who's that?" I whispered, for the voice 
 was new to me. 
 
 " Gentleman born," said Mulvaney. "Cor- 
 p'ril wan year, sarjint nex'. Red-hot on his 
 c'mission, but dhrinks like a fish. He'll be 
 gone before the cowld weather's here. So !'* 
 
 He slipped his boot, and with the naked 
 toe just touched the trigger of his Martini. 
 Ortheris misunderstood the movement, and 
 the next instant the Irishman's rifle was 
 dashed aside, while Ortheris stood before 
 him, his eyes blazing with reproof.
 
 88 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 " You !" said Ortheris. " My Gawd, you ! 
 If it was you, wot Avould we do ?" 
 
 " Kape quiet, little man," said Mulvaney, 
 putting him aside, but very gently ; " 'tis 
 not me, nor will ut be me whoile Dinah 
 Shadd's here. I Avas but showin' some- 
 thin'." 
 
 Learoyd, bowed on his bedstead, groaned, 
 and the gentleman ranker sighed in his 
 sleep. Ortheris took Mulvaney 's tendered 
 pouch, and we three smoked gravely for a 
 space while the dust-devils danced on the 
 glacis and scoured the red-hot plain without. 
 
 "Pop?" said Ortheris, wiping his fore- 
 head. 
 
 " Don't tantalize wid talkin' av dhrink, or 
 I'll shtuff you into your own breech-block 
 an' fire you off!" grunted Mulvaney. 
 
 Ortheris chuckled, and froju a niche in the 
 veranda produced six bottles of gingerade. 
 
 "Where did ye get ut, ye Machiavel?" 
 said Mulvaney. '"Tis no bazaar pop." 
 
 " 'Ow do Hi know wot the orf'cers drink ?" 
 answered Ortheris. "Arstthe mess-man." 
 
 ''Ye'llhave a disthrict coort- martial settin' 
 on ye yet, me son," said Mulvaney, " but" 
 — he opened a bottle — " I will not report ye 
 this time. Fwhat's in the mess-kid is mint 
 for the belly, as they say, 'specially whin 
 that mate is dhrink. Here's luck! A bloody 
 war or a — no, we've got the sickly season. 
 War, thin !" — he waved the innocent "pop" 
 to the four quarters of heaven. "Bloody
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 89 
 
 war! north, east, south an' west ! Jock, ye 
 quakin' hayrick, come an' dhrink." 
 
 But Learoyd, half mad with the fear of 
 death presaged in the swelling veins of his 
 neck, was imploring his Maker to strike him 
 dead, and fighting for more air between his 
 prayers. A second time Ortheris drenched 
 the quivering body with water, and the giant 
 revived. 
 
 " An' Ah divn't see thot a mon is i' fettle 
 for gooin' on to live; an' Ah divn't see thot 
 there is owt for t' livin' for. Hear now, 
 lads ! Ah'm tired — tired. There's nobbut 
 water i' ma bones. Let me die !" 
 
 The hollow of the arch gave back Lea- 
 royd's broken whisper in a bass boom. 
 Mulvaney looked at me hopelessly, but I re- 
 membered how the madness of despair had 
 once fallen upon Ortheris, that weary, weary 
 afternoon on the banks of the Khem.i River, 
 and how it had been exorcised by the skill- 
 ful magician Mulvaney. 
 
 "Talk, Terence !" I said, "or we shall have 
 Learoyd slinging loose, and he'll be worse 
 than Ortheris was. Talk! He'll answer to 
 your voice." 
 
 Almost before Ortheris had deftly thrown 
 all the rifles of the guard on Muivane3''s 
 bedstead, the Irishman's voice was ui)lifted 
 as that of one in the middle of a story, and, 
 turning to me, he said : 
 
 " In barricks or out of it, as you say, sorr, 
 an Oirish rig'mint is the divil an' more. 'Tis
 
 90 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 only fit for a young man wid eddicated 
 fisteses. Oh, the crame av disruption is an 
 Oirish rig' mint, an' rippin', tearin', ragin' 
 scattherers in the field av war! My first 
 rig'mint was Oirish — Faynians an' rebils to 
 the heart av their marrow was they, an' so 
 they fought for the widdy betther than most, 
 bein' contrairy— Oirish. They was the Black 
 Tyrone. You've heard av thim, sorr?" 
 
 Heard of them ! I knew the Black Ty- 
 rone for the choicest collection of unmiti- 
 gated blackguards, dog-stealers, robbers of 
 hen-roosts, assaulters of innocent citizens, 
 and recklessly daring heroes in the Army 
 List. Half Europe and half Asia has haJi 
 cause to know the Black Tyrone — good luck 
 be to their tattered colors as glory has ever 
 been ! 
 
 " They was hot pickils and ginger! I cut 
 a man's head tu deep wid my belt in the 
 days av my youth, an', afther some circum- 
 stances which I will oblitherate, I came to 
 the ould rig'mint, bearin' the character av a 
 man wid hands an' feet. But, as I was goin' 
 to tell you, I fell acrost the Black Tyrone 
 ag'in wan day whin we wanted thim power- 
 ful bad. Orth'ris, me son, fwhat was the 
 name av that place where they sint wan 
 comp'ny av us an' wan av the Tyrone roun' 
 a hill an' down again, all for to tache the 
 Paythans somethin' they'd niver learned be- 
 fore? Afther Ghuzni 'twas." 
 
 " Don't know what the bloomin' Paythans
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 91 
 
 called it. We called it Silver's Theayter. 
 You know that, sure !" 
 
 " Silver's Theatre — so 'twas. A gut betune 
 two hills, as black as a bucket, an' as thin as 
 a gurl's waist. There was overmany Pay- 
 thans for our convaynience in the gut, an' 
 begad they called thimsilves a reserve — 
 bein' impident by natur ! Our Scotchies an' 
 lashins av Gurkys was poundin' into some 
 Paythan rig'mints, I think 'twas. Scotchies 
 an 'Gurkys are twins bekaze they're so on- 
 like, an' they get dhrunk together whin God 
 plases. Well, as I was sayin', they sint wan 
 conip'ny av the Ouldan' wan av the Tyrone 
 to double up the hill an' clane out the Pay- 
 than reserve. OrPcers was scarce in thim 
 days, fwhat wid dysintry an' not takin' care 
 av thimselves, an' we was sint out wid only 
 wan orfcer for the comp'n^' ; but he was a 
 man that had his feet beneath him, an' all 
 his teeth in their sockuts." 
 
 "Who was he ?" I asked. 
 
 " Captain O'Neil— Old Crook— Cruik-na- 
 bulleen — him that I tould ye that tale av 
 whin he was in Burmah. Hah ! He was a 
 man. The Tyrone tuk a little orfcer bhoy, 
 })Ut divil a bit was he in command, as I'll 
 dimonstrate presintly. We an' they came 
 over the brow av the hill, wan on each side 
 av the gut, an' there was that ondacint 
 reserve waitin' down below like rats in a 
 pit. 
 
 " 'Howld on, men,' sez Crook, who tuk a
 
 92 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 mother's care av us ahvaj^s. ' Rowl some 
 rocks on thim by way av visitin'-kyards.' 
 We hadn't rowled more than twinty bowl- 
 ders, an' the Paythans was beginnin' to 
 swear tremenj us, whin the little orf-cerbhoy 
 av the Tyrone shqueaks out acrost the val- 
 ley: 'Fwhat the divil an' all are you doin', 
 shpoilin' the fun for my men? Do ye not 
 see they'll stand?" 
 
 '"Faith, that's a rare pluckt wan!' sez 
 Crook. 'Niver mind the rocks, men. Come 
 along down an' take tay wid thim !' 
 
 " ' There's damned little sugar in ut !' sez 
 my rear-rank man; but Crook heard. 
 
 "'Have ye not all got spoons?' he sez, 
 laughin', an' down we wint as fast as we cud. 
 Learoyd bein' sick at the base, he, av coorse, 
 was not there." 
 
 " Thot's a lie!" said Learoyd, dragging his 
 bedstead nearer. '" Ah gotten thot theer, an' 
 you knaw it, Mulvaney." He threw up his 
 arms, and from the right arm-pit ran, diago- 
 nally through the fell of his chest, a thin 
 white line terminating near the fourth left 
 rib. 
 
 "My mind's goin'," said Mulvaney, the 
 unabashed. " Ye were there. Fwhat was 
 I thinkin' of? 'Twas another man, av 
 coorse. Well, you'll remimber thin, Jock, 
 how we an' the Tyrone met wid a bang at 
 the bottom an' got jammed past all movin' 
 among the Paythans." 
 
 •' Ow 1 It was a tight 'ole. Hi was squeeged
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 93 
 
 till I thought I'd bloomin' well bust," said 
 Ortheris, rubbing his stomach meditatively. 
 
 " 'Twas no place for a little man, but wan 
 little man" — Mulvaney put his hand on Or- 
 theris's shoulder — "saved the life av me. 
 There weshtuck,for divil a bit did the Pay- 
 thans flinch, an' divil a bit dare we; our 
 business bein' to clear 'em out. An' the 
 most exthryordinar' thing av all was that 
 we an' they just rushed into each other's 
 arrums, an' there was no firin' for a long 
 time. Nothin' but knife an' bay'nit when 
 we cud get our hands free ; that was not 
 often. We was breast on to thim, an' the 
 Tyrone was yelpin' behind av us in a way I 
 didn't see the lean av at first. But I knew 
 later, an' so did the Paythans. 
 
 '"Knee to knee!' sings out Crook, wid a 
 laugh whin the rush av our comin' into the 
 gut shtopped, an' he was huggin' a hairy 
 Paythan, neither bein' able to do anything 
 to the other, tho' both was wishful. 
 
 "' Breast to breast!' he says, as the T3'rone 
 was pushin' us forward closer an' closer, 
 
 "' An' ban' over back!' sez a sarjint that 
 was behin'. I saw a sword lick out past 
 Crook's ear like a snake's tongue, an' the 
 Paythan was tuk in the apple av his throat 
 like a pig at Dromeen fair. 
 
 " ' Thank ye. Brother Inner Guard,' sez 
 Crook, cool as a cucumber widout salt. ' I 
 wanted that room.' An' he wint forward by 
 the thickness av a man's body, havin'
 
 94 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 turned the Paythan undher him. The man 
 bit the heel off Crook's boot in his death- 
 bite. 
 
 "'Push, men!' sez Crook. 'Push, ye 
 paper-backed beojgars !' he sez. ' Am I to 
 pull ye through?' So we pushed, an' we 
 kicked, an' we swung, an' we swore, an' the 
 grass bein' slippery, our heels wouldn't bite, 
 an' God help the front-rank man that wint 
 down that day !" 
 
 " 'Ave you ever bin in the pit hentrance 
 o' the Vic. on a thick night?" interrupted 
 Ortheris. " It was worse nor that, for they 
 was goin' one way, an' we wouldn't 'ave it. 
 Leastaways, Hi 'adn't much to say." 
 
 " Faith, me son, ye said ut, thin. I kep' 
 the little man betune my knees as long as I 
 cud, but he was pokin' roun' wid his bay'- 
 nit, blindin' an' stiffin' feroshus. The divil 
 of a man is Orth'ris in a ruction — aren't 
 ye?" said Mulvaney. 
 
 " Don't make game !" said the cockney. 
 " I knowed I wasn't no good then, but I guv 
 'em compot from the lef flank when we 
 opened out. No!" he said, bringing doAvn 
 his hand with a thump on the bedstead, "a 
 bay 'nit ain't no good to a little man — might 
 as well 'ave a bloomin' fishin'-rod! I 'ate 
 a clawin', maulin'mess, but gimme a breech 
 that's wore out a bit, an' hamminition one 
 year in store, to let the powder kiss the bul- 
 let, an' put me somewheres where I ain't 
 trod on by 'ulkin swine like you, an' s'elp
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 95 
 
 me Gawd, I co^ild bowl you over five times 
 outer seven at height 'undred. Would yer 
 try, you lumberin' Hirishman?" 
 
 " No, ye wasp. I've seen ye do ut. I say 
 there's nothin' better than the bay'nit, wid 
 a long reach, a double twist av ye can, an' a 
 slow recover." 
 
 " Dom the bay'nit," said Learoyd, who 
 had been listening intently. " Look a-here !" 
 He ])i('lved up a rifle an inch below the 
 foresight with an underhanded action, and 
 used it exactly as a man would use a dagger, 
 
 "Sitha," said he, softly, " thot's better 
 than owt, for a mon can bash t' faace wi' thot, 
 an', if he divn't, he can breeak t' forearm o' t' 
 gaard. 'Tis not i' t' books, though. Give 
 me t' butt." 
 
 " Each does ut his own way, like makin' 
 love," said Mulvaney, quietly ; "the butt or 
 the bay'nit or the bullet accordin' to the 
 natur' av the man. Well, as I was sayin', 
 we shtuck there breathin' in each other's 
 faces an' swearin' powerful, Orth'ris cursin' 
 the mother that bore him bekaze he was not 
 three inches taller. 
 
 " Prisintly he sez: 'Duck, ye lump, an' I 
 can get at a man over your shouldher !" 
 
 " ' You'll blow me head off,' I sez, throwin' 
 me arm clear ; 'go through under me arm- 
 pit, ye blood-thirsty little scut,' sez I, ' but 
 don't shtick me or I'll wring your ears 
 round.' 
 
 " Fwhat was ut ye gave the Pay than man
 
 96 MUL VAXEY S TORIES. 
 
 forninst me, him that cut ;it me Avhin I 
 cudn't move hand or foot? Hot or cowld 
 was ut ?" 
 
 " Cold," said Ortheris, " up an' under the 
 rib-jint. 'E come down flat. Be^t for you 
 'e did." 
 
 " Thrue, me son ! This jam thing that 
 I'm talkin' about lasted for five minutes 
 good, an' thin we got our arms clear an' 
 wint in. I misremirnber exactly fwhat I 
 did, but I didn't want Dinah to be a widdy 
 at the Depot. Thin, after some promishku- 
 ous hackin' we shtuck again, an' the Tyrone 
 behin' was callin' us dogs an' cowards an' 
 all manner av names ; we barrin' their way. 
 
 "'Fwhat ails the Tyrone?' thinks I; 
 'they've the makin's av a most convanient 
 fight here.' 
 
 " ' A man behind me sez beseechful an' in 
 a whisper : 'Let me get at thim ! For the 
 love of Mary give me room beside 3"e, ye tall 
 man!' 
 
 " 'An' who are you that's so anxious to be 
 kilt?' sez I, widout turnin' my head, for the 
 long knives was dancin' in front like the sun 
 on Donegal Bay whin ut's rough. 
 
 " ' We've seen our dead,' he sez, squeezin' 
 into me; 'our dead that was men two days 
 gone! An' me that was his cousin by blood 
 could not bring Tim Qoulan off! Let me 
 get on,' he sez, ' let me get to thim or I'll run 
 ye through the back !' 
 
 " ' My troth,' thinks I, ' if the Tyrone have
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUAKD. d i 
 
 seen their dead, God help the Paythans this 
 day !' An' thin I knew why the Oirish was 
 ragin' behind us as they was. 
 
 *' I gave room to the man, an' he ran for- 
 ward wid the Haymakers' Lift on liis bay'nit 
 an' swung a Paytlian clear oti'his feet by the 
 belly-band av the brute, an' the iron bruk at 
 the lockin'-ring. 
 
 " ' Tim Coulan '11 slape aisy to-night,' sez 
 he wid a grin ; an' the next minut his head 
 was in two halves an' he wint down grinnin' 
 by sections. 
 
 " The Tyrone was pushin' an', pushin' in, 
 an' our men was swearin' at thim, an' Crook 
 was workin' away in front av us, his sword- 
 arm swingin' like a pump-handle an' his re- 
 volver spittin' like a cat. But the strange 
 thing av ut was the quiet that lay upon. 
 'Twas like a fight in a drame — except for 
 thim that was dead. 
 
 " Whin I gave room to the Oirishman I 
 was expinded an' forlorn in my inside. 'Tis 
 a way I have, savin' your prisince, sorr, in 
 action. ' Let me out, bhoys,' sez I, backin' 
 in among thim. 'I'm goin' to be onwell!' 
 Faith the)'' gave me room at the wurrud, 
 though they would not ha' given room for all 
 hell wid the chill off. Whin I got clear, I 
 was, savin' your prisince, sorr, outragis sick 
 bekaze I had dhrunk heavy that day, 
 
 " Well an' far out av harm was a sarjint 
 av the Tyrone sittin' on the little orf'cer 
 bhoy who had stopped Crook from rowlin' 
 7
 
 •98 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 the rocks. Oh, lie was a beautiful bhoy, an' 
 the long black curses was slidin' out av his 
 innocint mouth like mornin'-jew from a 
 rose ! 
 
 '' ' Fwhat have you got there ?' sez I to the 
 sarjint. 
 
 " ' Wan av her majesty's bantams wid his 
 spurs up,' sez he. ' He's goin' to coort-mar- 
 tial me.' 
 
 " ' Let me go !' sez the little orf'cer bhoy. 
 ' Let me go an' command me men !' mainin' 
 thereby the Black Tyrone, which was beyond 
 any command — ay, even av they had made 
 the divil a field-orf'cer. 
 
 " ' His father howlds me mother's cow- 
 feed in Clonmel,' sez the man that was sit- 
 tin' on him. ' Will I go back to his mother 
 an' tell her that I've let him throw himself 
 away? Lie still, ye little pinch of dyna- 
 mite, an' coort-martial me aftherwards.' 
 
 '''Good,' sez I; ''tis the likes av him 
 makes the likes av the commandher-in chief, 
 but Ave must presarve thim. Fwhat d' you 
 want to do, sorr ?' sez I, very politeful. 
 
 " ' Kill the beggars — kill the beggars !' he 
 shqueaks, his blue eyes fairly brimmin' wid 
 tears. 
 
 " ' An' how'll ye do that ?' sez I. ' You've 
 shquibbed off your revolver like a child wid 
 a cracker ; you can make no play wid that 
 fine large sword av yours ; an' your hand's 
 shakin' like an asp on a leaf. Lie still and 
 grow,' sez I.
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 99 
 
 "'Get back to your comp'ny,' sez he; 
 'you're insolint !' 
 
 " ' All in good time,' sez I ; 'but I'll have 
 a dlirink first." 
 
 " 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 
 orfcer bhoy undher the sarjint. 
 
 '" Fwat's yonder?' sez he. 
 
 "'Mutiny, sorr,' sez the sarjint, an' the 
 orfcer bhoy begins pleadin' pitiful to Crook 
 to be let go ; but divil a bit wud Crook budge. 
 
 "' Kape him there,' he sez; ' 'tis no child's 
 work this day. By the same token,' sez he, 
 ' I'll confishcate that iligant nickel-plated 
 scent-sprinkler av yours, for me own has 
 been vomitin' dishgraceful !' 
 
 "The fork av his hand was black wid the 
 back-spit of the machine. So he tuk the 
 orfcer bhoy's revolver. Ye may look, sorr, 
 but, by me faith, there's a dale more done 
 in the field than iver gets into field ordhers ! 
 
 '"Come on, IVIulvaney,' sez Crook; 'is 
 this a coort-martial?' The two av us wint 
 back together into the mess an' the Paythans 
 were still standin' up. They was not too 
 impart'nint though, for the Tyrone was 
 callin' wan to another t^i remimber Tim 
 Coulan.
 
 100 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 " Crook stopped outside av the strife an' 
 looked anxious, his eyes rollin' roun'. 
 
 " ' Fwhat is ut, sorr ?' sez I ; ' can I get ye 
 anything ?' 
 
 " ' Where's a bugler ?' sez he. 
 
 " I wint into the crowd — our men was 
 dhrawin' breath behin' the Tyrone who was 
 fightin' like sowls in tormint — an' prisintly 
 I came acrost little Frehan, our bugler 
 bhoy, pokin' roun' among the best wid a rifle 
 an' bay 'nit. 
 
 "' Is amusin' yoursilf fwhat you're paid 
 for, ye limb?' sez I, catchin' him by the 
 scruff. ' Come out av that an' attind to your 
 duty,' I sez ; but the bhoy was not pleased. 
 
 " ' I've got wan,' sez he, grinnin', ' big as 
 you, Mulvaney, an' fair half as ugly. Let 
 me go get another.' 
 
 " I was dish pleased at the personability 
 av that remark, so I tucks him under me 
 arm an' carries him to Crook, who was 
 watchin' how the fight wint. Crook cuffs 
 him till the bhoy cries, an' thin sez nothin' 
 for a whoile. 
 
 " The Paythans began to flicker onaisy, 
 an' our men roared. ' Opin ordher! Dou- 
 ble!' sez Crook. ' Blow, child, blow for the 
 honor av the British arrmy !' 
 
 " That bhoy blew like a typhoon, an' the 
 Tyrone an' we opined out as the Paythans 
 broke, an' I saw that fwhat had gone before 
 wud be kissin' an' huggin' to fwhat was to 
 come. We'd dhruv thim into a broad part
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 101 
 
 av the gut whin they gave, and thin we 
 opined out an' fair danced down the valley, 
 dhrivin' thim before us. Oh, 'twas lovely, 
 an' stiddy, too ! There was the sarjints on 
 the flanks av what was left av us, kopin' 
 touch, an' the fire was runnin' from flank to 
 flank, an' the Paythanswas dhroppin'. We 
 opined out wid the widenin' av the valley, 
 an' whin the valley narrowed we closed again 
 like the shticks on a lady's fan, an' at the 
 far ind av the gut where they thried to 
 stand we fair blew them off their feet, for 
 we had expinded very little ammunition by 
 reason av the knife work." 
 
 "Hi used thirty rounds goin' down that 
 valley," said Ortheris, "an' it was gentle- 
 man's work. Might 'a' done it in a white 
 'andkerchief an' pink silk stockin's, that 
 part. Hi was on in that piece." 
 
 "You could ha' heard the Tyrone yellin' 
 a mile away," said Mulvaney, " an' 'twas all 
 their sarjints cud do to get thim off. They 
 M'as mad — mad — mad 1 Crook sits down in 
 the quiet that fell whin we had gone down 
 the valley, an' covers his fiice wid his hands. 
 Prisintly we all came back accordin' to our 
 natures and disposishins, for they, mark you, 
 shoAV through the hide av a man in that 
 hour. 
 
 '" Bhoys 1 bhoys !' sez Crook to himself. 
 ' I misdoubt we could ha' engaged at long 
 range an' saved betther men than me.' He 
 looked at our dead an' said no more.
 
 102 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 " ' Captain dear,' sez a man av the Tyrone 
 comin' up wid his mouth bigger than iver 
 his mother kissed ut, spittin' blood like a 
 whale; 'captain,' sez he, 'if wan or two in 
 the sthalls have been discommoded, the gal- 
 lery have enjoyed the performinces av a 
 Roshus.' 
 
 " Thin I knew that man for the Dublin 
 dock-rat he was — wan of the bhoys that 
 made the lessee av Silver's Theatre gray be- 
 fore his time wid tearin' out the bowils av 
 the benches an' t'rowin' thim into the pit. 
 So I passed the wurrud that I knew when I 
 was in the Tyrone an' we lay in Dublin. ' I 
 don't know who 'twas,' I whispers, ' an' I 
 don't care, but any ways I'll knock the face 
 av you, Tim Kelley." 
 
 "'Eyah!' sez the man, 'was you there, 
 too? We'll call ut Silver's Theatre.' Half 
 the Tyrone, knowin' the ould place, tuk ut 
 up; so we called it Silver's Theatre. 
 
 " The little orf'cer hhoy av the Tyrone 
 was thrimblin' an' cryin'. He had no heart 
 for the coort-martials that he talked so big 
 upon. ' Ye' 11 do well later,' sez Crook, very 
 quiet, ' for not bein' allowed to kill your- 
 self for amusemint.' 
 
 " ' I'm a dishgraced man !' sez the little 
 orf cer bhoy. 
 
 "' Put me undher arrest, sorr, if you will, 
 but, by me sowl, I'd do ut again sooner than 
 face your mother wid you dead,' sez the sar- 
 jint that had sat on his head, standin' to
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 103 
 
 attention an' salutin'. But the young wan 
 only cried as tho' his little heart was 
 breakin'. 
 
 " Thin another man av the Tyrone came 
 up, wid the fog av fightin' on him." 
 
 "The what, Mulvaney?" 
 
 " Fog av fightin'. You know, sorr, that, 
 like makin luv, ut takes each man dif- 
 f'rint. Now, I can't help bein' powerful 
 sick whin I'm in action. Orth'ris, here, 
 niver stops swearin' from ind to ind, an' the 
 only time that Learoyd opins his mouth to 
 sing is whin he is messin' wid other people's 
 heads; for he's a dhirty fighter is Jock Lea- 
 royd. Recruities sometime cry, an' some- 
 time they don't know fwhat they do, an' 
 sometime they are all for cuttin' throats, an' 
 such like dirtiness ; but some men get 
 heavy-head-dhrunk on the fightin'. This 
 man was. He was staggerin', an' his eyes 
 were half shut' an' we cud hear him dhraw 
 breath twint}^ yards away. He sees the 
 little orf'cer bhoy, an' comes up, talkin' 
 thick an' drowsy to himsilf. ' Blood the 
 young whelp!' he sez ; 'blood the young 
 whelp ;' an' wid that he threw up his arms, 
 shpun roun', an' dropped at our feet, dead 
 as a Paythan, an' there was niver sign or 
 scratch on him. They said 'twas his heart 
 was rotten, but oh, 'twas a quare thing to 
 see I 
 
 " Thin we wint to bury our dead, for we 
 wud not lave them to the Paythans, an' in
 
 104 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 movin' amono; the haythen we nearly lost 
 that little orf'cer bhoy. He was for givin' 
 wan divil wather and layin' him aisy against 
 a rock. ' Be careful, sorr,' sez I ; ' a wounded 
 Paythan's worse than a live wan.' My 
 troth, before the words was out of me 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 orfcer 
 bhoy turned very white, for the hair av half 
 his head was singed away. 
 
 " ' I tould you so, sorr !' sez I ; an' afther 
 that, whin he wanted to help a Paythan I 
 stud wid the muzzle contagious to the ear. 
 They dare not do anythin' but curse. The 
 Tyrone was growlin' like dogs over a bone 
 that had been taken away too soon, for they 
 had seen their dead an' they wanted to kill 
 ivry sowl on the ground. Crook tould thim 
 that he'd blow the hide off any man that 
 misconducted himself; but, seeing that ut 
 was the first time the Tyrone had iver seen 
 their dead, I do not wondher they were on 
 the sharp. 'Tis a shameful sight! Whin I 
 first saw ut I wud niver ha' given quarter to 
 any man north of the Khaibar — no, nor 
 woman either, for the women used to come 
 out afther dhark — Auggrh ! 
 
 " Well, evenshually we buried our dead 
 an' tuk away our wounded, an' come over 
 the brow av the hills to see the Scotchies an' 
 the Gurkys taking tay wid tlie Paythans in 
 
 I
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 105 
 
 biicketsfuls. We were a gang av dissolute 
 ruffians, for the blood had caked the dust, 
 an' the sweat had cut the cake, an' our bay'- 
 nits was hangin'like butcher's steels betune 
 our legs, an' most av us were marked one way 
 or another. 
 
 " A staff orf'cer man, clean as a new rifle, 
 rides up an' sez : * What damned scarecrows 
 are you?' 
 
 "' A company av her majesty's Black Ty- 
 rone, an' Avan av the ould rig'mint,' sez 
 Crook very quiet, givin' our visitor the fiure 
 as 'twas. 
 
 " ' Oh !' sez the staff orf'cer, ' did you dis- 
 lodge that reserve?' 
 
 " ' No !' sez Crook, an' the Tyrone laughed. 
 
 " ' Thin fwhat the divil have ye done ?' 
 
 "'Disthroyed ut,' sez Crook, an' he took 
 us on, but not before Toomey that was in the 
 Tyrone sez aloud, his voice somewhere in 
 his stummick : ' Fwhat in the name av mis- 
 fortune does this parrit widout a tail mane 
 by shtoppin' the road av his betthers?' 
 
 "The staff orf'cer wint blue, and Toome}^ 
 makes him pink by changin' to the voice av 
 a minowderin' woman an' savin': 'Come 
 an' kiss me, major dear, forme husband's at 
 the wars, an' I'm all alone at the depot.' 
 
 " The staff orf'cer wint awaj^ an' I cud see 
 Crook's shoulthers shakin'. 
 
 *' His cor])'ril checks Toomey. 'Lave me 
 alone,' sez Toomey, widout a wink. " I was 
 his batman before he was married an' he
 
 106 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 knows fwhat I mane, avyou don't. There's 
 nothin' like livin' in the hoight av society. 
 D'you reniimber that, Orth'ris?' 
 
 " ' Hi do, Toomey ; 'e died in 'orspital, next 
 week it was, 'cause I bought 'arf his kit; an' 
 I remember after that — ' " 
 
 " Guard, turn out !" 
 
 The relief had come; it was four o'clock. 
 "I'll catch a kyart for 3'ou, sorr," said Mul- 
 vaney, diving hastily into his accouter- 
 ments. " Come up to the top av the fort an' 
 we'll pershue our invistigations into Mc- 
 Grath's shtable." The relieved guard 
 strolled round the main bastion on its way 
 to the swimming-bath, and Learoyd grew 
 almost talkative. Ortheris looked into the 
 fort ditch and across the plain. "Ho! it's 
 weary waitin' for Ma-ary !" he hummed ; 
 " but I'd like to kill some more bloomin' 
 Paythans before my time's up. War! 
 Bloody war ! North, east, south and west." 
 
 "Amen," said Learoyd, slowly. 
 
 " Fwhat's here ?" said IVIulvaney, checking 
 at a blur of white by the foot of the old sentry 
 box. He stooped and touched it. " It's 
 Norah — Norah McTaggart ! Why, Nonie 
 darlin', fwhat are ye doin' out av your 
 mother's bed at this time?" 
 
 The two-year-old child of Sergeant Mc- 
 Taggart must have wandered for a breath of 
 cool air to the very verge of the parapet of 
 the fort ditch. Her tiny night-shift was 
 gathered into a wisp round her neck and she
 
 WITH THE MAIN GUARD. 107 
 
 moaned in her sleep. "See there I" said 
 Mulvaney ; " poor lamb ! Look at the heat- 
 rash on the innocent skin av her. 'Tis hard 
 — crool hard even for us. Fwhat must it be 
 for these ? Wake up, Nonie, your mother 
 will be woild about you. Begad, the child 
 mieht ha' fallen into the ditch !" 
 
 He picked her up in the growing light, 
 and set her on his shoulder, and her fair 
 curls touched the grizzled stubble of his 
 temples. Ortheris and Learoyd followed, 
 snapping their fingers, while Norah smiled 
 at them a sleepy smile. Then caroled Mul- 
 vaney, clear as a lark, dancing the baby on 
 his arm : 
 
 ''If any young man should marry you, 
 Say nothin' about the joke ; 
 That iver ye slep' in a sinthry box, 
 Wrapped up in a soldier's cloak." 
 
 "Though, on me sowl, Nonie," he said, 
 gravely, "there was not much cloak about 
 you. Niver mind, you won't dhress like 
 this ten years to come. Kiss your friends 
 an' run along to your mother." 
 
 Nonie, set down close to the married 
 quarters, nodded with the quiet obedience 
 of the soldier's child, but, ere she pattered 
 off over the flagged path, held up her lips to 
 be kissed by the three musketeers. Ortlieris 
 wiped his mouth with the back of his hand 
 and swore sentimentally ; Learoyd turned 
 pink ; and the two Avalked away together.
 
 108 MUL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 The Yorkshireman lifted up his voice and 
 gave in thunder the chorus of " The Sentry 
 Box," while Ortheris piped at his side. 
 
 " 'Bin to a bloomin' sing-song, you two ?" 
 said the artilleryman, who Avas taking his 
 cartridge down to the iSIorning Gun. " You're 
 overmerry for these dashed days." 
 
 " I bid ye take care o' the brat, said he, 
 For it comes of a noble race," 
 
 bellowed Learoyd. The voices died out in 
 the swimming-bath, 
 
 " Oh, Terence !" I said, dropping into Mul- 
 vaney's speech, when we were aloiie, *' it's 
 you that have tlie tongue !" 
 
 He looked at me wearily ; his eyes were 
 sunk in his head, and his face was drawn 
 and white. "Eyah!" said he; "I've blan- 
 dandhered thim through the night somehow, 
 but can thim that helps others help thim- 
 selves? Answer me that, sorr !" 
 
 And over the bastions of Fort Amara 
 broke the pitiless day.
 
 BLACK JACK. 
 
 To the wake av Tim O'Hara 
 
 Came company, 
 All St. Patrick's Alley 
 
 Was there to see. 
 
 The Wake of Tim CHara. 
 
 There is a writer called Mr. Robert Louis 
 Stevenson, who makes most delicate inlay- 
 work in black and white, and files out to 
 the fraction of a hair. He has written a 
 story about a suicide club, wherein men 
 gambled for death, because other amuse- 
 ments did not bite sufficiently. My friend 
 Private Mulvaney knows nothing about Mr. 
 Stevenson, but he once assisted informally 
 at a meeting of almost such a club as that 
 gentleman has described : and his words are 
 true. 
 
 As the Three Musketeers share their silver, 
 tobacco, and liquor together, as they protect 
 each other in barracks or camp, and as they 
 rejoice together over the joy of one, so do 
 they divide their sorrows. When Ortheris's 
 irrepressible tongue has brought him into 
 cells for a season, or Learoyd has run amuck 
 through his kit and accouterments, or Mul- 
 vaney has indulged in strong waters, and 
 under their influence reproved his com- 
 
 (109)
 
 110 MUL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 manding officer, you can see the trouble in 
 the faces of the untouched twain. And the 
 rest of the regiment know that comment or 
 jest is unsafe. Generally the three avoid 
 orderly-room and the corner shop that fol- 
 lows, leaving both to the young bloods who 
 have not sown their wild oats; but there are 
 occasions . . . For instance, Ortheris was 
 sitting on the new draw-bridge of the main 
 gate of Fort Amara, with his hands in his 
 pockets and his pipe, bowl down, in his 
 mouth. Learoyd was lying at full length 
 on the turf of the glacis, kicking his heels 
 in the air, and I came round the corner and 
 asked for Mulvaney. 
 
 Ortheris spat into the ditch and shook his 
 head. "No good seein' 'im now," said Or- 
 theris; 'e's a bloomin' camel. Listen." 
 
 I heard on the flags of the veranda oppo- 
 site to the cells, which are close to the guard- 
 room, a measured step that I could have 
 identified in the tramp of an army. There 
 were twenty paces crescendo, a pause, and 
 then twenty diiuinuendo. 
 
 " That's 'im," said Ortheris ; "my Gawd, 
 that's 'im! All for a bloomin' button you 
 could see your face in an' a bit o' lip that a 
 bloomin' harkangel would 'a' guv back." 
 
 Mulvaney was doing pack-drill — was com- 
 pelled, that is to say, to walk up and down 
 for certain hours in full marching order, 
 with rifle, bayonet, ammunition, knapsack, 
 and overcoat. And his offense was being
 
 BLACKJACK. Ill 
 
 dirty on parade ! I nearly fell into the fort 
 ditch with astonishment and wrath, for 
 Mulvaney is the smartest man that ever 
 mounted guard, and would as soon think 
 of turning out uncleanly as of dispensing 
 with his trousers. 
 
 " Who was the sergeant that checked 
 him?" I asked. 
 
 " Mullins, o' course," said Ortheris. 
 •'There ain't no other man would whip 'im 
 on the peg so. But Mullins ain't a man. 
 'E's a dirty little pig-scraper, that's wot 'e 
 is." 
 
 " What did Mulvaney say ? He's not the 
 make of man to take that quietly." 
 
 " Said ! Bin better for 'im if 'e'd shut 'is 
 mouth. Lord, 'ow we laughed ! ' Sarjint,' 
 'e sez, *ye say I'm dirty. Well,' sez 'e, 
 ' when your wife lets you blow your own 
 nose for yourself, perhaps you'll know what 
 dirt is. You're him perfectly eddicated, sar- 
 jint,' sez 'e, an' then we fell in. But after 
 p'rade, 'e was up an' Mullins was swearin' 
 'imself black in the face at ord'ly-room that 
 IMulvaney 'ad called 'im a swine an' Lord 
 knows wot all. You know Mullins. 'E'll 
 'ave 'is 'ead broke in one o' these days. 
 'E's too big a bloomin' liar for ord'nary con- 
 sumption. ' Three hours' can an' kit,' sez 
 the colonel ; * not for bein' dirty on p'rade, 
 but for 'avin' said somethin'to Mullins, tho' 
 I do not believe,' sez 'e, ' you said wot 'e said 
 you said.' An' Mulvaney fell away sayin'
 
 112 MUL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 notbin'. You know 'e never speaks to the 
 colonel for fear o' gettin' 'imself fresh 
 copped." 
 
 MuUins, a very young and ver}^ much 
 married sergeant, whose manners were 
 partly the result of innate depravity and 
 partly of imperfectly digested board school, 
 came over the bridge, and most rudely asked 
 Ortheris what he was doina:. 
 
 " Me ?" said Ortheris. " Ow ! I'm waitin' 
 for my c'mission. 'Seed it comin' along 
 
 yit?"' 
 
 Mullins turned purple and ])assed on. 
 There was the sound of a gentle chuckle 
 from the glacis where Learoyd lay. 
 
 " 'E expects to get his c'mission some 
 day," explained Ortheris; "Gawd 'elp the 
 mess that 'ave to put their 'ands into the 
 same kiddy as 'im! Wot time d'you make 
 it, sir ? Fower ! JNIulvaney '11 be out in 'arf 
 an hour. You don't want to buy a dorg, 
 sir, do you ? A pup you can trust — 'arf 
 Rampore by the colonel's grey'ound." 
 
 " Ortheris," I answered, sternly, for I knew 
 what was in his mind, " do you mean to say 
 that—" 
 
 " I didn't mean to arx money o' you, 
 any'ow," said Ortheris; "I'd 'a' sold you 
 the dorg good an' cheap, but — but— I know 
 Mulvaney '11 want somethin' after we've 
 walked 'im orf, an' I ain't got notbin', nor 'e 
 'asn't neither. I'd sooner sell you the dorg, 
 sir. 'S trewth I would!"
 
 BLACK JACK. 113 
 
 A shadow fell on the draw-bridge, and 
 Ortheris began to rise into the air, lifted by 
 a huge hand upon his collar. 
 
 " On3'thing but t' braass," said Lenroyd, 
 quietly, as he held the Londoner over the 
 ditch. " Onything but t' braass, Orth'ris, 
 ma son ! Ah've got one rupee eight annas 
 of ma own." He showed two coins, and re- 
 placed Ortheris on the draw-bridge rail. 
 
 "Very good," I said; "where are you 
 going to?" 
 
 "Goin' to walk 'im orf wen 'e comes out — • 
 two miles or three or fower," said Ortheris. 
 
 The footsteps within ceased. I heard the 
 dull thud of a knapsack falling on a bed- 
 stead, followed by the rattle of arms. Ten 
 minutes later, Mulvaney, faultlessly attired, 
 his lips compressed and his face as black as 
 a thunderstorm, stalked into the sunshine 
 on the draw-bridge. Learoyd and Ortheris 
 sprung from my side and closed in upon 
 him, both leaning toward as horses lean 
 upon the pole. In an instant they had dis- 
 appeared down the sunken road to the can- 
 tonments, and I was left alone. Mulvaney 
 had not seen fit to recognize me; wherefore, 
 I felt that his trouble must be heavy upon 
 him. 
 
 I climbed one of the bastions and watched 
 the figures of the Three Musketeers grow 
 smaller and smaller across the plain. Thej 
 were walking as fast as they could put foot 
 to the ground, and their heads were bowed.
 
 114 MUL VAXEY STORIES. 
 
 The}^ fetched a great compass round the pa- 
 rade-ground, skirted the cavalry lines, and 
 vanished in the belt of trees that fringes the 
 low land by the river. 
 
 I followed slowly, and sighted them — 
 dusty, sweating, but still keeping up their 
 long, swinging tramp — on the river-bank. 
 They crashed through the forest reserve, 
 headed toward the bridge of boats, and pres- 
 ently established themselves on the brow of 
 the pontoons. I rode cautiously till I saw 
 three puffs of white smoke rise and die out 
 in the clear evening air, and knew that peace 
 had come again. At the bridge-head they 
 waved me forward with gestures of welcome. 
 
 "Tie up your 'orse," shouted Ortheris, 
 '*an' come on, sir. We're all goin' 'ome in 
 this 'ere bloomin' boat." 
 
 From the bridge-head to the forest offi- 
 cers' bungalow is but a step. The mess-man 
 "was there, and would see that a man held 
 my horse. Did the sahib require aught 
 else — a peg, or beer ? Ritchie Sahib had left 
 half a dozen bottles of the latter, but since 
 the sahib was a friend of Ritchie Sahib, and 
 he, the mess-man, was a poor man — 
 
 I gave my order quietly, and returned to 
 the bridge. Mulvaney had taken off his 
 boots, and was dabbling his toes in the 
 water ; Learoyd was lying on his back on 
 the poncoon; and Ortheris was pretending 
 to row with a big bamboo. 
 
 '*I'm an ould fool," said Mulvaney, re-
 
 BLACK JACK. 115 
 
 flectively, " dhraggin' you two out here be- 
 kaze I was undher the bhick dog — sulkin' 
 Hke a child. Me that was soldierin' when 
 MulUns, an' be damned to him, was 
 shquealin'on a counterpin for foive shillin's 
 a week, an' that not paid ! Bhoys, I've took 
 you foive miles out av natural pevarsit}'. 
 Phew!" 
 
 " Wot's the odds as long as you're 'appy ?" 
 said Ortheris, applying himself afresh to the 
 bamboo. " As well 'ere as anywhere else." 
 
 Learoyd held up a rupee and an eight 
 anna bit, and shook his head sorrowfully. 
 " Five mile from t' canteen, all along o' 
 Mulvaney's blaasted pride." 
 
 " I know ut," said Mulvaney, penitently. 
 "Why will ye come wid me ? An' yet 1 wud 
 be mortial sorry if ye did not — any time — 
 though I am ould enough to know betther. 
 But I will do penance. I will take a dhrink 
 av water." 
 
 Ortheris squeaked shrilly. The butler of 
 the forest bungalow was standing near the 
 railings with a basket, uncertain how to 
 clamber down to the pontoon. 
 
 " Might 'a' know'd you'd 'a' got liquor out 
 o' a bloomin' desert, sir," said Ortheris, grace- 
 fully, to me. Then to the mess-man : " Easy 
 with them there bottles. They're worth 
 their weight in gold. Jock, ye long-armed 
 beggar, get out o' that an' hike 'em down." 
 
 Learoyd had the basket on the pontoon in 
 an instant, and the Three Musketeers gath-
 
 116 2IVLVAXEy STORIES. 
 
 ered round it with dry lips. They drank 
 my health in due and ancient form, and 
 thereafter tobacco tasted sweeter than 
 ever. They absorbed all the beer, and dis- 
 posed themselves in picturesque attitudes to 
 admire the setting sun — no man speaking 
 for awhile. 
 
 Mulvaney's head dropped upon his chest, 
 and we thought that he was asleep. 
 
 " What on earth did you come so far for ?" 
 I wliispered to Ortheris. 
 
 " To walk 'im orf, o' course. When e'es 
 been checked we alius walks 'im orf. 'E 
 ain't fit to he spoke to those times — nor 'e 
 ain't fit to leave alone neither. So we takes 
 'im till 'e is." 
 
 Mulvaney raised his head, and stared 
 straight into the sunset. " I had my rifle," 
 said he, dreamily, " an' I had my bay'nit, 
 an' Mullins came round the corner, an' he 
 looked in my face an' grinned dishpiteful. 
 ' You can't bl(5w your own nose,' said he. 
 Now I can't tell fwhat Mullins's expayrience 
 may ha' been, but, Mother av God, he was 
 nearer to his death that minut' than I have 
 iver been to mine— an' that's less than the 
 thicknuss av a hair!" 
 
 " Yes," said Ortheris, calmly, " you'd look 
 fine with all your })uttons took orf, an' the 
 band in front o' you, walkin' roun' slow 
 time. We're both front-rank men, me an' 
 Jock, when the rig'ment's in hollow square, 
 Bloomin' fine you'd look. ' The Lord giveth
 
 BLACK JACK. 117 
 
 an' the Lord taketh awai — Heasy with 
 that there drop ! Blessed be the naime o' 
 the Lord !'" He gulped in a quiet and sug- 
 gestive fashion. 
 
 "Mullins! Wot'sMulIins?"said Learoyd, 
 slowly. "Ah'd take a coonipny o' Mul- 
 linses — ma hand behind me. Sitha, Mul- 
 vaney, dunnat be a fool." 
 
 " You were not checked for fwat you did 
 not do, an' made a mock av afther. 'Twas 
 for less than that the Tyrone wud ha' sent 
 O'Hara to hell, instid av lettin' him go by 
 his own choosin' whin Rafferty shot him," 
 retorted Mulvaney. 
 
 " And who stopped the Tvrone from doing 
 it?" I asked. 
 
 "That ould fool who's sorry he didn't 
 stick the pig Mullins." His head dropped 
 again. When he raised it he shivered and 
 put his hand on the shoulders of his two 
 companions. 
 
 ''Ye've Avalked the divil out av me, 
 bhoys," said he. 
 
 Ortheris shot out the red-hot dottel of his 
 pipe on the back of the hairy fist. " They 
 say e'll's 'otter than that," said he, as Mulva- 
 ney swore aloud. " You be warned so. 
 Look yonder!" — he pointed across the river 
 to a ruined temple — "Me an' you an' 'im" 
 — he indicated me by a jerk of his head — 
 " was there one day when Hi made a bloom- 
 in' show o' myself. You an' 'im stopped 
 me doin' such — an' Hi was on'v wishful for
 
 118 MUL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 to desert. You are makin' a bigger bloomin' 
 show o' yourself now." 
 
 "Don't mind him, Mulvaney," I said; 
 " Dinah Shadd won't let you hang j'ourself 
 yet awhile, and you don't intend to try it 
 either. Let's hear about the Tyrone and 
 O'Hara. Rafferty shot him for fooling with 
 his wife. What happened before that?" 
 
 "There's no fool like an ould fool. You 
 know you can do anythin' with me whin 
 I'm talkin'. Did I say I wud like to cut 
 Mullins's liver out? I deny the imputa- 
 shin, for fear that Orth'ris here wud report 
 me — Ah ! You wud tip me into the river, 
 wud you? Sit quiet, little man. Any 
 ways, Mullins is not worth the trouble av 
 an extry p'rade, an' I will trate him wid 
 outrajis contimpt. The Tyrone an' O'Hara! 
 O'Hara an' the Tyrone, begad ! Ould days 
 are hard to bring back into the mouth, but 
 they're always inside the head." 
 
 Followed a long pause. 
 
 " O'Hara was a divil. Though I saved 
 him, for the honor av the rig'mint, from his 
 death that time, I say it now. He was a 
 divil— a long, bould, black-haired divil." 
 
 " Which way ?" asked Ortheris. 
 
 " Women." 
 
 " Then I know another." 
 
 "Not more than in reason, if you mane 
 me, ye warped walkin'-shtick. I have been 
 young, an' for why should I not have tuk 
 Tvhat I cud? Did I iver, whin I was cor-
 
 BLACK JACK. 119 
 
 p'ril, use the rise uv me rank — wan step an^ 
 that taken away, more's the sorrow an' the 
 fault av me ! — to prosecute a nefarious in- 
 thrigue, as O'Hara did ? Did I, whin I was 
 corp'ril, lay me spite upon a man an' make 
 his life a dog's life from day to day ? Did 
 I lie, as O'Hara lied, till the young wans in 
 the Tyrone turned white wid the fear av the 
 judgmint av God killin' thim all in a lump, 
 as ut killed the woman at Devizes? I did 
 not ! I have sinned me sins an' I have 
 made me confesshin', an' Father Victor 
 knows the worst av me. O'Hara was tuk, 
 before he cud spake, on RafFerty's door-step, 
 an' no man knows the worst av him. But 
 this much I know ! 
 
 " The Tyrone was recruited any fashion 
 in the ould days. A draf from Connemara 
 — a draf from Portsmouth — a draf from 
 Kerry, an' that was a blazin' bad draf — 
 here, there an' iverywhere — but the large 
 av thim was Oirish — Black Oirish. Now 
 there are Oirish an' Oirish. The good are 
 good as the best, but the bad are wurrst than 
 the wurrst. 'Tis this way. They clog to- 
 gether in pieces as fast as thieves, an' no 
 wan knows fwhat they will do till wan turns 
 informer an' the gang is bruk. But ut 
 begins again, a day later, meetin' in holes 
 an' corners an' swearin' bloody oaths an'' 
 shtickin' a man in the back an' runnin' 
 away, an' thin waitin' for the blood-money 
 on the reward papers — to see if it's worth
 
 120 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 enough. Those are the Black Oirish, an' 
 'tis they that bring dishgrace upon the name 
 av Oireland, an' thim I wud kill — as I nearly- 
 killed wan wanst. 
 
 " But to reshume. Me room — 'twas be- 
 fore I was married — was wid twelve av the 
 scum av the earth — the pickin's av the gutter 
 — mane men that wud neither laugh nor talk 
 nor yet get dhrunk as a man shud. They 
 thried some av their dog thricks on me, but 
 I dhrew a line round me cot, an' the man 
 that thransgressed ut wint into hospital for 
 three days good. 
 
 " O'Hara had put his spite on the room — ■ 
 he was my color-sarjint — an' nuthin' cud we 
 do to plaze him. I was younger than I am 
 now, an' I tuk what I got in the w'ay av 
 dressin' down an' punishmint-dhrill wid 
 me tongue in me cheek. But it was dif- 
 f'rint wid the others, an ov-hy I can not say, 
 excipt that some men aie borrun mane an' 
 go to dhirty murdher where a fist is more 
 than enough. Afther a whoile, they changed 
 their chune to me an' was desp'rit frien'ly — 
 all twelve av thim cursin' O'Hara in chorus. 
 
 '' ' Eyah,' sez I, ' O'Kara's a divil and I'm 
 not for denyin' ut, but is he the only man in 
 the wurruld? Let him go. He'll get tired 
 av findin' our kit foul an' our 'couterments 
 onproperly kep'.' 
 
 '" We will not let him go,' sez they. 
 
 " ' Thin take him,' sez I, ' an' a dashed poor 
 yield you will get for your throuble.'
 
 BLACKJACK. VZl 
 
 " ' Is he not misconductin' himself wid 
 SHmray's wife?' sez another. 
 
 "'She's common to the rig'mint,' sez I. 
 *Fwhat has made ye this partic'kir on a 
 suddint?' 
 
 " ' Has he not put his spite on the roomful 
 av us ? Can we do anythin' that he will not 
 check us for?' sez another. 
 
 " ' That's thrue,' sez I. 
 
 "' Will ye not help us to do aught,' sez an- 
 other — ' a big bould man like you?' 
 
 "'I will break his head upon his shoul- 
 thers av he puts hand on me,' sez I. ' I will 
 give him the lie av he says that I'm dhirty, 
 an' I wud not mind duckin' him in the ar- 
 tillery troughs if ut was not that I'm thryin' 
 for me shtripes.' 
 
 "'Is that all ye will do?' sez another. 
 ' Have ye no more spunk than that, ye 
 blood-dhrawn calf?' 
 
 " ' Blood-dhrawn I may be,' sez I, gettin- 
 back to me cot an' makin' me line round 
 ut; 'but ye know that the man who comes 
 acrost this mark v:i]\ be more blood-dhrawn 
 than me. No man gives me the name in me 
 mouth,' I sez. 'Ondersthand, I will have 
 no part wnd you in anythin' ye do, nor will 
 I raise me fist to me shuperior. Is any wan 
 comin* on ?' sez I. 
 
 " They made no move, tho' I gave thim 
 full time, but stud growlin' an' snarlin' to- 
 gither at wan ind av the room. I tuk up 
 me cap an' wint out to canteen, thinkin' no
 
 122 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 little av mesilf, an' there I grew most onda- 
 cintly clhrunk in my legs. Me head was all 
 reasonable. 
 
 " ' Houligan,' I sez to a man In E Com- 
 p'ny that was by way av bein' a frind av 
 mine, ' I'm overtuk from the belt doAvn. 
 Do you give me the touch av your shoul- 
 ther topresarveme formashunan' march me 
 acrost the ground into the high grass. I'll 
 sleep ut off there,' sez I ; an' Houligan — he's 
 dead now, but good he was while he lasted 
 — walked wid me, givin' me the touch whin 
 I wint wide, ontil we came to the high grass, 
 an', my faith, the sky an' the earth was fiiir 
 rowlin' undher me. I made for where the 
 grass was thickest, an' there I slep' off my 
 liquor wid an aisy conscience. I did not 
 desire to come on books too frequint, me 
 characther havin' been shpotless for the good 
 half av a year. 
 
 " Whin I roused, the dhrink was dyin' out 
 in me, an' I felt as though a she-cat had lit- 
 tered in me mouth. I had not learned to 
 hould me liquor wid comfort in thini days. 
 'Tis little betther I am now. ' I will get 
 Houligan to pour a bucket over me head,' 
 thinks I, an' wud ha' risen, but I heard some 
 wan say : ' Mulvaney can take the blame av 
 ut for the backslidin' hound he is.' 
 
 " ' Oho !' sez I, an' my head rang like a 
 guard-room gong; 'fwhat is the blame that 
 this young man must take to oblige Tim 
 Vulmea?' For 'twas Tim Vulmea that
 
 BLACK JACK. 123 
 
 phpoke. " I turned on me belly an' crawled 
 through the grass, a bit at a time, to where 
 the spache came from. There was the 
 twelve av my room sittin' down in a little 
 patch, the dhry grass wavin' above their 
 heads an' the sin av black murdher in their 
 hearts, I put the stuff aside to get a clear 
 view. 
 
 " ' Fwhat's that?' sez wan man,jumpin* 
 up. 
 
 " ' A dog,' says Vulmea. ' You're a nice 
 hand to this job ! As I said, Mulvaney will 
 take the blame — av ut comes to a pinch.' 
 
 " ' 'Tis harrd to swear a man's life away,' 
 sez a young wan. 
 
 '"thank ye for that,' thinks I. 'Now, 
 fwhat the divil are you paragins conthrivin' 
 against me?' 
 
 " ' 'Tis as easy as dhrinkin' your quart,' 
 sez Vulmea. *At sivin or thereon, O'Hara 
 will come acrost to the married quarters, 
 goin' to call on Slimmy's wife, the swine! 
 Wan av us'U pass the wurrd to the room an' 
 we shtart the divil an' all av a shine — 
 laughin' an' crackin' on an' t'rowin' our 
 boots about. Thin O'Hara will come to 
 give us the ordher to be quiet, the more by 
 token because the room-lam p will be knocked 
 over in the larkin'. He will take the straight 
 road to the ind door where there's the lamp 
 in the veranda, an' that'll bring him clear 
 against the light as he sthands. He will not 
 be able to look into the dhark. Wan av us
 
 124 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 will loose off, an' a close shot ut will be, an' 
 shame to the man that misses. 'Twill be 
 Mulvaney's rifle, she that is at the head av 
 the rack — there's no mistakin' that long- 
 shtocked, cross-eyed bitch even in the 
 dhark.' 
 
 " The thief misnamed me ould firin'-piece 
 out av jealousy — I was pershuaded av that 
 — an' ut made me more angry than all. 
 
 "But Vulmea goes on: ' O'Hara will 
 dhrop, an' by the time the light's lit again 
 there'll be some six av us on the chist av 
 Mulvaney, cryin' murdher an' rape. Mul- 
 vaney's cot is near the ind door, an' the 
 shmokin' rifle will be lyin' undher him 
 whin we've knocked him over. We know, 
 an' all the rig'mint knows, that JNIulvaney 
 has given O'Hara more lip than any man av 
 us. Will there be any doubt at the coort- 
 martial? Wud twelve honust sodger-bhoys 
 swear away the life av a dear, quiet, swate- 
 timpered man such as is Mulvaney — wid 
 his line av pipe-clay roun' his cot, threaten- 
 in' us wid murdher av we overshtepped ut, 
 as we can truthful testify ?' 
 
 " \ Mary, Mother av Mercy !' thinks I to 
 mesilf; ' it is this to have an unruly mimber 
 an' fistes fit to use! Oh, the " sneakin' 
 hounds!' 
 
 " The big dhrops ran down me face, for I 
 was wake wid the liquor an' had not the 
 full av me wits about me. I laid shtill an' 
 heard thim workin' themselves up to swear
 
 BLACKJACK. 125 
 
 me life by tellin' tales av ivry time I had 
 put me mark on wan or another; an' my 
 faith, they was few that was not so dishtin- 
 guished. 'Twas all in the way av fair fight, 
 though, for niver did I raise me hand excipt 
 whin they had provoked me to ut. 
 
 " ' 'Tis all well,' sez wan av thim, ' but 
 who's to do this shootin'?' 
 
 '"Fwhat matther?' sez Vulmea. "Tis 
 Mulvaney will do that — et the coort-martial.' 
 
 "'He will so,' sez the man, 'but whose 
 hand is put to the trigger — in the room ?' 
 
 "'Who'll do ut?' sez Vulmea, lookin' 
 round, but divil a man answered. They 
 began to dishpute till Kiss, that was always 
 playin' Shpoil Five, sez: "Thry the kyardsl' 
 Wid that he opined his jackut an' tuk out 
 the greasy palammers, an' they all fell in 
 wid the notion. 
 
 '" Deal on !' sez Vulmea, wid a big rattlin* 
 oath, 'an' the Black Curse avShielygh come 
 to the man that will not do his duty as the 
 kyards say. Amin !' 
 
 "'Black Jack is the masther,' sez Kiss, 
 dealin'. Black Jack, sorr, I shud expaytiate 
 to you, is the ace of shpades, which from 
 time immimorial has been intimately con- 
 nected with battle, murdher an' suddin 
 death. 
 
 " Wanst Kiss dealt an' there was no sign, 
 but the men was whoit wid the workin's av 
 their sowls. Twice Kiss dealt, an' there was 
 a gray shine on their cheeks like the mess av
 
 126 MUL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 an egg. Three times Kiss dealt an' they 
 was blue. ' Have ye not lost him ?' sez Vul- 
 mea, wipin' the sweat on him. ' Let's ha' 
 done quick !' ' Quick ut is,' sez Kiss, t'rowin' 
 him the kvard ; an' ut fell face on his knee 
 —Black Jack ! 
 
 '' Thin they all cackled wid laughin'. 
 'Duty thrippence,' sez wan av thim, * an' 
 damned cheap at that price !' But I cud 
 see they all dhrew a little away from Vulmea 
 an' lef him sittin' playin' wid the kyard. 
 Vulmea sez no word for awhoile but licked 
 his lips — cat-ways. Thin he threw up his 
 head an' made the men swear by ivry oath 
 known an' unknown to stan' by him not 
 alone in the room but at the coort-martial 
 that was to set on me ! He tould off five av 
 the biggest to stretch me on me cot whin the 
 shot was fired, an' another man he tould 
 off to put out the light, an' j'et another 
 to load me rifle. He wud not do that liim- 
 self ; an' that was quare, for 'twas but a little 
 thing. 
 
 " Thin they swore over again that they 
 wud not bethray wan another, an' crep' out 
 av the grass in diff'rint ways, two be two. 
 A mercy ut was that they did not come on 
 me. I was sick wid fear in the pit av me 
 stummick — sick, sick, sick ! After they was 
 all gone, I wint back to the canteen an' 
 called for a quart to put a thought in me. 
 Vulmea was there, dhrinkin' heavy, an' po- 
 liteful to me beyond reason. ' Fwhat will I
 
 BLACKJACK. 127 
 
 do — fwhat will I do?' thinks I to mesilf 
 whin Vulmea wint away. 
 
 " Prisintly the arm'rer sarjint comes in 
 stiffin' an' crackin' on, not pleased wid any 
 wan, bekaze the Martini-Henri bein' new to 
 the rig'niint in those days we used to play 
 the mischief wid her arrangemints. 'Twas 
 a long time before I cud get out av the way 
 av thryin' to pull the back-sight an' turnin' 
 her over afther firin' — as if she was a Snider. 
 
 "'Fwhat tailor-men do they give me to 
 work wid ?' sez the arm'rer sarjint. ' Here's 
 Hogan, his nose flat as a table, laid by for a 
 week, an' ivry comp'ny sendin' their arrums 
 in knocked to small shivreens.' 
 
 "'Fwhat's wrong wid Hogan, sarjint?' 
 sez I. 
 
 '"Wrong!' sez the arm'rer sarjint; *I 
 showed him, as though I had been his 
 mother, the way avshtrippin' a 'Tini, an' he 
 shtrup her clane an' aisy. I towld him to 
 put her to again an' fire a blank into the 
 blow-pit to show how the dirt hung on the 
 groovin'. He did that, but he did not put 
 in the pin av the fallin' block, an' av coorse 
 whin he fired he was strook by the block 
 jumpin' clear. Well for him 'twas but a 
 blank — a full charge wud ha' cut his oi 
 out.' 
 
 " I looked a trifle wiser than a boiled 
 sheep's head. 'How's that, sarjint?' sez I. 
 
 *' ' This way, ye blundherin' man, an' don't 
 be doin' ut,' sez he. Wid that he shows me
 
 128 3IULVAXEY f^TORIES. 
 
 a Waster action — the breech av her all cut 
 away to show the inside — an' so plazcd was 
 he to grumble that he dimonstrated fwhat 
 Hogan had done twioe over. ' An' that comes 
 av not knowin' the wepping you're purvided 
 wid,' sez he. 
 
 '"Thank ye, sarjint,' sez I; ' I will come 
 to you again for further informashun. 
 
 '"Ye will not,' sez he. ' Kape your 
 clanin'-rod away from the breech-pin or you 
 will get into throuble.' 
 
 "I wint outside an' I could ha' danced 
 wid delight for the grandeur av ut. ' They 
 will load me rifle, good luck to thim, whoile 
 I'm away,' thinks I, an' back I wint to the 
 canteen to give them their clear chanst. 
 
 "The canteen was fillin' wid men at the 
 ind av the day. I made feign to be far gone 
 in dhrink, an', wan by wan, all my roomful 
 came in wid Vulmea. I wint away, walkin' 
 thick an' heavy, but not so thick an' heavy 
 that any wan cud ha' tuk me. Sure an' 
 thrue, there was a kyartridge gone from my 
 pouch an' lyin' snug in me rifle. I was hot 
 wid rage ag'inst thim all, an' I worried the 
 bullet out wid me teeth as faf^t as I cud, 
 the room bein' empty. Then I tuk me boot 
 an' the clanin'-rod an' knocked out the ]iin 
 av the fallin'-block. Oh, 'twas music whin 
 that pin rowled on the flure! I put ut into 
 me pouch an' stuck a dab av dirt on the 
 holes in the plate, puttin' the fallin'-block 
 back. ' That'll do your business, Vulmea.
 
 BLACKJACK. 129 
 
 sez I, lyin' eas}" on the cot. * Come an' sit 
 on me chest the whole room av you, an' I 
 will take you to me bosom for the biggest 
 divils that iver cheated halter. I wud have 
 no mercy on Vulmea. His oi or his life — 
 little I cared ! 
 
 " At dusk they came back, the twelve av 
 thim, an' they had all been dhrinkin'. I 
 was shammin' sleep on tlie cot. Wan man 
 wint outside on the veranda. Whin he 
 whistled they began to rage roun' the room 
 an' carry on treraenjus. But I niver want 
 to hear men laugh as they did — skylarkin' 
 too! 'Twas like mad jackals. 
 
 "'Shtop that blasted noise!' sez O'Hara 
 in the dark, an' pop goes the room lamp. 
 I cud hear O'Hara runnin' up an' the rat- 
 tlin' av my rifle in the rack an' the men 
 breathin' heavy as they stud roun' me cot. 
 I cud see O'Hara in the light avthe veranda 
 lamp, an' thin I heard the crack av me rifle. 
 She cried loud, poor darlint, bein' mishan- 
 dled. Next minut five men were houldin" 
 me down. 'Go easv,' I sez; ' fwhat's ut alt 
 about?' 
 
 ''Thin Vulmea, on the flure, raised a 
 howl you cud hear from wan ind av con- 
 tonmints to the ither. ' I'm dead, I'm' 
 butchered, I'm blind !' sez he. 'Saints have 
 mercy on me sinful sowl ! Sind for Father 
 Constant! Oh, sind for Father Constant 
 an' let me go clean !' By that I knew he- 
 was not dead as I cud ha' wished. 
 9
 
 130 Ml'LVAXEV STORIES. 
 
 " O'Hara picks up the lamp in the ve- 
 randa wid a hand as stiddy as a rest. 
 ' Fwhat damned dog's thrick is this av 
 yours?' sez he, an' turns the light on Tim 
 Vuhnea that was shwimmin' in blood from 
 top to toe. The fiillin'-block had sprung 
 free behin' a full charge av powther — good 
 care I tuk to bite down the brass afther 
 takin' out the bullet that there might be 
 somethin' to give ut full worth — an' had cut 
 Tim from the lip to the corner av the right 
 ■eye, lavin' the eyelid in tatthers, an' so up 
 an' along by the forehead to the hair. 'Twas 
 more av a rakin' plow, if you will ondher- 
 .stand, than a clean cut; an' niver did I see 
 a man bleed as Vulniea did. The dhrink 
 an' the stew that he was in pumped the 
 blood strong. The minutthemen sittin' on 
 me chist heard O'Hara spakin' they scat- 
 "thered each wan to his cot, an' cried out 
 very politeful: ' Fwhat is ut, sarjint?' 
 
 '" Fwhat is ut!' sez O'Hara, shakin' Tim. 
 * Well an' good do you know fwhat ut is, ye 
 skulkin' ditch-lurkin' dogs! Get a doolie, 
 an' take this whimperin' scut away. There 
 will be more heard av ut than any av you 
 will care for.' 
 
 "Vulmea sat up rockin' his head in his 
 hand an' moanin' for Father Constant. 
 
 " ' Be done !' sez O'Hara, dhraggin' him up 
 by the hair. ' You're none so dead that you 
 cannot go fifteen years for thryin' to shoot 
 me."
 
 BLACKJACK. 131 
 
 " ' I did not, ' sez Vulmea ; I was shootin' 
 mesilf.' 
 
 " ' That's quare,' sez O'Hara, ' for the front 
 av myjackut is black wid your powther.' 
 He tuk up the rifle that was still warm an* 
 began to laugh. ' I'll make your life hell 
 to you,' sez he, 'for attempted murdher an' 
 kapin' your rifle onproperly. You'll be 
 hanged first, an' thin put undher stoppages 
 for four fifteen. The rifle's done for,' sez he. 
 
 " ' Why, 'tis my rifle !" sez I, comin' up to 
 look ; ' Vulmea, ye divil, fwhat were you 
 doin' wid her — answer me that?' 
 
 " ' Lave me alone,' sez Vulmea ; ' I'm 
 dyin' !' 
 
 " ' I'll wait till you're betther,' sez I, 'an' 
 thin we two will talk it out umbrageous.' 
 
 "O'Hara pitched Tim into the doolie, 
 none too tinder, but all the bhoys kep' by 
 their cots, which was not the sign av inno- 
 cint men. I was huntin' ivry where for me 
 fallin'-block, but not findin' ut at all. I 
 niver found ut. 
 
 '"Now fwhat will I do?' sez O'Hara, 
 swinging the veranda light in his hand an' 
 lookin' down the room. I had hate and 
 contimpt av O'Hara, an' I have now, dead 
 tho'he is, but, for all that, will I say he was 
 a brave man. He is baskin' in purgathory 
 this tide, but I wish he cud hear that, whin 
 he stud lookin' down the room an' the bhoys 
 shivered before the oi av him, I knew him 
 for a brave man an' I liked him so.
 
 132 MUL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 " ' Fwhat will I do?' sez O'Hara ag'in, an* 
 we heard the voice av a woman low and sof 
 in the veranda. 'Twas Slimmy's wife, come 
 over at the shot, sittin' on wan av the 
 benches an' scarce able to walk. 
 
 " ' Oh, Dennv — Denny dear,' sez she, ' have 
 they kilt you ?' 
 
 " O'Hara looked down the room again an' 
 showed his teeth to the gum. Then he spat 
 on the flu re. 
 
 " ' You're not worth ut,' sez he. ' Light 
 that lamp, ye dogs,' an' wid that he turned 
 away, an' I saw him walkin' off wid Slim- 
 my's wife, she thryin' to wipe off the poW' 
 ther-black on the front av his jackut wid 
 her handkerchief. ' A brave man you are,* 
 thinks I — ' a brave man an' a bad woman,' 
 
 " No wan said a word for a time. They 
 was all ashamed, past spache. 
 
 " ' Fwhat d'you think he will do ?' sez wan 
 av thim at last. ' He knows we're rJl in ut.* 
 
 " ' Are we so ?' sez I from me cot. ' The 
 man that sez that to me will be hurt. I do 
 not know,' sez I, ' fwhat onderhatid divilmint 
 you have conthrived, bul, by what I've seen 
 I know that you can not commit murdher 
 wid another man's riilfe — such shakin' cow- 
 ards you are. I'm goin' to blape.' I sez, ' an' 
 you can blow me head off \vhoile I lay.' T 
 did not slape, tluugh, foi- n, long time. Can 
 ye wonder? 
 
 " Next morii ihe news was through all xhi, 
 rig'mint, ar.' diere Avap' nothin' that the men
 
 BLACKJACK. 138 
 
 did not tell. O'Hara reports, fair an' 'easy, 
 that Vulmea was come to grief through 
 tamperin' wid his rifle in barricks, all for to 
 show the mechanism. An' by me sowl, he 
 had the impart' nince to say that he -was on 
 the shpot at the time an' cud certify that ut 
 wvas an accidint ! You might ha' knocked 
 me roomful down wid a straw whin they 
 heard that. 'Twas lucky for thim that 
 the bhoys were always thryin' to find out 
 how the new rifle was made, an' a lot av 
 thim had come up for easin' the pull by 
 shtickin' bits of grass an' such in the part 
 av the lock that showed near the thrigger. 
 The first issues of the 'Tinis was not covered 
 in, an' I mesilf have eased the pull av mine 
 time an' ag'in. A light pull is ten points 
 on the range to me. 
 
 '"I will not have this foolishness!' sez 
 the colonel. ' I will twist the tail of Vul- 
 mea!' sez he; but whin he saw him, all 
 tied up an' groanin' in hospital, he changed 
 his mind. ' Make him an early convales- 
 cint,' sez he to the doctor, an' Vulmea was 
 made so for a warnin'. His big bloody 
 bandages an' face puckered up to wan side 
 did more to kape the bhoys from messin^ 
 W'id the insides av their rifles than any pun- 
 ishment. 
 
 "O'Hara gave no reason for fwhat he'd 
 said, an' all my roomful were too glad to in- 
 quire tho' he put his spite upon thim more 
 wearin' than before. Wan day, howiver, he
 
 134 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 tuk me apart very polite, for he cud be that 
 at the choosin', 
 
 "'You're a good sodger, tho' you're a 
 damned insolint man,' sez he, 
 
 " ' Fair words, sarjint,' sez I, ' or I may be 
 insolint ag'in.' 
 
 " ' 'Tis not like you,' sez he, ' to Lave your 
 ("ifle in the rack widout the breech-pin, for 
 tvidout the breech-pin she was whin Vulmea 
 fired. I should ha' found the break av ut 
 in the eyes av the holes, else,' he sez. 
 
 "'Sarjint,' sez I, ' fwliat wud your life 
 ha' been worth av the breech-pin had been 
 in place, for, on me sowl, me life wud be 
 worth just as much to me av I towld you 
 whether ut was or was not. Be thankful the 
 bullet was not there,' I sez. 
 
 " ' That's thrue,' sez he, pullin' his mus- 
 tache ; ' but I do not believe that you, for 
 all your lip, was in that business.' 
 
 '"Sarjint," sez I, ' I cud hammer the life 
 out av a man in ten minuts wid my fistes if 
 that man dishpleased me; for I am a good 
 sodger, an' I will be threated as such, an' 
 whoile me fistes are me own they're strong 
 enough for all work I have to do. They do 
 not fly back towards me!' sez I, lookin' him 
 betune the eyes. 
 
 " ' You're a good man,' sez he, lookin' me 
 betune the eyes — an' oh, he was a gran' built 
 man to see — 'you're a good man,' sez he, 
 ' an' I cud wish, for the pure frolic av ut, 
 that I was not a sarjint, or that vou were
 
 BLACK JACK. 135 
 
 not a privit ; an' you will think me no cow- 
 ard whin I say this thing.' 
 
 " ' I do not,' sez I. ' I saw you whin Vul- 
 mea mishandled the rifle. But, sarjint,' I 
 sez, ' take the wurrd from me now, spakin' 
 as man to man wid the shtripes off, tho' 'tis 
 little right I have to talk, me hein' fwhat I 
 am by natur'. This time ye tuk no harm, 
 an' next time ye may not, but, in the ind, 
 so sure as Slimmy's wife came into the ve- 
 randa, so sure will ye take harm — an' bad 
 harm. Have thought, sarjint,' sez I. ' Is 
 ut worth ut ?' 
 
 " ' Ye're a bowld man,' sez he, breathin' 
 harrd. ' A very bowld man. But I am a 
 bowld man tu. Do you go your way, Privit 
 Mulvanev, an' I will go mine.' 
 
 " We had no further spache thin or afther, 
 but, wan by another, he drafted the twelve 
 av my room out into other rooms an' got 
 thim spread among the comp'nies, for they 
 Avas not a good breed to live together, an' the 
 comp'ny orf'cers saw ut. They wud ha' 
 shot me in the night av they had known 
 fwhat I knew ; but they did not. 
 
 " An', in the ind, as I said, O'Hara met 
 his death from Rafferty for foolin' wid his 
 wife. He wint his own way too well — Eyah, 
 too well ! Shtraight to that affair, widout 
 turnin' to the right or to the lef, he wint, 
 an' may the Lord have mercy on his sowl. 
 Amin !" 
 
 " 'Ear ! 'Ear !" said Ortheris, pointing the
 
 136 MULVAyEY STORIES. 
 
 moral with .a wave of his pipe. " An' this is 
 'im 'oo would be a bloomin' Vulmea all for 
 the sake of Mullins an' a bloomin' button ! 
 MuUins never went after a woman in his 
 life. Mrs. Mullins, she saw 'im one day — " 
 
 " Ortheris," I said, hastily, for the ro- 
 mances of Private Ortheris are slightly too 
 daring for publication, "look at the sun. 
 It's a quarter past six!" 
 
 " Oh, Lord ! Three quarters of an hour 
 for five an' a 'arf miles! We'll 'ave to run 
 like Jimmy 0." 
 
 The Three Musketeers clambered on to 
 the bridge, and departed hastily in the di- 
 rection of the cantonment road. Wiien I 
 overtook them I offered them two stirrups 
 and a tail, which they accepted enthusiasti- 
 cally. Ortheris held the tail, and in this 
 manner we trotted steadily through the 
 shadows by the unfrequented road. 
 
 At the turn into the cantonments we heard 
 carriage wheels. It was the colonel's ba- 
 rouche, and in it sat the colonel's wife and 
 daughter. I caught a suppressed chuckle, 
 and my beast sprung forvk'ard with a lighter 
 step. 
 
 The Three Musketeers had vanished into 
 the night.
 
 THE INCARNATION OF KRISHNA 
 MULVANEY. 
 
 Once upon a time, and very far from this 
 land, lived three men who loved each other 
 so greatly that neither man nor woman 
 could come between them. They were in 
 no sense refined, not to be admitted to the 
 outer door-mats of decent folk, because they 
 happened to be private soldiers in her ma- 
 jesty's army; and private soldiers of that 
 employ have small time for self-cuUure. 
 Their duty is to keep themselves and their 
 accoutrements specklessly clean, to refrain 
 from getting drunk more often than is nec- 
 essary, to obey their superiors, and to pray 
 for a war. All these things my friends ac- 
 complished ; and of their own motion threw 
 in some fighting work for which the army 
 regulations did not call. Their fate sent 
 them to serve in India, which is not a golden 
 country, though poets have sung otherw'ise. 
 There men die witli great swiftness, and 
 those who live suffer many and curious 
 things. I do not think that my friends con- 
 cerned themselves much with the social or 
 political aspects of the East. They attended 
 a not unimportant war on the northern 
 frontier, another one on our western bound- 
 
 (137)
 
 138 MULVANEY STOEIES. 
 
 an', and a third in Upper Burma. Then 
 their regiment sat still to recruit, and the 
 boundless monotony of cantonment life was 
 their portion. They were drilled morning 
 and evening on the same dusty parade- 
 ground. They wandered up and down the 
 same stretch of dusty white road, attended 
 the same church and the same grog-shop, 
 and slept in the same lime- washed barn of a 
 barrack for two long years. There was Mul- 
 vaney, the father in the craft, who had served 
 with various regiments from Bermuda to 
 Halifax, old in war, scarred, reckless, re- 
 sourceful, and in his pious hours an un- 
 equalled soldier. To him turned for help 
 and comfort six and a half feet of slow-mov- 
 ing, heavy-footed Yorkshireman, born on the 
 wolds, bred in the dales, and educated 
 chiefly among the carriers' carts at the back 
 of York railway station. His name was 
 Learoyd, and his chief virtue an unmiti- 
 gated patience which helped him to win. 
 fights. How Ortheris, a fox-terrier of a 
 cockney, ever came to be one of the trio, is 
 a mystery which even to-day I can not ex- 
 plain. " There was always three av us," 
 Mulvaney used to sa3\ "An' by the grace 
 av God, so long as our service lasts, three av 
 us they'll always be. 'Tis betther so.'' 
 
 They desired no companionshi]^ beyond 
 their own, and evil it was for any man of 
 the regiment who attempted dispute with 
 them. Phvsical argument was out of the
 
 INCAENA TION OF KRISUNA MVL VANEY. 139 
 
 question as regarded Mulvaney and the 
 Yorkshireman ; and assault on Ortheris 
 meant a combined attack from these twain 
 — a business which no five men were anx- 
 ious to have on their hands. Tlierefore 
 they flourished, sharing tlieir drinks, their 
 tobacco, and their money; good luck and 
 evil ; battle and tlie chances of death ; life 
 and the chances of happiness from Calicut 
 in southern, to Peshawur in northern India. 
 Through no merit of my own it was my 
 good fortune to be in a measure admitted to 
 their friendship — frankly by IMulvaney from 
 the beginning, sullenly and with reluctance 
 by Learoyd, and suspiciously by Ortheris, 
 who held to it that no man not in the army 
 could fraternize with a red-coat. "Like to 
 like,"' said he. " I'm a bloomin' sodger — 
 he's a Ijloomin' civilian. 'Tain't natural — 
 that's all." 
 
 But that was not all. They thawed pro- 
 gressively, and in the thawing told me more 
 of their lives and adventures than I am likely 
 to find room for here. 
 
 Omitting all else, this tale begins with the 
 Lamentable Thirst that was at the beginning 
 of First Causes. Never was such a thirst — 
 Mulvaney told me so. They kicked against 
 their compulsory virtue, but the attempt was 
 only successful in the case of Ortheris. He, 
 whose talents were many, went forth into 
 the highways and stole a dog from a " civil- 
 ian " — videlicet^ some one, he knew not who,
 
 140 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 not in the army. Now that civilian was but 
 newly connected by marriage with the col- 
 onel of the regiment, and outcry was made 
 from quarters least anticipated by Ortheris, 
 and in the end he was forced, lest a worse 
 thing should happen, to dispose at ridicu- 
 lously unremunerative rates of as promising 
 a small terrier as ever graced one end of a 
 leading-string. The purchase mone}' was 
 barely sufficient for one small outbreak 
 which led him to the guard-room. He es- 
 caped, however, with nothing worse than a 
 severe reprimand and a few hours of pun- 
 ishment drill. Not for nothing had he ac- 
 quired the reputation of being •' the best 
 soldier of his inches " in the regiment. 
 Mulvaney had taught personal cleanliness 
 and efficiency as the first articles of his com- 
 panions' creed. " A diiirty man," he was 
 used to say, in the speech oif his kind, " goes 
 to clink for a weakness in the knees, an' is 
 coort-martialed for a pair av socks missin'; 
 but a clane man, such as is an ornament to 
 his service — a man whose buttons are gold, 
 whose coat is wax upon him, an' whose 
 'couterments are widout a speck — that man 
 may, spakin' in reason, do fwhat he likes an' 
 dhrink from day to divil. That's the pride 
 av bein' dacint." 
 
 We sat together upon a day, in the shade 
 of a ravine far from the barracks, where a 
 water-course used to run in rainy weather. 
 Behind us was the scrub jungle, in which
 
 INCAENA TIOX OF KRISHNA MVL VANEY. 141 
 
 jackalls, peacocks, the gray wolves of the 
 North-western Provinces, and occasionally a 
 tiger estrayed from Central India, were sup- 
 posed to dwell. In front lay the cantonment, 
 white under a glaring sun, and on either side 
 ran the broad road that led to Delhi. 
 
 It was the scrub that suggested to my 
 mind the wisdom of Mulvaney taking a 
 day's leave and going upon a shooting-tour. 
 The peacock is a holy bird throughout India, 
 and whoso slays one is in danger of being 
 mobbed 1)}' the nearest villagers ; but on the 
 last occasion that INIulvaney had gone forth 
 he had contrived, without in the least of- 
 fending local religious susceptibilities, to re- 
 turn with six beautiful peacock skins which 
 he sold to profit. It seemed just possible 
 then — 
 
 "But fwhat manner ave use is ut to me 
 goin' out widout a dhrink ? The ground's 
 powdher-dhry under-foot, an' ut gets unto 
 the throat fit to kill," wailed Mulvaney, look- 
 ing at me reproachfully. " An' a peacock is 
 not a bird you can catch the tail av onless 
 ye run. Can a man run on wather — an' 
 jungle-wather too?" 
 
 Ortheris had considered the question in 
 all its bearings. He spoke, chewing his 
 pipe-stem meditatively the while: 
 
 " 'Go forth, return in glory, 
 To Clnsium's royal 'ome : 
 An' round tliese bloomin' temples 'ang 
 The bloomin' shields o' Rome.'
 
 142 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 You better go. You ain't like to shoot your- 
 self — not while there's a chanst of liquor. 
 Me an' Learoj'd '11 stay at 'ome an' keep 
 shop — case o' anythin' turnin' up. But you 
 go out with a gas pipe gun an' ketch the 
 little peacockses or somethin'. You kin 
 get one day's leave easy as winkin'. Go 
 along an' get it, an' get j^eacockses or some- 
 thin'." 
 
 "Jock?" said Mulvaney, turning to Lea- 
 royd, who was half asleep under the shadow 
 of the bank. He roused slowly. 
 
 "Sitlia, Mulvaney, go," said he. 
 
 And Mulvaney went; cursing his allies 
 with Irish fluency and barrack room point. 
 
 " Take note," said he, when he had won 
 his holiday, and appeared dressed in his 
 roughest clothes with the only other regi- 
 mental fowling-piece in his hand — " take 
 note, Jock, an' you, Orth'ris, I am goin' in 
 the face av my own will — all for to ])lease 
 you. I misdoubt anythin' will come av per- 
 nicious huntin' afther peacockses in a deso- 
 lit Ian' ; an' I know that I will lie down an' 
 die wid thirrst. Me catch peacockses for you, 
 ye lazy scutts — an' be sacrificed by the 
 peasanthry — Ugh !" 
 
 He waved a huge paw and went away. 
 
 At twilight, long before the ai)pointed 
 hour, he returned empty-handed, much be- 
 grimed with dirt. 
 
 "Peacockses?" queried Ortheris, from the 
 safe rest of a barrack-room table whereon
 
 INCARNA TIOX OF KRISHNA MVL VANEY. 143 
 
 he was sniokin<,^ cross-legged, Learoyd fast 
 asleep on a bench. 
 
 " Jock," said Mulvaney -without answering, 
 as he stirred u]) tiie sleeper. " Jock, can ye 
 fight? Will ye fight?" 
 
 Very slowly the meaning of the words 
 communicated itself to the half-roused man. 
 He understood — and again — what might 
 these things mean ? Mulvaney was shaking 
 him savagely. Meantime the men in the 
 room howled with delight. There was war 
 in the confederacy at last — war and the 
 breaking of bonds. 
 
 Barrack-room etiquette is stringent. On 
 the direct challenge must follow the direct 
 reply. This is more binding than the ties 
 of tried friendship. Once again Mulvaney 
 repeated the question. Learoyd answered 
 by the only means in his power, and so 
 swiftly that the Irishman had barely time to 
 avoid the blow. The laughter around in- 
 creased. Learoyd looked bewildered at his 
 friend — himself as greatly bewildered. Orth- 
 eris dropped from the table because his 
 world was falling. 
 
 "Come outside," said Mulvaney, and as 
 the occupants of the barrack-room prepared 
 joyously .to follow, he turned and said furi- 
 ously : "There will be no fight this night — 
 onless any wan av you is wishful to assist. 
 The man that does, follow on." 
 
 No man moved. The three passed out 
 into the moonlight, Learoyd fumbling with
 
 144 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 the buttons of liis coat. The parade-ground 
 was deserted except for the scurrying jack- 
 als. ]Mulvaney's impetuous rush carried his 
 companions far into the open ere Learoyd 
 attempted to turn round and continue the 
 discussion. 
 
 " Be still now. 'Twas my fault for begin- 
 in' tilings in the middle av an end, Jock. I 
 should ha' comminst wid an explanion ; but 
 Jock, dear, on your sowl are ye fit, think 
 you, for the finest fight that iver was — bet- 
 ther than fightin' me ? Considher before ye 
 answer." 
 
 More than ever puzzled, Learoyd turned 
 round two or three times, felt an arm, kicked 
 tentatively, and answered, " Ah'm fit." He 
 was accustomed to fight blindly at the bid- 
 ding of the superior mind. 
 
 They sat them down, the men looking on 
 from afar, and Mulvaney untiingled himself 
 in mighty words. 
 
 " FoUowin' your fools' scheme I wint out 
 into the thrackless desert beyond the bar- 
 ricks. An' there I met a pious Hindu dhriv- 
 ing' a bullock-kyart. I tuk ut for granted 
 he wud be delighted for to convoy me a 
 piece, an' I jumped in — " 
 
 "You long, lazy, black-haired swine," 
 drawled Ortheris, who would have done the 
 same thing under similar circumstances. 
 
 " 'Twas the height av policy. That nay- 
 gur-man dhruv miles an' miles — as far as the 
 new railway line they're buildin' now back
 
 INCARXA TION OF KRISHNA Al UL VANEY. 145 
 
 av the Tavi River. ' 'Tis a kyart for dliirt 
 only,' say he now an' again, timoreously, to 
 get me out av ut. ' Dhirt I am,' sez I, ' an' 
 the dhryest that you iver kyarted. Dhrive 
 on, me son, an' glory be wid you.' At that 
 I wint to slape, an' took no heed till he 
 pulled up on the embankmint av the line 
 Avhere the coolies were pilin' mud. There 
 was a matther av two thousand coolies on 
 that line — you remimber tiiat. Prisintly a 
 bell rang, an' they throops ofi' to a big pay- 
 shed. ' Where's the white man in charge?' 
 sez I to my kyart-dhriver. ' In the shed,' sez 
 he, ' engaged on a riffle.' * A fwhat?' sez I. 
 ' Riffle,' sez he. ' You take ticket. He take 
 money. You get nothin'.' *Ohol' sez I, 
 'that's fwhat the shuper'or an' cultivated 
 man caMs a raffle, me misbeguided child av 
 darkness an' sin. Lead on to that raffle, 
 though fwhat the mischief 'tis doin' so far 
 away from uts home — which is the charity- 
 bazaar at Christmas, an' the colonel's wife 
 grinnin' behind the tea-table — is more than 
 I know.' Wid that I wint to the shed an' 
 found 'twas pay-day among the coolifs. 
 Their wages was on a table forninst a big, 
 fine, red buck av a man— sivin fut high, 
 four fut wide, an' three fut thick, wid a fist 
 on him like a corn-sack. He was payin' the 
 coolies f[ur an' easy, but he wud ask each 
 man if hewud raffle that month, an'each man 
 sez, ' Yes,' av course. Thin he wud deduct 
 from their wages accordin'. Whin all was 
 10
 
 146 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 paid, he filled an' ould cigar-box full av 
 gun-wads an' scatthered ut among the coo- 
 lies. They did not take much joy av that 
 performance, an' small wondher. A man 
 close to me picks up a black gun-wad an' 
 sings out, 'I have ut.' 'Good may ut do 
 you,' sez I. The coolie wint forward to the 
 big, fine, red man, who threw a cloth off the 
 most sumpshus, jooled, enameled, an' vari- 
 ously bediviled sedan-chair I iversaw." 
 
 "Sedan-chair! Put your 'ead in a bag. 
 That was a palanquin. Don't yer know a 
 palanquin when you see it?" said Ortheris, 
 with great scorn. 
 
 " I chuse to call ut sedan-chair, an' chair 
 ut shall be, little man," continued the Irish- 
 man. " 'Twas a most amazin' chair — all 
 lined wid pink silk an' fitted wid red silk 
 curtains. ' Here ut is,' sez the red man. 
 
 * Here ut is,' sez the coolie, an' he grinned 
 weakly-ways. ' Is ut any use to you ?' sez 
 the red man. ' No,' sez the coolie ; ' I'd like 
 to make a presint av ut to you.' ' I am 
 graciously pleased to accept that same,' sez 
 the red man , ' an' at that all the coolies 
 cried aloud in fwhat was mint for cheerful 
 notes, an' wint back to their diggin', lavin' 
 me alone in the shed. The red man saw 
 me, an' his face grew blue on his big, fat 
 neck. 'Fwhat d'you want here?' sez he. 
 
 * Standin'-room an' no more,' sez I, ' onless 
 it may be fwhat ye niver had, an' that's 
 manners, ye rafflin' ruffian,' for I was not
 
 INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY. 147 
 
 goin' to have the service throd upon. ' Out 
 of this,' sez he. ' I'm in charge av this sec- 
 tion av construction.' ' I'm in charge av 
 mesilf,' sez I, ' an' it's like I will stay awhile. 
 D'ye raffle much in these parts?' ' Fwhat's 
 that to you?' sez he. ' Nothin', sez I. ' but 
 a great dale to you, for begad I'm thinkin' 
 you get the full half av your revenue from 
 that sedan-chair. Is ut always raffled so ?' I 
 sez, an' wid that I wint to a coolie to ask 
 questions. Bhoys, that man's name is 
 Dearsley , an' he's been rafflin' tliat old sedan- 
 chair monthly/ this matter av nine "months. 
 Ivry coolie on the section takes a ticket — or 
 he gives 'em the go — wanst a month on i)ay- 
 day. Ivry coolie that wins ut gives ut back 
 to him, for 'tis too big to carry away, an he'd 
 sack the man that thried to sell ut. That 
 Dearsley has been makin' the rowlin' wealth 
 av Roshus b}' nefarious rafflin'. Think av 
 the burnin' shame to the sufi'erin' coolic-man 
 tliat the army in Injia are bound to protect 
 an' nourish in their bosoms ! Two thousand 
 coolies defrauded wanst a month !" 
 
 " Dom t'coolies. Hast gotten t' cheer, 
 man ?" said Learoyd. 
 
 " Hould on. Havin' onearthed tliis ama- 
 zin' an' stupenjus fraud committed by the 
 man Dearsley, I hild a council av war, he 
 thryin' all the time to sejuce me into a fight 
 wid opprobrious language. That sedan-chair 
 niver belonged by right to any foreman av 
 coolies. 'Tis a king's chair or a quane's.
 
 148 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 There's gold on lit an' silk an' all manner 
 of trapesemints. Bhoys, 'tis not for me to 
 countenance any sort av wrong-doin' — me 
 bein' the ould man — but — any way he has 
 had ut nine months, an' he dare not make 
 throuble av ut was taken from him. Five 
 miles away, or ut may be six — " 
 
 There was a long pause, and the jackals 
 howled merrily. Learoyd bared one arm, 
 and contemplated it in the moonHght. Then 
 he nodded partly to himself and partly to 
 his friends. Ortheris wriggled with sup- 
 pressed emotion. 
 
 " I thought ye wud see the reasonableness 
 av ut," said Mulvaney. " I made bould to 
 say as much to the man before. He was for 
 a direct front attack — fut, horse, an' guns — 
 an' all for nothin,' seein' that I had no 
 thransport to convey the machine away. 
 * I will not argue wid you,' sez I, ' this day. 
 butsubsequintly. Mister Dearsley, me rafflin' 
 jool, we talk ut out lengthways. 'Tis no 
 good policy to swindle the naygur av his 
 hard-earned emolumints, an' by presint in- 
 formashin' — 'twas the kyart-man that tould 
 me — ' ye've been perpeth rating that same 
 for nine months. But I'm a just man,' sez 
 I, ' an' overlookin' the presumpshin that 
 yondher settee wid the gilt top was not kem 
 "by honust' — at that he turned sky-green, so I 
 knew things was more thrue than tellable — 
 'not kem by honust, I'm willin' to compound 
 the felony for this month's winnin's.' " 
 
 i
 
 INCA EN A TIOX OF KRISIIXA J/ UL I'AXE Y. 149 
 
 " Ah ! Ho !" from Learoyd and Ortheris. 
 
 " That man Dearsley's rushin' on his 
 fate," continued IMulvaney, solemnly wag- 
 ging his head. "AH hell had no name bad 
 enough for me that tide. Faith, he called 
 me a robber! Me! that was savin' him 
 from continuin' in his evil wa3'S widout a 
 remonstrince — an' to a man av conscience a 
 remonstrince may change the chune av his 
 life, ' 'Tis not for me to argue,' sez I, 
 'fwhatever ye are, Mister Dearsley, but by 
 me hand I'll take away the timptation for 
 you that lies in that sedan chair.' 'You 
 will have to fight me for ut,' sez he, ' for well 
 I know you will never dare make report to 
 any one.' * Fight I will,' sez I, ' but not this 
 day, for I'm rejuced for want av nourish- 
 ment.' ' Ye're an ould, bould hand,' sez he, 
 sizin' me up an' down ; ' an' a jool av a fight 
 we will have. Eat now an' dhrink, an' go 
 your way.' Wid that he gave me some 
 hump an' whisky — good whisky — an' we 
 talked av this an' that the while. 'It goes 
 hard on me now,' sez I, wipin' me mouth, 
 * to confiscate that piece av furniture, but 
 justice is justice.' 'Ye've not got ut yet.' 
 sez he; 'there's the fight between.' 'There 
 is,' sez I, 'an' a good fight. Y'e shall have 
 the pick av the best quality in my rig'mint 
 for the dinner you have given this day.' 
 Thin I came hot-foot to you two. Hould 
 your tongue, the both. 'Tis this way. To- 
 morrow we three will go there an' he shall
 
 150 MUL VAXEY STORIE!?. 
 
 have Ins pick betune me an' Jock. Jock's 
 a deceivin' fighter, for he is all fat to the eye, 
 an' he moves slow. Now I'm all beef to the 
 look, an' I move quick. By me reckonin' 
 the Dearsley man won't take me ; so me an' 
 Orth'ris '11 see fair play. Jock, I tell you, 
 'twill be big fightin' — whipped, with the 
 cream above the jam. Afther the business 
 'twill take a good three av us — Jock '11 be 
 very hurt — to take away that sedan-chair." 
 
 " Palanquin." This from Ortheris. 
 
 " Fwhatever ut is, we must have ut. 'Tis 
 the only sellin' piece av property widin reach 
 that we can get so cheap. An' fwhat's a 
 fight, afther all ? He has robbed the nay- 
 gur-man, dishonust. We rob him honust 
 for the sake av the wdiisky he gave me." 
 
 " But wot'll we do with the bloomin' har- 
 ticle when we've got it? Them palanquins 
 are as big as 'ouses, an' uncommon 'ard to 
 sell, as McCleary said wdien he stole the 
 sentry-box from the Curragh." 
 
 " Who's goin' to do t' fightin'?" said Lea- 
 ro3'd, and Ortheris subsided. The three re- 
 turned to barracks without a word. Mul- 
 vany's last argument clinched the matter. 
 The palanquin was property, vendible and 
 to be attained in the simplest and least em- 
 barrassing fashion. It would eventually be- 
 come beer. Great was Mulvaney. 
 
 Next afternoon a procession of three 
 formed itself and disappeared into the scrub 
 in the direction of the new railway line.
 
 IXCARXATIOX OF KRISHNA MULVANEY. 151 
 
 LearoyJ alone was without care, for Mul- 
 vaney dived darkly into the future, and lit- 
 tle Ortherus feared the unknown. What 
 befell at that interview in the lonely pay- 
 shed by the side of the half-built embank- 
 ment only a few hundred coolies know, and 
 their tale is a confusing one, running thus : 
 "We were at work. Three men in red 
 coats came. They saw the sahib — Dearsley 
 Sahib. They made oration, and noticeably 
 the small man among the red-coats. Dears- 
 ley Sahib also made oration, and used many 
 very strong words. Upon this talk they de- 
 parted together to an open space, and there 
 the fat man in the red coat fought with 
 Dearsley Sahib after the custom of white 
 men — with his hands, making no noise, and 
 never at all pulling Dearsley Sahib's hair. 
 Such of us as were not afraid beheld these 
 things for just so long a time as a man needs 
 to cook the midday meal. The smnll man 
 in the red coat had possessed himself of 
 Dearsley Sahib's watch. No, he did not 
 steal that watch. He held it in his hand, 
 and at certain seasons made outcry, and the 
 twain ceased their combat, which was like 
 the combat of young bulls in spring. Both 
 men were soon all red, but Dearsley Sahib 
 was much more red than the other. Seeing 
 this, and fearing for his life — because we 
 greatly loved him — some fifty of us made 
 shift to rush upon the red-coats. But a cer- 
 tain man — very black as to the hair, and in
 
 152 MUL VA XEY STORIES. 
 
 no way to be confused with the small man, 
 or the fat man who fought — that man, we 
 affirm, ran upon us, and of us he embraced 
 some ten or fifty in both arms, and beat our 
 heads together, so that our livers turned to 
 water, and we ran away. It is not good to 
 interfere in the fightings of white men. 
 After that Dearsley Sahib fell and did not 
 rise, these men jumped upon his stomach 
 and despoiled him of all his money, and at- 
 tempted to fire the pay-shed, and departed. 
 Is it true that Dearsley Sahib makes no 
 complaint of these latter things having been 
 done? We were senseless with fear, and do 
 not at all remember. There was no palan- 
 quin near the pay-shed. What do Ave know 
 about palanquins ? Is it true that Dearsley 
 Sahib does not return to his place, on ac- 
 count of his sickness, for ten days ? This 
 is the fault of those bad men in the red 
 coats, who should be severely punished ; for 
 Dearsley Sahib is both our father and 
 mother, and we love him much. Yet, if 
 Dearsley Sahib does not return to this place 
 at all, we will speak the truth. There was a 
 palanquin, for the up-keep of which we were 
 forced to pay nine-tenths of our monthly 
 wage. On such mulctings Dearsley Sahib 
 allowed us to make obeisance to him before 
 the palanquin. What could we do? We 
 were poor men. He took a full half of our 
 wages. Will the government repa}' us those 
 moneys? Those three men in red coats
 
 IXCAEXA TIOX OF KBISUyA MVL VANEY. 153 
 
 bore the palanquin upon their shoulders 
 and departed. AH the money that Dearsley 
 Sahib had taken from us was in the cushions 
 of that palanquin. Therefore they stole it. 
 Thousands of rupees were there— all our 
 money. It was our bank-box, to fill which 
 we cheerfully contributed to Dearsley Sahib 
 three-sevenths of our monthly wage. Why 
 does the white man look upon us with the 
 eye of disfavor ? Before God, there was a 
 palanquin, and now there is no palanquin ; 
 and if they send the police here to make in- 
 quisition, we can only say that there never 
 has been any palanquin. Why should a 
 palanquin be near these works? We are 
 poor men, and we know nothing." 
 
 Such is the simplest version of the sim- 
 plest story connected with the descent upon 
 Dearsley. From the lips of the coolies I re- 
 ceived it. Dearsley himself was in no con- 
 dition to say anything, and Mulvaney pre- 
 served a massive silence, broken only by 
 the occasional licking of the lips. He had 
 seen a fight so gorgeous that even his power 
 of speech was taken from him. I respected 
 that reserve until, three days after the affair, 
 I discovered in a disused stable in my quar- 
 ters a palanquin of unchastened splendor — 
 evidently in past days the litter of a queen. 
 The pole whereby it swung between the 
 shoulders of the bearers was rich with the 
 painted pnpier-mnche of Cnshmere. The 
 shoulder-pads were of yellow silk. The
 
 154 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 panels of the litter itself were ablaze with 
 the loves of all the gods and goddesses of the 
 Hindu Pantheon — lacquer on cedar. The 
 cedar sliding-doors were fitted with hasps 
 of translucent Jaipur enamel, and ran in 
 grooves shod with silver. The cushions were 
 of brocaded Delhi silk, and the curtains, 
 which once hid any glimpse of the beauty 
 of the king's palace, were stiff with gold. 
 Closer investigation showed that the entire 
 fabric was everywhere rubbed and discolored 
 by time and wear; but even thus it was 
 sufficiently gorgeous to deserve housing on 
 the threshold of a royal zenana. I found no 
 fault with it, except that it was in my stable. 
 Then, trying to lift it by the silver-shod 
 shoulder-pole, I laughed. The road from 
 Dearsley's pay-shed to the cantonment was 
 a narrow and uneven one, and, traversed by 
 three very inexperienced palanquin-bearers, 
 one of whom was sorely battered about the 
 head, must have been a path of torment. 
 Still I did not quite recognize the right of 
 the three musketeers to turn me into a 
 *' fence " for stolen property. 
 
 " I'm askin' you to warehouse ut," said 
 Mulvaney when he was brought to consider 
 the question. " There's no steal in ut. 
 Dearsley tould us we cud have ut if we 
 fought. Jock fought — an' oh, sorr, when 
 the throublc was ut its finest an' Jock was 
 bleedin' like a stuck pig, and little Orth'ris 
 was shquealin' on one leg chewin' big bites
 
 IXCA RNA TIOX OF KRISHNA MUL VANEY. 155 
 
 out av Dearsley's watch, I wud ha' given 
 my phice at the fight to have had you see 
 wan round. He tuk Jock, as I suspicioned 
 lie would, an' Jock was deceptive. Nine 
 roun's they were even matched, an' at the 
 tenth — About that palanquin now. There's 
 not the least throuble in the world, or we 
 wud not ha' brought ut here. You will on- 
 dherstand that the queen — God bless her ! — 
 does not reckon for a privit soldier to kape 
 elephints an' palanquins an' sich in bar- 
 ricks. Afther we had dhragged ut down 
 from Dearsley's through that cruel scrub 
 that near broke Orth'ris's heart, we set ut in 
 the ravine for a night ; an' a thief av a por- 
 cupine an' a civet av a jackal roosted in ut, 
 as well we knew in the mornin'. I put ut 
 to you, sorr, is an elegant palanquin, fit for 
 the princess, the natural abidin'-place av all 
 the vermin in cantonmints? We brought 
 utto you, afther dhark, and put ut in your 
 slitable. Do not let your conscience prick. 
 Think av the rejoicin' men in the ])ay-shed 
 yonder — lookin' at Dearsley wid his head 
 tied up in a towel — an' well knowin' that 
 they can dhraw their pay ivry month wid out 
 stoppages for riffles. Indirectly, sorr, you 
 have rescued from an onprincipled son of a 
 night-hawk the peasanthry av a numerous 
 village. An', besides, will I let that sedan- 
 chair rot on our hands? Not I. 'Tis not 
 every day a piece av pure joolry comes into 
 the market. There's not a king widin these
 
 156 3IUL VA XE Y S TORIES. 
 
 forty miles" — he waved his hand around the 
 dusty horizon — ' not a king wud not be 
 glad to buy ut. Some day mesilf, whin I 
 have leisure, I'll take ut up along the road 
 an' dish pose av ut." 
 
 " How ?" said I, for I knew the man was 
 capable of anything. 
 
 "Get into ut, av coorse, an' keep wan eye 
 open through the curtains. Whin I see a 
 likely man av the native persuasion, I will 
 discind blushin' from me canopy an' say : 
 'Buy a palanquin, ye black scutt?' I will 
 have to hire four men to carry me first, 
 though • and that's impossible till next pay- 
 day." 
 
 Curiously enough, Learoyd, who had 
 fought for the prize, and in winning secured 
 the highest pleasure life had to offer him, 
 was altogether disposed to undervalue it, 
 while Ortheris openly said that it would be 
 better to break the thing up. Dearsley, he 
 argued, might be a many-sided man, capable, 
 despite his magnificent fighting qualities, of 
 setting in motion the machinery of the civil 
 law — a thing much abhorred by the soldier. 
 Under any circumstances their fun had come 
 and passed ; the next pay-day was close a 
 hand, when there would be beer for all. 
 Wherefore longer conserve the painted pa- 
 lanquin? 
 
 "A first-class rifle-shot, an' a good little 
 man av your inches you are," said Mulvaney. 
 " But you niver had a head worth a soft-
 
 INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY. 157 
 
 boiled egg. 'Tis me has to lie awake av 
 nights schamin' an' plottin' for the three av 
 ns. Orth'ris, me son, 'tis no matther av a 
 few gallons av beer — no, nor twinty gallons 
 — but tubs an' vats an' firkins in that sedan- 
 chair. Who ut was, an' what ut was, an' 
 how lit got there, we do not know ; but I 
 know in me bones that you an' me an' Jock 
 wid his sprained thumb will get a fortune 
 thereby. Lave me alone, an' let me think." 
 
 Meantime the palanquin stayed in my 
 stall, the key of which was in Mulvaney's 
 hands. 
 
 Pay-day came, and with it beer. It was 
 not in experience to "hope that Mulvaney, 
 dried by tour weeks' drought, would avoid 
 excess. Next morning he and the palan- 
 quin had disappeared. He had taken the 
 precaution of getting three days' leave "to 
 see a friend on the railway," and the col- 
 onel, well knowing that the seasonal out- 
 burst was near, and hoping it would spend 
 its force beyond the limits of his jurisdic- 
 tion, cheerfully gave him all he demanded. 
 At this point his history, as recorded in the 
 mess-room, stopped. 
 
 Ortheris carried it not much further. 
 "No, 'e wasn't drunk," said the little man, 
 loyally, "the liquor was no more than feel- 
 in' its way round inside of 'im; but 'e went 
 an' filled that 'ole bloomin' palanquin with 
 bottles 'fore 'e went off. He's gone 'an 'ired 
 six men to carry 'im, an' I 'ad to 'elp 'im
 
 158 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 into 'is nupshal couch, 'cause 'e wouldn't 
 'ear reason. 'E's gone off in 'is shirt an' 
 trousies, swearin' tremenjus — gone down the 
 road in the palanquin, wavin' 'is legs out o' 
 the windy." 
 
 " Yes," said I, " but where ?' ' 
 
 " Now you arx me a question. 'E said 'e was 
 goin' to sell that palanquin, but from obser- 
 vations what happened when I was stuffin' 
 'ira through the door, I fancy 'e's gone to 
 the new embankment to mock at Dearsley. 
 Soon as Jock's off duty I'm goin' there to 
 see if 'e's safe — not Mulvaney, but t'other 
 man. My saints but I pity 'im as 'elps Ter- 
 ence out o' the palanquin when 'e's once fail 
 drunk!" 
 
 " He'll come back without harm," I said. 
 
 " 'Corse 'e will. On'y question is, what '11 
 'e be doin' on the road. Killin' Dearsley, 
 like as not. 'E shouldn't 'a' gone without 
 Jock or me." 
 
 Reinforced by Learoyd, Ortheris sought 
 the foreman of the coolie gang. Dearsley 's 
 head was still embellished with towels. 
 Mulvaney, drunk or sober, would have 
 struck no man in that condition, and Dears- 
 ley indignantly denied that he would bave 
 taken advantage of the intoxicated brave. 
 
 "I had my pick o' you two," he explained 
 to Learoyd, "and you got my palanquin — 
 not before I'd made my profit on it. Why'd 
 I do any harm when everything's settled? 
 Your man did come here — drunk as Davy's
 
 INCAENA TION OF KRISHNA MUL VANEY. 159 
 
 SOW on a frosty night — came a-purpose to 
 mock me — stuck liis head out o'the door an' 
 called me a crucified hodman. I made him 
 drunker, an' sent him along. But I never 
 touched him." 
 
 To these things Learoyd, slow to perceive 
 the evidences of sincerity, answered only, 
 " If owt comes to Mulvaney 'long o' you, 
 I'll gripple you, clouts or no clouts on your 
 ugly head, an' I'll draw t' throat twisty- 
 ways, man. See there now." 
 
 The embassy removed itself, and Dears- 
 ley, the battered, laughed alone over his 
 supper that evening. 
 
 Three days passed — a fourth and a fifth. 
 The week drew to a close and Mulvaney did 
 not return. He, his royal palanquin, and 
 his six attendants had vanished into air. A 
 very large and very tipsy soldier, his feet 
 sticking out of the litter of a reigning prin- 
 cess, is not a thing to travel along the ways 
 without comment. Yet no man of all the 
 country round had seen any such wonder. 
 He was, and he was not ; and Learoyd sug- 
 gested the immediate smashment of Dears- 
 ley as a sacrifice to his ghost. Ortheris 
 insisted that all was well, and in the light of 
 past experience his hopes seemed reasonable. 
 
 " When INIulvaney goes up the road," said 
 he, " 'e's like to go a very long ways up, 
 specially when 'e's so blue drunk as 'e is 
 now. But what gits me is 'is not bein' 
 'eared of pullin' wool off the niggers some-
 
 160 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 wheres about. That don't look good. The 
 drink must ha' died out in 'ini by this, un- 
 less 'e's broke a bank, an then — Why 
 don't 'e come back? 'E didn't ought to ha' 
 gone off without us." 
 
 Even Ortheris's heart sunk at the end of 
 the seventh day, for half the regiment were 
 out scouring the country-side, and Learoyd 
 had been forced to figlittwo men who liinted 
 openly that Mulvaney had deserted. To do 
 him justice, the colonel laughed at the no- 
 tion, even when it was put forward by his 
 much-trusted adjutant. 
 
 " Mulvaney would as soon think of desert- 
 ing as you would," said he. " No, he's either 
 fallen into a mischief among the villagers — 
 and yet that iain't likely, for he'd blarney 
 himself out of the Pit ; or else he is engaged 
 on urgent private affairs — some stupendous 
 devilment that we shall hear of at mess after 
 it has been tlie round of the barrack-rooms. 
 The worst of it is that I shall have to give 
 him twenty-eight days' confinenient at least 
 for being absent without leave, just when I 
 most want him to lick the new batch of re- 
 cruits into shape. I never knew a man who 
 could put a polish on young soldiers as 
 quickly as Mulvaney can. How does he do 
 ?t?" 
 
 " With blarney and the buckle-end of a 
 belt, sir," said the adjutant. " He is worth 
 a couple of non-commissioned officers when 
 we are dealin' w^h an Irish draft, and the
 
 INCARNA TION OF KRISHNA M UL I 'AXEr. 1 G 1 
 
 London lads seem to adore him. The worst 
 of it is that if he goes to the cells the other 
 two are neither to hold nor to bind till he 
 comes out again. I believe Ortheris preaches 
 mutiny on those occasions, and I know that 
 the mere presence of Learoyd mourning 
 for Mulvaney kills all the clieerfulness of 
 his room. The sergeant tells me that he 
 allows no man to laugh when he feels un- 
 happy. They are a queer gang." 
 
 "For all that, I wish we had a few more 
 of them. I like a well-conducted regiment, 
 but these pasty-faced, shifty-eyed, mealy- 
 mouthed young slouchers from the depot 
 worry me sometimes with their offensive 
 virtue. They don't seem to have backbone 
 enough to do anything but play cards and 
 prowl round the married quarters. I believe 
 I'd forgive that old villain on the spot if he 
 turned up with any sort of explanation that 
 I could in decency accept." 
 
 " Not likely to be much difficulty about 
 that, sir," said the adjutant. " Mulvaney 's ex- 
 planations are only one degree less wonderful 
 than his performances. They sny that when 
 he was in the Black Tyrone, before he came 
 to us, he was discovered on the banks of the 
 Liffy trying to sell his colonel's charger to a 
 Donegal dealer as a perfect lady's hack. 
 Shackbolt commanded the Tyrone then." 
 
 "Shackbolt must have had apoplexy at 
 the thought of his ramping war-horse an- 
 swering to that description. He used to 
 11
 
 162 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 buy unbacked devils, and tame them by 
 some pet theory of starvation. What did 
 Mulvaney say ?" 
 
 "That he was a member of the Society 
 for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, 
 anxious to 'sell the poor baste where he would 
 get something to fill out his dimples.' Shack- 
 bolt laughed, but I fancy that was why Mul- 
 vaney exchanged to ours." 
 
 " I wish he were back," said the colonel; 
 " for I like him and believe he likes me." 
 
 That evening, to cheer our souls, Learoyd. 
 Ortheris and I went into the waste to smoke 
 out a porcupine. All the dogs attended, but 
 even their clamor — and they began to discuss 
 the shortcomings of porcupines before they 
 left cantonments — could not take us out of 
 ■ourselves. A large, low moon turned the 
 tops of the plume-grass to silver, and the 
 ■stunted camel thorn-bushes and sour tama- 
 risks into the likenesses of trooping devils. 
 The smell of the sun had not left the earth, 
 and little aimless winds blowing across the 
 rose-gardens to the southward brought the 
 scent of dried roses and water. Our fire once 
 started, and the dogs craftily disposed to 
 wait the dash of the porcupine, we climbed 
 to the top of a rain-scarred hillock of earth, 
 and looked across the scrub seamed with 
 cattle-paths, white with the long grass, and 
 ■dotted with spots of level pond-bottom, 
 where the snipe would gather in winter. 
 
 " This," said Ortheris, with a sigh, as he
 
 IXCARNA TIOX OF KRISHNA M VL VANE Y. 163 
 
 took in the nnkempt desolation of it all, 
 " this is sanguinary. This is unusual san- 
 guinary. Sort o' mad country. Like a 
 grate when the fire's put out by the sun.'^ 
 He shaded his eyes against the moonlight. 
 "An' there's a loony dancin' in the middle 
 of it all. Quite right. I'd dance too if I 
 wasn't so downheart." 
 
 There pranced a portent in the face of the 
 moon — a huge and ragged spirit of the 
 waste, that flapped its wings from afar. It 
 had risen out of the earth ; it was coming 
 toward us, and its outline was never twice 
 the same. The toga, table-cloth, or dress- 
 ing-gown, whatever the creature wore, took 
 a hundred shapes. Once it stopped on a 
 neighboring mound and flung all its legs 
 and arras to the winds. 
 
 " My, but that scarecrow 'as got 'em 
 bad !" said Ortheris. " Seems like if 'e 
 comes anv furder we'll 'ave to argify with 
 'im." 
 
 Learoyd raised himself from the dirt as a 
 bull clears his flanks of the wallow. And 
 as the bull bellows, so he, after a short 
 minute at gaze, gave tongue to the stars. 
 
 "Mulvaaxey! Mulvaaxey! A hoo !" 
 
 Then we yelled all together, and the figure 
 dipped into the hollow, till, with a crash of 
 rending grass, the lost one strolled up to the 
 light of the fire and disappeared to the waist 
 in a wave of joyous dogs. Then Learoyd 
 and Ortheris gave greeting, bass and falsetto
 
 164 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 together, both swallowing a lump in the 
 throat. 
 
 " You damned fool !" said they, and sev- 
 erally pounded him with their fists. 
 
 " Go easy !" he answered, wrapping a huge 
 arm round each. •' I would have you know 
 that I am a god, to be treated as such — tho,' 
 b}'- me faith, I fancy I've got to go to the 
 guard-room just like a privit soldier." 
 
 The latter part of the sentence destroyed 
 the suspicions raised by the former. Any 
 one would have been justified in regarding 
 Mulvaney as mad. He was hatless and 
 shoeless, and his shirt and trowsers were 
 dropping off him. But he wore one won- 
 drous garment— a gigantic cloak that fell 
 from collar-bone to heel — of pale pink silk, 
 wrought all over in the cunningest needle- 
 work of hands long since dead, with the 
 loves of the Hindu gods. The monstrous 
 figures leaped in and out of the light of the 
 fire as he settled the folds round him. 
 
 Ortheris handled the stuff respectfully for 
 a moment while I was trying to remember 
 where I had seen it before. Then he 
 screamed, " What 'are you done with the 
 palanquin ? You're wearin' the linin'." 
 
 "I am," said the Irishman, "an' by the 
 same token the 'broidery is scrapin' me hide 
 off. I've lived in this sumpshus counter- 
 pane for four days. Me son, I begin to on- 
 dherstand why the naygur is no use. Wid- 
 out me boots, an' me trousies like an open-
 
 INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY. 165 
 
 work stocking on a gyurl's leg at a dance, I 
 begin to feel like a naygnr-man — all fearful 
 and timoreous. Give me a pipe an' I'll tell 
 on." 
 
 He lighted a pipe, resumed his grip of his 
 two friends, and rocked to and fro in a gale 
 of laughter. 
 
 " Mulvaney," said Ortheris, sternly, 
 " 'tain't no time for laughin'. You've given 
 Jock an' me more trouble than you're worth. 
 You 'ave been absent without leave, an' 
 you'll go into cells for that ; an' you've come 
 back disgustingly dressed an' most improper 
 in the linin' o' that bloomin' palanquin. 
 Instid of which you laugh. An' we thought 
 you was dead all the time." 
 
 " Bhoys," said the culprit, still shaking 
 genths " whin I've done me tale you may 
 cry if you like, an' little Orth'ris here can 
 thrample me inside out. Ha' done an' lis- 
 ten. Me performinces have been stupenjus; 
 me luck has been the blessed luck av the 
 British army — an' there's no better than 
 that. I went out dhrunk an' drinkin' in the 
 palanquin, an' I have come back a pink god. 
 Did any av you go to Dearsley afther me 
 time was up ? He was at the bottom of ut 
 all." 
 
 "Ah said so," murmured Leareyd. "To- 
 morrow ah'll smash t'face in upon his heead." 
 
 "Ye will not. Dearsley 's a jool av a man. 
 Afther Ortheris had put me into the palan- 
 quin an' the six bearer-men were gruntin'
 
 166 MUL VANE Y S TORIES. 
 
 down the road, I tuk thought to mock Dears- 
 ley for that fight. So I tould thim, ' Go to 
 th' embankmint,' and there, bein' most 
 amazin' full, I shtuck me head out av the 
 concern, an' passed compliments wid Dears- 
 ley. I must ha' miscalled him outrageous, 
 for whin I am that way the power av the 
 tongue comes on me. I can bare remimber 
 tellin' him that his mouth opened endways 
 like the mouth av a skate, which was thrue 
 afther Learoyd had handled ut; an' I clear 
 remimber his takin' no manner nor matter 
 av offense, but givin' me a big dhrink av 
 beer. 'Twas the beer did the thrick, for I 
 crawled back into the palanquin, steppin' 
 on me right ear wid me left foot, and thin I 
 slept like the dead. Wanst I half roused, 
 an' begad the noise in me head was tremen- 
 jus^roarin' an' rattlin' an' poundin', such 
 as was quite new to me. ' Mother av Mercy,' 
 thinks I, ' fwhat a concertina I will have on 
 me shoulders whin I wakel' An' wid that 
 I curls mesilf up to sleep before ut should 
 get hould on me. Bhoys,that noise was not 
 dhrink, 'twas the rattle av a thrain !" 
 
 There followed an impressive pause. 
 
 " Yes, he had put me on a thrain — put me, 
 palanquin an' all, an' six black-assassins av 
 his own coolies that was in his nefarious 
 confidence, on the flat av a ballast-thruck, 
 and we were rowlin' on, bowlin' along to 
 Benares. Glory be that I did not wake up 
 thin an' introjuce mesilf to the coolies. As
 
 INCAENA TIOX OF KRISHNA MUL VANEY. 1 6 T 
 
 I Avas savin', I slept for the betther part av a 
 clay an' a night. But reniimber you, that 
 that man Dearsley had packed me off on 
 wan av his material-thrains to Benares, all 
 for to make me over-stay me leave an' get 
 me into the cells." 
 
 The explanation was an eminently ra- 
 tional one. Benares was at least ten hours 
 by rail from the cantonments, and nothing 
 in the world could have saved Mulvaney 
 from arrest as a deserter had he appeared 
 there in the apparel of his orgies. Dearsley 
 had not forgotten to take revenge. Learoyd^ 
 drawing back a little, began to place soft 
 blows over selected portions of Mulvaney's 
 body. His thoughts were away on the em- 
 bankment, and they meditated evil for 
 Dearsley. Mulvaney continued: 
 
 "Whin I was full awake tlie palanquin 
 was set down in a street, I suspicioned, for I 
 cud hear people passin' an' talkin'. But I 
 knew well I was far from home. There is a 
 queer smell upon our cantonments — smell 
 av dried earth an' brick-kilns wid whiffs av 
 a cavalry stable-litter. This place smelled 
 marigold flowers an' bad water, an' wanst 
 somethin' alive came an' blew heavy with 
 his muzzle at the chink av the shutter. ' It's 
 in a village I am,' thinks I to mesilf, * an* 
 the parochial buffalo is investigatin' the 
 palanquin.' But any ways I had no desire 
 to move. Only lie still Avhin you're in for- 
 eign parts an' the standin' luck av the Brit-
 
 168 3IUL VANE Y S TORIES. 
 
 ish army will carry ye through. That is an 
 epigram. I made ut. 
 
 " Thin a lot av whisperin' divils sur- 
 rounded the palanquin. ' Take ut up,' says 
 wan man. 'But who'll pay us?' says an- 
 other. * The Maharanee's minister, av 
 coorse,' sez the man. ' Oho !' sez I to me- 
 silf, ' I'm a quane in me own right, wid a 
 minister to pay me expinses. I'll be an 
 emperor if I lie still long enough. But this is 
 no village I've struck.' I lay quiet, but I 
 gummecl me right e3^e to a crack av the 
 shutters, an' I saw that the whole street was 
 crammed wid palanquins an' horses an' a 
 sprinklin' av naked priests, all yellow pow- 
 der an' tigers' tails. But I may tell you, 
 Orth'ris, an' you, Learoyd, that av all the 
 palanquins ours was the most imperial an' 
 magnificent. Now a palanquin means a na- 
 tive lady all the world over, excipt whin a 
 soldier avthe quane happens to be takin' a 
 ride. 'Women an' priests!' sez I, 'Your 
 father's son is in the right pew this time, 
 Terence. There will be proceedin's.' Six 
 black divils in pink muslin tuk up the pa- 
 lanquin, an' oh! but the rowlin' an' the 
 rockin' made me sick. Thin we got fair 
 jammed among the palanquins — not more 
 than fifty av them — an' we grated an' 
 bumped like Queenstown potato-smacks in 
 a runnin' tide. I cud hear the women gig- 
 glin' an' squirkin' in their palanquins, but 
 mine was the royal equipage. They made
 
 INCARNATION OF KRISHNA MULVANEY. 169 
 
 way for ut, an' begad, the pink muslin men 
 o' mine were howlin', ' Room for tlie Maha- 
 ranee av Gokral-Seetarnn.' Do _you know 
 aught av the lady, sorr?" 
 
 " Yes," said I. " She is a very estimable 
 old queen of the Central Indian States, and 
 they say she is fat. How on earth could she 
 go to Benares without all the city knowing 
 her palanquin ?" 
 
 " 'Twas the eternal foolishness av the nay- 
 gur-men. They saw the palanquin lyin' 
 loneful an' forlornsome, an' the beauty av 
 ut, after Dearsley's men had dhropped ut 
 an' gone away, an' they gave ut the best 
 name that occurred to thim. Quite right 
 too. For aught we know the ould lady was 
 thravelin' incog. — like me. I'm glad to hear 
 she's fat. I was no light weight mesilf, an' 
 me men were mortial anxious to dhrop me 
 under a great big archway promiscuously 
 ornamented with the most improper carv- 
 in's an' cuttin's I iver saw. Begad ! they 
 made me blush — like a — like maharanee." 
 
 " The temple of Prithi-Devi," I mur- 
 mured, remembering the monstrous horrora 
 of that sculptured archway at Benares. 
 
 "Pretty Devilskins, savin' your presenf^e, 
 sorr. There was nothin' pretty about ut, 
 except me 1 'Twas all half dhark, an' whin 
 the coolies left they shut a big black gate 
 behind av us, an' half a company av fat yel- 
 low priests began pullyhaulin' the palan- 
 quins into a dharker place yet — a big stone
 
 170 MULVA NE Y STORIES. 
 
 hall full av pillars an' gods an' incense, an' 
 all manner of similar thruck. The gate dis- 
 concerted me, for I perceived I wud have to 
 go forward to get out, my retreat bein' cut 
 off. By the same token a good priest makes 
 a bad palanquin-coolie. Begad ! they nearly 
 turned me inside out draggin' the palanquin 
 to the temple. Now the disposishin av the 
 forces inside was this way. The Maharanee 
 av Gokral-Seetarun — that was me — lay by 
 the favor av Providence on the far left flank 
 behind the dhark av a pillar carved with 
 elephants's heads. The remainder av the 
 palanquins was in a big half circle facing in 
 to the biggest, fattest, an' most amazin' she- 
 god that iver I dreamed av. Her head ran up 
 into the black above us, an' her feet stuck 
 out in the light av a little fire av melted 
 butter that a priest was feedin' out av a but- 
 ter-dish. Thin a man began to sing an' 
 play on somethin' backin the dhark, an"twas 
 a queer song. Ut made me hair lift on the 
 back av me neck. Thin the doors av all 
 the palanquins slid back, an' the women 
 bundled out. I saw what I'll niver see agin. 
 'Twas more <>lorious than transformations at 
 a pantomime, for they was in pink an' blue 
 an' silver an' red an grass-green, wid di'- 
 monds an' imralds an' great red rubies all 
 over thim. But that was the least part av 
 the glory. Oh, bhoys, they were more lovely 
 than the like av any loveliness in Hivin ; ay, 
 their little bare feet were better than the
 
 INC A ENA TION OF KRISHNA M UL VANEY. 171 
 
 white hands av a lord's lady, an' their 
 mouths were like puckered roses, an' their 
 eyes were bigger an' dharker than the eyes 
 av any livin' women I've seen. Ye may 
 laugh, but I'm speakin' truth. I never saw 
 the like, an' never I will again." 
 
 " Seeing that in all probablity you were 
 watching the wives and daughters of most 
 of the kings of India, the chances are that 
 you won't," I said, for it was dawning on me 
 that Mulvaney had stumbled upon a big 
 queens' praying at Benares. 
 
 " I niver will," he said, mournfully. " That 
 sight doesn't come twist to any man. It 
 made me ashamed to watch. A fat priest 
 knocked at me door. I did'nt think he'd have 
 the insolince to disturb the Maharanee av 
 Gokral-Seetarun,so Hay still. ' Theold cow's 
 asleep,' sez he to another. ' Let her be,' sez 
 that. ' 'Twill be long before she has a calf!' 
 I might ha' known before he spoke that all 
 a woman ]n-ays for in Injia — an' for matter o' 
 that in England, too — is childher. That 
 made me more sorry I'd come, me bein', as 
 you well know, a childless man." 
 
 He was silent for a moment, thinking of 
 his little son, dead many years ago, 
 
 " They prayed, an' the butter-fires blazed 
 up an' the incense turned everything 
 blue, an' between that an' the fires the 
 women looked as tho' they were all ablaze 
 an' twinklin'. They tuk hold av the she- 
 god's knees, they cried out an' they threw
 
 172 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 thimsilves about, an' that world-without- 
 end-amen music was dhriving thim mad. 
 Mother av Hivin ! how they cried, an' the 
 old she-god grinnin' above thera all so 
 scornful ! The dhrink was dyin' out in me 
 fast, an' I was thinkin' harder than the 
 thoughts wud go through me head — think- 
 in' how to get out an' all manner of nonsinse 
 as well. The women were rockin' in rows, 
 their di'mond belts clickin', an' the tears 
 runnin' out betune their hands, an' the 
 lights were goin' lower and dharker. Thin 
 there was a blaze like lightnin' from the 
 roof, an' that showed me the inside av the 
 palanquin, an' at the end where my foot was 
 stood the livin' spit an' image o' myself 
 worked on the linin'. This man here, it 
 was." 
 
 He hunted in the folds of his pink cloak, 
 ran a hand under one, and thrust into the 
 fire-light a foot-long embroidered present- 
 ment of the great god Krishna, playing on 
 a flute. The heavy jowl, the staring eye, and 
 the blue-black mustache of the god made 
 up a far-off resemblance to Mulvaney. 
 
 " The blaze was gone in a wink, but the 
 whole schame came to me thin. I believe 
 I was mad, too. I slid the off shutter open 
 an' rowled out into the dhark behind the 
 elephint-head pillar, tucked up me trousies 
 to me knees, slipped off me boots an' tuk a 
 general hould av all the pink linin' av the 
 palanquin. Glory be, ut ripped out like a
 
 INCARXA TION OF KRISHNA MUL VANEY. 1 73 
 
 woman's dhriss when you tread on ut at a ser- 
 jint's ball, and a bottle came with nt. I 
 tuk the bottle an' the next minut I was out 
 av the dhark av the pillar, the pink linin' 
 wrapped round me most graceful, the music 
 thunderin' like kettle-drums, an' a cowld 
 draft blowin' round me bare legs. By this 
 hand that did ut, I was Krishna tootlin' on 
 the flute — the god that the rig'mintal chap- 
 lain talks about. A sweet sight I must ha' 
 looked. I knew me eyes were big, an' me 
 face was wax white, an' at the worst I must 
 ha' looked like a ghost. But they took me 
 for the livin' god. The music stopped, an' 
 the women were dead dumb, an' I crooked 
 me legs like a shepherd on a china basin, 
 an' I did the ghost-waggle with me feet as I 
 had done ut at the rig'mintal theatre many 
 times, an' I slid acrost the width av that 
 temple in front av the shegod tootlin' on 
 the beer bottle." 
 
 "Wot did you toot?" demanded Ortheris 
 the practical. 
 
 " Me? Oh !" Mulvaney sprung u}), suit- 
 ing the action to the word, and slidin' 
 gravely in front of us. a dilapidated but im- 
 posing deity in the half light. " I sung: 
 
 " ' Only say 
 You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan, 
 
 Don't say nay, 
 Charmin' Judy Callagban.' 
 
 I didn't know me own voice when I sung.
 
 1 74 MUL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 An' oh ! 'twas pitiful to see the women. 
 The darlin's were down on their faces. 
 Whin I passed the last wan I cud see her 
 poor little fingers workin' one in another as 
 if she wanted to touch me feet. So I dhrew 
 the tail av this pink overcoat over her head 
 for the greater honor, an' I slid into the 
 dhark on the other side av the temple, an' 
 fetched up in the arms av a big fat priest. 
 All I wanted was to get away clear. So I 
 tuk hira by his greasy throat an' shut the 
 speech out av him. ' Out !' sez I. ' Which 
 way, ye fat heathen ?' ' Oh !' sez he. ' Man,' 
 sez I. 'White man, soldier man, common 
 soldier man. Where in the name av confu- 
 sion is the back door?' The women in the 
 temple were still on their faces an' a young 
 priest was holdin' out his arms above their 
 heads. 
 
 " ' This way,' sez me fat friend, duckin' 
 behind a big bull god an' divin' into a pas- 
 sage. Thin I remimbered that I must ha' 
 made the miraculous reputation av that 
 temple for the next fifty years. ' Not so 
 fast,' T sez, an' I held out both me hands 
 wid a wink. That ould thief smiled like a 
 father. I tuk him by the back av the neck 
 in case he should be wishful to put a knife 
 into me unbeknownst, an' I ran him up an' 
 down the passage twice to collect his sensi- 
 bilities! 'Be quiet!' sez he, in English. 
 ' Now you talk sense,' I sez. ' Fwhat '11 you 
 give me for the use av that most iligant palan-
 
 INCARXA TION OF KRISHNA MUL VAXEY. 175 
 
 qiiin I have no time to take away ?' ' Don't 
 tell,' sez he. 'Is ut like?' sez I. 'But 
 ye might give me me railway fare. I'm far 
 from me home an' I've done you a service.' 
 Bhoys 'tis a good thing to be a priest. The 
 ould man niver throubled himself to dhraw 
 from a bank. As I will prove to you subse- 
 quint, he philandered all round the slack av 
 his clothes an' began dribblin' ten-rupee 
 notes, old gold mohurs, an' rupees into me 
 hand till I could hould no more." 
 
 " You lie !" said Ortheris. " You're mad 
 or sunstrook. A native don't give coin un- 
 less you cut it out o' 'im. 'Tain't nature." 
 
 " Thin me lie an' me sunstroke is con- 
 cealed under that lump av sod yonder," re- 
 torted Mulvaney unruffled, nodding across 
 the scrub. " An' there's a dale more in nat- 
 ure than your squidgy little legs have iver 
 taken you to, Orth'ris, me son. Four hun- 
 dred and thirty-four rupees by me reckon- 
 in', an' a big fat gold necklace that I took 
 from him as a remimbrancer, was our share 
 in that business." 
 
 " An' 'e give it you for love ?" said Or- 
 theris. 
 
 " We were alone in that passage. May be 
 I was a trifle too pressin', but considher 
 fwhat I had done for the good av the temple 
 an' the iverlastin' joy av those women. 
 'Twas cheap at the price. I wud ha' taken 
 more if I cud ha' found ut. I turned the 
 ould man upside down at the last, but he
 
 176 MULVASEY STORIES. 
 
 was milked dhry. Thin he opened a door 
 in another passage an' I found mysilf up to 
 me knees in Benares river-water, an' bad 
 smellin' ut is. More by token I had come 
 out on the river-line close to a cracklin' 
 corpse. This was in the heart av the night, 
 for I had been four hours in tlie temple. 
 There was a crowd av boats tied uj), so I tuk 
 wan an' wint across the river. Thin I came 
 home acrost country, lyin' up by day." 
 
 " How on earth did you manage?" I said. 
 
 " How did Sir Frederick Roberts get from 
 Cabul to Candahar? He marched an' he 
 niver tould how near he was to breakin' 
 down. That's why he is fwhat he is. An' 
 now — " Mulvaney yawned portentously. 
 "Now I will go an' give mesilf up for ab- 
 since widout leave. It's eight-an'-twinty 
 days, an' the rough end of the colonel's 
 tongue in orderly-room any way you look 
 at ut. But 'tis cheap at the price." 
 
 " Mulvaney," said I, softly, " if there 
 happens to be any sort of excuse that the 
 colonel can in any way accept, I have a 
 notion that you'll get nothing more than 
 the dressing-down. The new recruits are in, 
 and—" 
 
 " Not a word more, sorr. Is ut excuses 
 the ould man wants ? 'Tis not my way, 
 but he shall have thim. I'll tell him I was 
 engaged in financial operations connected 
 wid a church," and he flapped his way to 
 cantonments and the cells, singing lustily :
 
 INCAENA TIO N OF KRISHNA M UL VANEY, 177 
 
 " So they sent a corp'ril's file, 
 And they put me in the gyard-room 
 For conduck unbecomin' of a soldier." 
 
 And when he was lost in the haze oi the 
 moonlight we could hear the refrain : 
 
 "Bang upon the big drum, bash upon the cymbals, 
 As we go marchin' along, boys oh ! 
 For although in this campaign 
 There's no whisky nor champagne, 
 We'll keep our spirits goin with a song, boys I" 
 
 Therewith he surrendered himself to the 
 joyful and almost weeping guard, and was 
 made much of by his fellows. But to the 
 colonel he said he had been smitten with 
 sunstroke and had lain insensible on a vil- 
 lager's cot for untold hours, and between 
 laughter and good will the affair was 
 smoothed over, so that he could next day 
 teach the new recruits how to "Fear God, 
 Honor the Queen, Shoot Straight, and Keep 
 Clean." 
 
 There is no further space to record the 
 digging up of the spoils, or the triumphal 
 visit of the three to Dearsley, who feared for 
 his life, but was most royally treated instead, 
 and under that influence told how the pa- 
 lanquin had come into his possession. But 
 that is another story. 
 
 12
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH 
 SHADD. 
 
 I. 
 
 All day I had followed at the heels of a 
 pursuing army, engaged on one of the finest 
 battles that ever carap of exercise beheld. 
 Thirty thousand troops had by the wisdom 
 of the go)'ernment of India been turned 
 loose over a few thousand square miles of 
 country to practice in peace what they 
 would never attempt in war. Consequently 
 cavalry charged unshaken infantry at the 
 trot ; infantry captured artillery by frontal 
 attacks, delivered in line of quarter col- 
 umns ; and mounted infantry skirmished 
 up to the wheels of an armored train, which 
 carried nothing more deadly than a twenty- 
 five pounder Armstrong, two Nordenfeldts, 
 and a few score volunteers, all cased in 
 three-eighths-inch boiler-plate. Yet it was 
 a very life-like camp. Operations did not 
 cease at sundown; nobody knew the coun- 
 try, and nobody was to spare man or horse. 
 There was unending cavalry scouting, and 
 almost unending forced work over broken 
 ground. 
 
 The Army of the South had finally 
 pierced the centre of the Army of the North, 
 (178)
 
 THE COURTING OF DIXAII SHADD. 179 
 
 and AA'as pouring through the gap, hot foot, 
 to capture a city of strategic importance. 
 Its front extended fanwise, the sticks being 
 represented by regiments strung out along 
 the line of route backward to the divisional 
 transport columns, and all the lumber that 
 trails behind an army on the move. On its 
 right the broken left of the Army of the 
 North was flying in mass, chased by the 
 Southern horse and hammered by the 
 Southern guns, till these had been pushed 
 far beyond the limits of their last support. 
 Then the flying Army of the North sat 
 down to rest, while the elated commandant 
 of the pursuing force telegraphed that he 
 held it in check and observation. 
 
 Unluckily he did not observe that three 
 miles to his right flank a flying column of 
 Northern horse, with a detachment of 
 Ghoorkhas and British troops, had been 
 pushed round as fast as the falling light 
 allowed, to cut across the entire rear of the 
 Southern Army, to break, as it were, all the 
 ribs of the fan where they converged, by 
 striking at the transport reserve, ammuni- 
 tion, and artillery supplies. Their instruc- 
 tions were to go in, avoiding a few scouts 
 who might not have been drawn off' 
 by the pursuit, and create sufflcient excite- 
 ment to impress the Southern Army with 
 the wisdom of guarding their own flank and 
 rear before they captured cities. It was a 
 pretty maneuver, neatly carried out.
 
 180 MUL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 Speaking for the second division of the 
 Southern Army, our first intimation of it 
 was at twilight, when the artillery were la- 
 boring in deep sand, most of the escort were 
 trying to help them out, and the main body 
 of the infantry had gone on. A Noah's ark 
 of elephants, camels, and the mixed me- 
 nagerie of an Indian transport train bub- 
 bled and squealed behind the guns, wher? 
 there appeared from nowhere in particular 
 British infantry to the extent of three com- 
 panies, who sprung to the heads of the gun 
 horses, and brought all to a stand-still amid 
 oaths and cheers. 
 
 '•How's that, umpire?" said the major 
 commanding the attack, and with one voice 
 the drivers and limber gunners answered, 
 " Hout!" while the colonel of artillery sput- 
 tered. 
 
 "All your scouts are charging our main 
 body," said the mnjor. " Your flanks are 
 unprotected for two miles. I think we've 
 broken the back of this division. And listen ! 
 there go the Ghoorkhas!" 
 
 A weak fire broke from the rear guard 
 more than a mile away, and was answered 
 by cheerful bowlings. The Ghoorkhas, who 
 should have swung clear of the second di- 
 vision, had stepped on its tail in the dark, 
 but, drawing off, hastened to reach the next 
 line, which lay almost parallel to us, five or 
 six miles away. 
 
 Our column swayed and surged irreso-
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 181 
 
 lutely — three batteries, the divisional am- 
 munition reserve, the baggage, and a section 
 of hospital and bearer corps. The com- 
 mandant ruefully promised to report him- 
 self "cut up " to the nearest umpire, and 
 commending his cavalry and all other cav- 
 alry to the care of Eblis, toiled on to resume 
 touch with the rest of the division. 
 
 " We'll bivouac here to-night," said the 
 major. " I have a notion that the Ghoork- 
 has will get caught. They may want us to 
 reform on. Stand easy till the transport 
 gets away." 
 
 A hand caught my beast's bridle and led 
 him out of the choking dust; a larger hand 
 deftly canted me out of the saddle, and two 
 of the hugest hands in the world received 
 me sliding. Pleasant is the lot of the spe- 
 cial correspondent who falls into such hands 
 as those of Privates Mulvaney, Ortheris and 
 Learoyd. 
 
 " An' that's all right," said the Irishman, 
 calml3% " We thought we'd find you some- 
 wheres here by. Is there anything of yours 
 in the transport? Orth'ris '11 fetch ut out." 
 
 Ortheris did " fetch ut out " from under 
 the trunk of an elephant, in the shape of 
 a servant and an animal, both laden with 
 medical comforts. The little man's eyes 
 sparkled. 
 
 " If the brutil an' licentious soldiery av 
 these parts gets sight av the thruck," said 
 Mulvaney, making practiced investigation,
 
 182 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 "they'll loot ev'rything. They're bein' fed 
 on iron-filin's an' dog biscuit these days, but 
 glory's no compensation for a bellyache. 
 Praise be, we're here to protect you, sorr. 
 Beer, sausage, bread (soft, an' that's a cur'- 
 osity), soup in a tin ; whisky by the smell 
 av ut, an' fowls. Mother av Moses, but ye 
 take the field like a confectioner! 'Tis 
 scand'lus." 
 
 " 'Ere's a orficer," said Ortheris, signifi- 
 cantly. '^ When the sarjint's done lushin', 
 the privit may clean the pot." 
 
 1 bundled several things into Mulvaney's 
 haversack before the major's hand fell on my 
 shoulder, and he said, tenderly : " Requisi- 
 tioned for the queen's service. Wolseley 
 was quite wrong about special correspond- 
 ents. They are the best friends of the sol- 
 dier. Come an' take pot-luck with us to- 
 night." 
 
 And so it happened amid laughter and 
 shoutings that my well-considered commis- 
 sariat melted away to reappear on the mess- 
 table, which was a water-proof sheet spread 
 on the ground. The flying column had taken 
 three days' rations with it, and there be few 
 things nastier than government rations — es- 
 pecially when government is experimenting 
 with German toys. Erbswurst, tinned beef, 
 of surpassing tinniness, compressed vegeta- 
 bles, and meat biscuits may be nourishing, 
 but what Thomas Atkins wants is bulk in his 
 inside. The major, assisted by his brother
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SIIADD. 183 
 
 officers, purchased goats for the camp, and 
 so made the experiment of no effect. Long 
 before the fatigue-party sent to collect 
 brushwood had returned the men were set- 
 tled down by their valises, kettles and pots 
 had appeared from the surrounding country, 
 and were dangling over fires as the kid and 
 the compressed vegetables bubbled together ; 
 then a cheerful clinking of mess tins, out- 
 rageous demands for " a little more stuffin'' 
 with that there liver wing," and gust on gust 
 of chaff as pointed as a bayonet and as deli- 
 cate as a gun-butt. 
 
 " The boys are in good temper," said the 
 major. "They'll be singing presently. Well, 
 a night like this is enough to keep them 
 happy." 
 
 Over our heads burned the wonderful 
 Indian stars, which are not all pricked in on 
 one plane, but preserving an orderly per- 
 spective, draw the eye through the velvet 
 darkness of the void up to the barred doors 
 of heaven itself. The earth was a gray 
 shadow more unreal than the sky. We 
 could hear her breathing lightl}'' in the 
 pauses between the howling of the jackals, 
 the movement of the wind in the tamarisks, 
 and the fitful mutter of musketry-fire leagues 
 away to the left. A native woman in some 
 unseen hut began to sing, the mail train 
 thundered past on its way to Delhi, and a 
 roosting crow cawed drowsily. Then there 
 was a belt-loosening silence about the fires,.
 
 184 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 and the even breathing of the crowded earth 
 took up tlie stor}\ 
 
 The men, full fed, turned to tobacco and 
 song — their officers with them. Happy is 
 the subaltern who can win the approval of 
 the musical critics in his regiment, and is 
 honored among the more intricate step 
 dancers. By him, as by him who plays 
 cricket craftily, will Thomas Atkins stand in 
 time of need when he will let a better officer 
 go on alone. The ruined tombs of forgotten 
 Mussulman saints heard the ballad of 
 "Agra Town," "The Buffalo Battery," 
 " Marching to Kabul," " The Long, Long In- 
 dian Day," "The Place Where the Punka 
 Coolie Died," and that crashing chorus 
 which announces 
 
 " Youth's daring spirit, manhood's fire, 
 Finn hand and eagle eye 
 Must he acquire who would aspire 
 To see the gray boar die." 
 
 To-day, of all those jovial thieves who ap- 
 propriated my commissariat, and lay and 
 laughed round that water-proof sheet, not 
 one remains. They went to camps that 
 were not of exercise and battles without um- 
 pires. Burma, the Soudan, and the frontier 
 fever and fight took them in their time. 
 
 I drifted across to the men's fires in search 
 of Mulvaney, whom I found strategically 
 greasing his feet by the blaze. There is
 
 THE COURII^G OF DJNAH SHADD. 185 
 
 nothing particularly lovely in the sight ot 
 a private thus engaged after a long day's 
 march, but when you reflect on the ex- 
 act portion of the "might, majesty, dominion, 
 and power" of the British Empire that 
 stands on those feet, you take an interest in 
 the proceedings. 
 
 "There's a blister — bad luck to ut! — on 
 me heel," said Mulvaney. " I can't touch 
 it. Prick ut out, little man." 
 
 Ortheris produced his housewife, eased 
 the trouble with a needle, stabbed Mulvaney 
 in the calf with the same weapon, and was 
 incontinently kicked into the fire. 
 
 " I've bruk the best av me toes over you, 
 ye grinnin' child av disruption !" said Mul- 
 vaney, sitting cross-legged and nursing his 
 feet; then, seeing me: "Oh, ut's you, sorr I 
 Be welkim, an' take that maraudin scutts' 
 place. Jock, hold him down on the cind- 
 hers for a bit." 
 
 But Ortheris escaped and went elsewhere 
 as I took possession of the hollow he had 
 scraped for himself and lined with his great- 
 coat. Learoyd, on the other side of the 
 fire, grinned affably, and in a minute fell 
 asleep. 
 
 " There's the height av politeness for 
 you," said Mulvaney, lighting his pipe with 
 a flaming branch. " But Jock's eaten half a 
 box av your sardines at wan gulp, an' I 
 think the tin too. What's the best wid 
 you, sorr ; an' how did you happen to be
 
 186 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 on the losin' side this day Avhen Ave cap- 
 tured you?" 
 
 " The Army of the South is winning all 
 along the line," I said. 
 
 '' Then that line's the hangman's rope, 
 savin' your presence. You'll learn to-mor- 
 row how we rethreated to dhraw thim on 
 before we made thim trouble, an' that's what 
 a woman does. By the same tokin, we'll be 
 attacked before the dawnin', an' ut would 
 be betther not to slip your boots. How do 
 I know that? By the light av pure reason. 
 Here are three companies av us ever so far 
 inside av the enemy's flank, an' a crowd av 
 roarin', t'arin', an' squealin' cavalry gone on 
 just to turn out the whole nest av thim. 
 Av course the enemy will pursue by bri- 
 gades like as not, an' then we'll have to run 
 for ut. Mark me words. I am av the opin- 
 ion av Polonius whin he said : ' Don't fight 
 wid ivry scutt for the pure joy av fightin'; 
 but if you do, knock the nose av him first 
 an' frequint!' We ought to ha' gone on an' 
 helped the Ghoorkhas." 
 
 "But what do you know about Polo- 
 nius ?" I demanded. This was a new side 
 of Mulvaney's character. 
 
 '' All that Shakespeare ever wrote, an' a 
 dale more than the gallery shouted," said 
 the man of war, carefully lacing his boots. 
 " Did I not tell you av Silver's Theatre in 
 Dublin whin I was j'ounger than I am now 
 an' a patron av the drama ? Ould Silver
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 187 
 
 wud never pay actor, man or woman, their 
 just dues, an' by consequence his comp'- 
 nies was collapsible at the last minut'. Then 
 the bhoys would clamor to take a part, an' 
 oft as not ould Silver made thim pay for the 
 fun. Faith, I've seen Hamlut played wid 
 a new black eye, an' the queen as full as a 
 cornucopia. I remember wanst Hogin,that 
 'listed in the Black Tyrone an' was shot in 
 South Africa, he sejuced ould Silver into 
 givin' him Hamlut's part instid av me, 
 that had a fine fancy for rhetoric in those 
 days. Av course I wint into the gallery an' 
 began to fill the pit wid other people's hats, 
 an' I passed the time av day to Hogin walk- 
 in' through Denmark like a hamstrung mule 
 wid a pall on his back. ' Hamlut,' sez I, 
 'there^s a hole in your heel. Pull up your 
 shtockins Hamlut,' sez 1. ' Hamlut, Ham- 
 lut, for the luv av decincy dhrop that skull 
 and pull up your shtockins.' The whole 
 house begun to tell him that. He stopped 
 hissoliloquishms mid between. ' My shtock- 
 ins may be comin' down or they may not,' 
 sez he, screwin' his eye into the gallery, for 
 well he knew who I was ; ' but afther the 
 performince is over me an' the Ghost '*il 
 trample the guts out av you, Terence, wid 
 your ass's bray.' An' that's how I come to 
 know about Hamlut. Eyah ! Those days, 
 those days ! Did you iver have onendin' 
 developmint an' nothin' to pay for it in. 
 your life, sor?"
 
 188 MULVANEi STORIES. 
 
 " Never without having to pay," I said. 
 
 " That's thrue. 'Tis mane, whin you con- 
 sidlier on ut ; but ut's the same wid horse 
 or fut. A headache if you dhrink, an* a 
 bellyache if you eat too much, an' a heart- 
 ache to kape it all down. Faith, the beast 
 only gets the colic, an' he's the lucky man." 
 
 He dropped his head and stared into the 
 fire, fingering his mustache the while. From 
 the far side of the bivouac the voice of Cor- 
 bet-Nolan, senior subaltern of B Company, 
 uplifted itself in an ancient and much-ap- 
 preciated song of sentiment, the men moan- 
 ing melodiously behind him : 
 
 " The north wind blew coldly, she drooped from that 
 hour, 
 My own little Kathleen, my sweet little Kathleen, 
 Kathleen, my Kathleen, Kathleen O' Moore !" 
 
 with forty-five o's in the last word. Even at 
 that distance you might have cut the soft 
 South Irish accent with a shovel. 
 
 " For all we take we must pay ; but the 
 price is cruel high," murmured Mulvaney 
 when the chorus had ceased. 
 
 "What's the trouble?" I said, gently, for 
 I knew that he was a man of an inextin- 
 guishable sorrow. 
 
 " Hear now," said he. " Ye know what 
 I am now. I know what I mint to be at the 
 beginnin' av me service. I've tould you 
 time an' again, an' what I have not, Dinah
 
 THE COVRTIXG OF DINAH SHADD. 189 
 
 Shadd has. An' what am I? Oh, Mary, 
 Mother av Hivin ! an ould dhrunken, un- 
 trustable baste av a privit that has seen the 
 rig'mint change out from colonel to drum- 
 mer-boy, not wanst er twicet, but scores av 
 times! Ay, scores! An' me not so near 
 gettin' promotion as in the furst. An' me 
 livin' on an' kapin' clear o' Clink not by me 
 own good conduck, but by the kindness av 
 some orficer — bhoy young enough to be son 
 to me! Do I not know ut? Can I not tell 
 whin I'm passed over at p'rade, tho' I'm 
 rockin' full av liquor an' ready to fall all in 
 wan piece, such as even a suckin' child 
 might see, bekaze, ' Oh, 'tis only ould Mul- 
 vaney 1' An' whin I'm let off in the ord'ly- 
 room, through some thrick av the tongue 
 an' a ready answer an' the ould man's mercy, 
 is ut smilin' I feel whin I fall away an' go 
 back to Dinah Shadd, thryin' to carry ut all 
 off as a joke? Not I. 'Tis hell to me — 
 dumb hell through ut all ; an' the next time 
 whin the fit comes I will be as bad again. 
 Good cause the rig'mint has to know me 
 for the best soldier in ut. Better cause have 
 I to know mesilf for the worst man. I'm 
 only fit to tache the new drafts what I'll 
 never learn mesilf; an' I am sure as tho' I 
 heard ut, that the minut wan av these pink- 
 eyed recruits gets away from me ' Mind ye, 
 now,' an' ' Listen to this, Jim, bhoy,' sure 
 I am that the serjint houlds me up to him 
 for a warnin'. So I tache, as they say at
 
 190 MUL VANE Y STORIES. 
 
 muskeiry instruction, by direct an' ricochet 
 fire. Lord be good to me ! for I have stud 
 some trouble." 
 
 " Lie down and go to sleep," said I, not 
 being able to comfort or advise. " You're 
 the best man in the regiment, and, next to 
 Ortheris, the biggest fool. Lie down, and 
 wait till we're attacked. What force will 
 they turn out? Guns, think you?" 
 
 " Thry that wid your lorrds, an' ladies, 
 twistin' an' turnin' the talk, tho' you mint 
 ut well. Ye cud say nothin' to help me ; an' 
 yet ye niver knew what cause I had to be 
 what I am." 
 
 '* Begin at the beginning and go on to the 
 end," I said, royally. " But rake up the fire 
 a bit first." I passed Ortheris's bayonet for 
 a poker. 
 
 " That shows how little you know what to 
 do," said Mulvaney, putting it aside. "Fire 
 takes all the heart out av the steel, an' the 
 next time, may be, that our little man is 
 fightin' for his life his brad-awl '11 break, an' 
 so you'll 'ave killed him, manin' no more 
 than to kape yourself warm. 'Tis a recruitie's 
 thrick that. Pass the cl'anin'-rod, sorr." 
 
 I snuggled down, abashed, and after an 
 interval the low, even voice of Mulvaney 
 began. 
 
 II. 
 
 " Did I ever tell you how Dinah Shadd 
 came to be wife av mine ?"
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 191 
 
 I dissembled a burning anxiety that I had 
 felt for some months— ever since Dinah 
 Shadd, the strong, the patient, and the in- 
 finitely tender, had, of her own good love 
 and free-will, washed a shirt for me, moving 
 in a barren land where washing was not. 
 
 " I can't remember," I said, casually. 
 " Was it before or after you made love to 
 Annie Bragin, and got no satisfaction ?" 
 
 The story of Annie Bragin is written in 
 another place. It is one of the many epi- 
 sodes in Mulvaney's checkered career. 
 
 " Before — before — long before was that 
 business av Annie Bragin an' the corp'ril's 
 ghost. Never woman was the worse for me 
 whin I had married Dinah. There's a time 
 for all things, an' I know how to kape all 
 things in place — barrin' the dhrink, that 
 kapes me in me place, wicl no hope av com- 
 in' to be aught else." 
 
 " Begin at the beginning," I insisted, 
 " Mrs Mulvaney told me that you married 
 her when you were quartered in Krab Bok- 
 har barracks." 
 
 " An' the same is a cess-pit," said Mul- 
 vaney, piously. " She spoke thrue, did 
 Dinah. 'Twas this way. Talkin' av that, 
 have ye iver fallen in love, sorr?" 
 
 I preserved the silence of the damned. 
 Mulvaney continued : 
 
 " Thin I will assume that ye have not. I 
 did. In the days av me youth, as I have 
 more than wanst tould you, I was a man
 
 192 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 that filled the eye an' delighted the sowl av 
 women. Niver man was hated as I have 
 been. Niver man was loved as I — no, not 
 within half a day's march av ut. For 
 the first five years av me service, when I 
 was what I wud give me sowl to be now, I 
 tuk whatever was within me reach an' di- 
 gested ut, an' that's more than most men 
 can say. Dhrink I tuk, an' ut did me no 
 harm. By the hollow av hivin, I could play 
 wid four women at wanst, an' kape them 
 from findin' out anything about the other 
 three, an' smile like a full-blown marigold 
 through ut all. Dick Coulhan, of the battery 
 we'll have down on us to-night, could dhrive 
 his team no better than I mine; an' I hild 
 the worse cattle. An' so I lived an' so I 
 was happy, till afther that business wid 
 Annie Bragin — she that turned me off as 
 cool as a meat-safe, an' taught where I stud 
 in the mind av an honest woman. 'Twas no 
 sweet dose to take. 
 
 " Afther that I sickened awhile, an' tuk 
 thought to me rig'mintal work, conceiting 
 mesilf I would study an' be a sarjint an' a 
 major-jineral twinty minutes afther that. But 
 on top o' me ambitiousness there was an' 
 empty place in me sowl, an' me own opinion 
 av mesilf cud not fill ut. Sez I to mesilf: 
 ' Terence, you're a great man an' the best set 
 up in the rig'mint. Go on an' get promotion.' 
 Sez mesilf to me, ' What for?' Sez I to me- 
 silf, ' For the glory av ut.' Sez mesilf to me,
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 193 
 
 ' AVill that fill these two strong arrunis av 
 yours, Terence ?' ' Go to the divil,' sez I to 
 mesilf. ' Go to the married lines,' sez mesilf 
 to me. ' 'Tis the same thing,' sez I to mesilf. 
 ' Av you're the same man, ut is,' sez mesilf 
 to me. An' wid that I eonsidhered on ut a 
 long while. Did you iver feel that way, 
 sorr?" 
 
 I snored gentl}^ knowing that if Mulvaney 
 were uninterrupted he would go on. The 
 clamor from the bivouac fires beat up to the 
 stars as the rival singers of the companies 
 were pitted against each other, 
 
 "So, I felt that way, an' bad time ut was. 
 Wanst, bein' a fool, I went into the married 
 lines, more for the sake av spakin' to our 
 ould color-sarjint Shadd than for any thruck 
 wid wimmen-folk. I was a corp'ril tlien — 
 rejuced aftherwards; but a corp'ril then. 
 I've got a photograft av mesilf to prove ut. 
 ' You'll take a cup av tay wid us ?' sez he. 
 'I will that,' I sez; 'tho' tay is not me 
 divarsion.' ' 'Twud be better for you if ut 
 were,' sez ould Mother Shadd. An' she had 
 ought to know, for Shadd, in the ind av his 
 service, dhrank bung- full each night. 
 
 " Wid that I tuk off me gloves — there was 
 pipe-clay in thim so that they stud alone — 
 an' pulled up me chair, lookin' at the china 
 ornamints an' bits av things in the Shadds* 
 quarters. They were thing? that belonged 
 to a woman, an' no camp kit, here to-day 
 an' dishipated next. 'You're comfortable 
 13
 
 194 MULVASEY STORIES. 
 
 in this place, serjint,' sez I. ''Tis the wife 
 that did ut, boy,' sez he, pointin' the stem 
 av his pipe to ould Mother Shadd, an' she 
 smacked the top av his bald head upon the 
 compliment. 'That manes you want 
 money,' sez she. 
 
 "An' thin — an' thin whin the kettle was 
 to be filled, Dinah came in — my Dinah — 
 her sleeves rowled up to the elbow, an' her 
 hair in a gowlden glory over her forehead, 
 the big blue eyes beneath twinklin' like 
 stars on a frosty night, an' the tread of her 
 two feet lighter than waste paper from the 
 colonel's basket in ord'ly-room when ut's 
 emptied. Bein' but a shlip av a girl, she 
 went pink at seein' me, an' I twisted me 
 mustache an' looked at a picture forninst the 
 wall. Never show a woman that ye care 
 the snap av a finger for her, an' begad she'll 
 come bleatin' to your boot-heels." 
 
 "I suppose that's why you followed 
 Annie Bragin till everybody in the married 
 quarters laughed at you," said I, remember- 
 ing that unhallowed wooing, and casting off 
 the disguise of drowsiness. 
 
 " I'm layin' down the gin'ral theory av 
 the attack," said Mulvaney, driving his foot 
 into the dying fire. ''If you read the 'Sol- 
 dier's Pocket-Book,' which never any soldier 
 reads, you'll see that there are exceptions. 
 When Dinah was out av the door (an' 'twas 
 as tho' the sunlight had gone too), ' Mother 
 av Hiven, serjint !' sez I, ' but is that your
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 195 
 
 daughter?' 'I've believed that way these 
 eighteen years,' sez oiild Shadd, his eyes 
 twinklin'. ' But Mrs. Shadd has her own 
 opinion, like ivry other woman.' ' 'Tis wid 
 yours this time, for a mericle,' sez Mother 
 Shadd. ' Then why, in the name av for- 
 tune, did I never see her before?' sez I. 
 ' Bekase you've been thraipsin' round wid 
 the married women these three years past. 
 She was a bit av a child till last year, an' 
 she shot up wid the spring,' sez ould Mother 
 Shadd. 'I'll thraipse no more,' sez I. 
 'D'ye mane that?' sez ould Mother Shadd, 
 lookin' at me sideways, like a hen looks at 
 a hawk whin the chickens are runnin' free. 
 'Thry me, an' tell,' sez I. Wid that I 
 pulled on me gloves, dhrank oft' the tea, 
 an' wint out av the house as stifi' as at gin'- 
 ral p'rade, for well I knew that Dinah 
 Shadd's eyes Avere in the small av me back 
 out av the scullery window. Faith, that 
 was the only time 1 mourned I was not a 
 cavalryman, for the sake av the spurs to 
 jingle. 
 
 " I wint out to think, an' I did a power- 
 ful lot av thinkin', but ut all came round to 
 that shlip av a girl in the dotted blue dhress, 
 wid the blue eyes an' the sparkil in them. 
 Thin I kept off canteen, an' I kept to the 
 married quarthers or near by on the chanst 
 av meetin' Dinah. Did I meet her? Oh, 
 me time past wid a lump in me throat as 
 big as me valise, an' me heart goin' like a
 
 196 M UL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 farrier's forge on a Saturday mornin' ! 
 'Twas 'Good-day to ye, Miss Dinah,' an' 
 ' Good-day t'you, corp'ril,' for a week or 
 two, an' divil a bit further could I get, be- 
 kaze av the respict I had to that girl that I 
 cud ha' broken betune finger an' thumb." 
 
 Here I giggled as I recalled the gigantic 
 figure of Dinah Shadd when she handed me 
 my shirt. 
 
 ■' Ye may laugh," grunted Mulvaney. 
 " But I'mspeakin'the trut', an' 'tis you that 
 are in fault. Dinah was a girl that wud ha' 
 taken the imperiousness out av the Duchess 
 av Clonmel in those days. Flower hand, 
 foot av shod air, an' the eyes av the mornin' 
 she had. That is me wife to-day — ould 
 Dinah, an' never aught else than Dinah 
 Shadd to me. 
 
 " 'Twas after three weeks standin off an' 
 niver makin' headway excipt through the 
 eyes, that a little drummer-boy grinned in 
 me face whin I had admonished him wid 
 the buckle av me belt for riotin' all over the 
 place. ' An' I'm not the only wan that 
 doesn't kape to the barricks,' sez he. I tuk 
 him by the scruff av his neck — me heart 
 was hung on a hair-th rigger those days, you 
 will understand — an', ' Out wid ut,' sez I, 
 ' or I'll lave no bone av you unbruk.* 
 ' Speak to Dempsey,' sez he, howlin'. 
 ' Dempsey which ?' sez I, ' ye unwashed 
 limb av Satan.' ' Of the Bobtailed Dhra- 
 goons,' sez he. ' He's seen her home from
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAU SHADD. 197 
 
 her aunt's house in the civil Hnes four times 
 this fortniglit.' HJhild,' sez I, dhroppin' 
 him, ' your tongue's stronger than your 
 body. Go to your quarters. I'm sorry I 
 dhressed you down.' 
 
 "At that I went four days to wanst hunt- 
 in' Dempsey. I was mad to think that wid 
 all me airs among women I shud ha' been 
 ch'ated by a basin-faced fool av a cav'lry- 
 man not fit to trust on a mule thrun'k. 
 Presintly I found him in our lines — the 
 Bobtails was quartered next us — an' a tal- 
 lowy, top-heavy son av a she mule he was, 
 wid his big brass spurs an' his plastrons on 
 his epigastons an' all. But he niver flinched 
 a hair. 
 
 "'A word wid you, Dempsey,' sez I. 
 ' You've walked wid Dinah Shadd four times 
 this fortnight gone.' 
 
 "'What's that to you?' sez he. 'I'll 
 walk forty times more, an' forty on top av 
 that, ye shovel-futted, clod-breakin' infantry 
 lance-corp'ril.' 
 
 " Before I could gyard he had his gloved 
 fist home on me cheek, an' down 1 went full 
 sprawl. 'Will that contint you?' sez he, 
 blowin' on his knuckles for all the world 
 like a Scots Grays orf'cer. ' Contint ?' sez I. 
 * For your own sake, man, take off your 
 spurs, peel your jackut, an' onglove. 'Tis 
 the beginnin' av the overture. Stand up!' 
 
 '' He stud all he knew, but he niver peeled 
 his jackut, an' his shoulders had no fair
 
 198 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 play. I was fightin' for Dinah Shade! an' 
 that cut on me cheek. What hope had he 
 forninstme? 'Stand up!' sez I, time an' 
 again, when he was beginnin' to quarter the 
 ground an' gyard high an' go large. ' This 
 isn't riding-school,' sez I. ' Oh, man, stand 
 up, an' let me get at ye !' But whin I saw 
 he wud be runnin' about, I grup his shtock 
 in me left an' his waist-belt in me right an' 
 swung him clear to me right front, head 
 undher, he hammerin' me nose till the wind 
 was knocked out av him on the bare ground, 
 'Stand up,' sez I, 'or I'll kick your head 
 into your chist.' An' I wud ha' done ut, 
 too, so ragin' mad I was. 
 
 " ' Me collar-bone's bruk,' sez he. ' Help 
 me back to lines. I'll walk wid her no 
 more.' So I helped him back." 
 
 "And was his collar-bone broken?" I 
 asked, for I fancied that only Learoyd could 
 neatly accomplish that terrible throw. 
 
 " lie pitclied on his left shoulder-point. 
 It was. Next day the news was in botli 
 barricks ; an' whin I met Dinah Shadd wid 
 a cheek like all the rig'mintal tailors' sam- 
 ples, there was no 'Good-mornin', corp'ril,' 
 or aught else. ' An' what have I done, Miss 
 Shadd,' sez I, very bould, plantin' mesilf 
 forninst her, ' that ye should not pass the 
 time of day?' 
 
 '' ' Ye've half killed rough-rider Demp- 
 pey,' sez she, her dear blue eyes fillin' up. 
 
 '" ' May be,' sez I. ' Was he a friend av
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 199 
 
 yours that saw you home four times in a 
 fortnight ?' 
 
 " ' Yes,' sez she, very bould ; but lier 
 mouth was down at the corners. ' An' — 
 an' what's that to you?' 
 
 " ' Ask Dempsey,' sez I, purtendin' to go 
 away. 
 
 " ' Did you fight for me then, ye silly 
 man?' she sez, tho' she knew ut all along. 
 
 " ' Who else?' sez I ; an' I tuk one pace to 
 the front. 
 
 " ' I wasn't worth ut,' sez she, fingerin' her 
 apron. 
 
 "'That's for me to say,' sez I. ' Shall I 
 say ut ?' 
 
 " ' Yes,' sez she, in a saint's whisper; an' at 
 that I explained mesilf ; an' she tould me 
 that ivry man that is a man, an' many that 
 is a woman, hears wanst in his life. 
 
 '' ' But what made.ye cry at stattin', Dinah 
 darlin'?' sez I. 
 
 " ' Your — your bloody cheek,' sez she, 
 duckin' her little head down on me sash (I 
 was duty for the day), an' whimperin' like a 
 sorrowful angel. 
 
 " Now a man cud take that two ways. I 
 tuk ut as pleased me best, an' my first kiss 
 wid ut. Mother av Innocence! but I kissed 
 her on the tip av the nose an' undher the 
 eye, an' a girl that let's a kiss come tumble- 
 ways like that has never been kissed before. 
 Take note av that, sorr. Thin we wint, 
 hand in hand, to ould Mother Shadd ''Up
 
 200 3WL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 two little childher, an' she said it was no bad 
 thing; an' ould Shadd nodded behind his 
 pipe, an' Dinah ran away to her own room. 
 That day I throd on rollin' clouds. All 
 earth was too small to hould me. Begad, I 
 cud ha' picked the sun out av the sky for a 
 live coal to me pipe, so magnificent I was. 
 But I tuk recruities at squad drill, an' began 
 with general battalion advance whin I shud 
 ha' been balance-steppin' 'em. Eyah ! that 
 day ! that day !" 
 
 A very long pause. " Well ?" said I. 
 
 " It was all wrong," said IVIulvaney, with 
 an enormous sigli. " An' sure I know that 
 ev'ry bit av ut was me own foolishness. 
 That night I tuk maybe the half av three 
 pints — not enough to turn the hair av a man 
 in his natural sinses. But I was more than 
 half dhrunk wid pure joy, an' that canteen 
 beer was so mucli whisky to me. I can't 
 tell how ut came about, but beknse I had no 
 thought for any wan except Dinah, bekase I 
 hadn't slipped her little white arms from 
 me neck five minutes, bekase the breath av 
 her kiss was not gone from me mouth, I 
 must go through the married lines on me 
 way to quarthers, an' I must stay talkin' to 
 a red-headed Mullengar heifer av a girl, Judy 
 Sheehy, that was daughter to Mother 
 Sheehy, the wife av Nick Sheehy, the can- 
 teen serjint — the black curse av Shiel3'gh be 
 on the whole brood that are above groun' 
 this dav!
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 201 
 
 "'An' what are ye houldin' your head 
 that high for, corp'ril,' sez Judy. ' Come in 
 an' thry a cup av tay,' she sez, standin' in 
 the doorway. 
 
 " Bein' an onbustable fool, an' thinkin' 
 av anythin' but tay, I wint. 
 
 " ' Mother's at canteen,' sez Judy, smooth- 
 in' the hair av hers that was like red snakes, 
 an' lookin' at me corner-ways out av her 
 green cat's eyes. 'Ye will not mind, corp'ril?' 
 
 "'I can endure,' sez I. 'Ould Mother 
 Sheehy bein' no divarsion av mine, nor her 
 daughter too.' Judy fetched the tay-things 
 an' put thim on the table, leanin' over me 
 very close to get them square. I dhrew 
 back, thinkin' of Dinah. 
 
 '"Is ut afraid you are av a girl alone?' 
 sez Judy. 
 
 " ' No,' sez I. ' Why should I be ?' 
 
 '"That rests wid the girl,' sez Judy, 
 dhrawin' her chair next to mine. 
 
 " ' Thin there let ut rest,' sez I; an' think- 
 in' I'd been a trifle onpolite, I sez, 'The 
 tay's not quite sweet enough for me taste. 
 Put your little finger in the cup, Judy ; 'twill 
 make ut necthar.' 
 
 '" What's necthar?' sez she. 
 
 " ' Somethin' very sweet,' sez I ; an' for the 
 sinful life av me I cud not help lookin' at 
 her out av the corner av me eye, as I was 
 used to look at a woman. 
 
 " ' Go on wid ye, corp'ril,' sez she. ' You're 
 a flirt.'
 
 202 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 " ' On me sowl I'm not,' sez I. 
 
 "'Then you're a cruel handsome man^ 
 an' that's worse,' sez she, heavin' big sighs 
 an' lookin' crossways. 
 
 " ' You know your own mind,' sez I. 
 
 " ' 'Twud be better for me if I did not,' sea 
 she. 
 
 " ' There's a dale to be said on both sides 
 av that,' sez I, unthinkin'. 
 
 " ' Say your own part av that, then, Ter- 
 ence darlin',' sez she; ' for begad I'm think- 
 in' I've said too much or too little for an 
 honest girl ;' an' wid that she put her arms 
 round me neck an' kissed me. 
 
 " ' There's no more to be said after that,' 
 sez I, kissin' her back again. Oh, the mane 
 scut that I was, me head ringin' wid Dinah 
 Shadd! How does ut come about, sorr^ 
 that whin a man has put the comether on 
 wan woman he's sure bound to put ut on 
 another? 'Tis the same thing at musketr}^ 
 Wan day ev'ry shot goes wide or into the 
 bank, an' the next — lay high, lay low, sight 
 or snap — ye can't get off the bull's-eye for 
 ten shots runnin'." 
 
 " That only happens to a man who has 
 had a good deal of experience ; he does it 
 without thinking," I replied. 
 
 "Thankin'you for the compliment, sorr, 
 ut may be so; but I'm doubtin' whether 
 you mint ut for a compliment. Hear now. I 
 sat there wid Judy on me knee, tellin' me all 
 manner av nonsinse, an' sayin' ' yes ' an'
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 203 
 
 ' no,' when I'd much better ha' kept tongue 
 betune teeth. An' that was not an hour 
 afther I had left Dinah. What I was think- 
 in' av I can not say. 
 
 "Prisently, quiet as a cat, ould Mother 
 Sheehy came in velvet-dhrunk. She had 
 her daughter's red-hair, but 'twas bald in 
 patches, an' I cud see in her wicked ould 
 face, clear as lightnin', what Judy wud be 
 twenty year to come. I was for jumpin' up, 
 but Judy niver moved. 
 
 "'Terence has promust, mother,' sez she, 
 an' the cowld sweat bruk out all over me. 
 
 " Ould Mother Sheehy sat down of a heap, 
 an' began play in' wid the cups. ' Thin 
 you're a well-matched pair,' she sez very 
 thick; 'for he's the biggest rogue that iver 
 spoiled the queen's shoe-leather, an' — ' 
 
 " ' I'm off, Judy,' sez I. ' You should not 
 talk nonsinse to your mother. Get her to 
 bed, girl.' 
 
 "'Nonsinse?' sez the ould woman, prick- 
 in' up her ears like a cat, an' grippin' the 
 table-edge. 'Twill be the most nonsinsical 
 nonsinse for you, ye grinnin' badger, if non- 
 sinse 'tis. Git clear, vou. I'm goin' to 
 bed.' 
 
 " I ran out into the dhark, me head in a 
 stew' an' me heart sick, but I had sinse 
 enough to see that I'd brought ut all on me- 
 silf. ' It's this to pass the time av day to a 
 panjandhrum of hell-cats,' sez I. ' What 
 I've said an' what I've not said do not
 
 204 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 matther. Judy an' her dam will hould me 
 for a promust man, an' Dinah will give me 
 the go, an' I desarve ut. I will go an' get 
 dhrunk,' sez I, ' an' forgit about ut, for 'tis 
 plain I'm not a marryin' man.' 
 
 " On me way to canteen I ran against 
 Lascelles, color-sarjint that was, av E Com- 
 p'ny — a hard, hard man, wid a tormint av a 
 wife. ' You've the head av a drowned man 
 on your shoulders,' sez he, ' an' you're goin' 
 where j'ou'll get a worse wan. Come back,' 
 sez he. ' Let me go,' sez I. ' I've thrown 
 me luk over the wall wid me own hand. 
 'Then that's not the way to get ut back 
 again,' sez he. ' Have out wid your throu- 
 ble, yefool-bhoy.' An' I tould him how the 
 matther was. 
 
 "He sucked in his lower lip. 'You've 
 been thrapped,' sez he. ' JuSheedy wud be 
 the betther for a man's name to hers as soon 
 as she can. An' ye thought ye'd put the 
 comether on her. That's the naturil vanity 
 av the baste. Terence, you're a big born 
 fool, but you're not bad enough to marry 
 into that comp'ny. If you said any thin,' 
 an' for all your protestations I'm sure you 
 did — or did not, which is worse — eat ut all. 
 Lie like the father av all lies, but come out 
 of ut free av Judy. Do I not know whatut 
 is to marry a woman that was the very spit 
 av Judy when she was young? I'm gettin' 
 ould, and I've larnt patience; but you, Ter- 
 ence, you'd raise hand on Judy an' kill her
 
 THE COURTiya OF DINAH SHADD. 205 
 
 in a year. Never mind if Dinali gives you 
 the »o ; you desarved ut. Never mind if the 
 ■\\'hole rig'mint laughs at jon all day. Get 
 shut av Judy an' her mother. They can't 
 dhrag you to church, but if they do, they'll 
 dhrag you to hell. Go back to your quar- 
 thers an' lie down,'sez he. Thin, over his 
 shoulder, ' You must ha' done with thim.' 
 
 " Nixtday I wintto see Dinah ; but there 
 was no tucker in me as I walked. I knew 
 the throuble wud come soon enough wid- 
 out any handlin' av mine, an' I dreaded ut 
 sore. 
 
 '' I heard Judy callin' me, but I hild 
 straight on to the Shadds' quarthers, an' 
 Dinah wud ha' kissed me, but I hild lier 
 back. 
 
 " ' Whin all's said, darlin',' sez I, ' you can 
 give ut me if you will, tho' I misdoubt 'twill 
 be so easy to come by thin.' 
 
 " I had scarce begun to put the explana- 
 tion into shape before Judy and her mother 
 came to the door, I think there was a ve- 
 randa, but I'm forgettin'. 
 
 "' Will ye not step in?' sez Dinah, pretty 
 an' polite, tho' the Shadds had no dealin's 
 with the Sheehys. Old Mother Shadd 
 looked up quick, and she was the fust to see 
 the throuble, for Dinah was her daughter. 
 
 " ' I'm pressed for time to-day,' sez Judy, 
 as bould as brass ; ' an' I've only come for 
 Terence, my promust man. 'Tis strange to 
 find him here the day afther the day.'
 
 206 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 " Dinah looked at me as though I had hit 
 her, an' I answered straight. 
 
 " ' There was some nonsinse last night at 
 the Sheehys' quarthers, an' Judy's carryin' 
 on the joke, darlin',' sez I, 
 
 " ' At the Sheehys' quarthers ?' sez Dinah, 
 very slow ; an' Judy cut in wid : 
 
 "' He was there from nine till tin, Dinah 
 Shadd, an' the betther half av that time I 
 was sittin' on his knee, Dinah Shadd. Ye 
 may look an' ye may look an' ye may look 
 me up an' down, but ye won't look away 
 that Terence is me promust man. Terence 
 darlin', 'tis time for us to be comin' home.' 
 
 " Dinah Shadd never said word to Judy. 
 ' Ye left me at half-past eight,' she sez to me, 
 ' an' I niver thought that ye'd leave me for 
 Judy, promises or no promises. Go back 
 wid her, you that have to be fetched by a 
 girl ! I'm done wid you,' sez she ; an' she 
 ran into her own room, her mother followin'. 
 So I was alone with those two women, an' at 
 liberty to spake me sintiments, 
 
 "'Judy Sheehy,' sez I, 'if you made a 
 fool av me betune the lights you shall not 
 do ut in the day. I never promised you 
 words or lines.' 
 
 " ' You lie,' sez ould Mother Sheehy ; ' an' 
 may ut choke you where you stand !' She 
 was far gone in dhrink. 
 
 "•An' tho' ut choked me where I stud 
 I'd not change,' sez I. ' Go home, Judy. I 
 take shame for a dacint girl like you dhrag-
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 207 
 
 gin' your mother out bareheaded on this er- 
 rand. Here, now, an' have ut for an answer. 
 I gave me word to Dinah Shadd yesterday, 
 an' more blame to me I was with you last 
 night talkin' nonsinse, but nothin' more. 
 You've chosen to thry to hould me on ut. 
 I w411 not be held thereby for anythin' in 
 the world. Is that enough ?' 
 
 '' Judy wint pink all over. ' An' I wish 
 you joy av the perjury,' sez she. 'You've 
 lost a woman that would ha' wore her hand 
 to the bone for your pleasure ; an' 'deed, Ter- 
 ence, ye were not thrapped. . . .' Lascelles 
 must ha' spoken plain to her. ' I am such 
 as Dinah is — 'deed I am ! Ye've lost a fool 
 av a girl that '11 never look at you again, an' 
 ye've lost what ye niver had — your common 
 honesty. If you manage your men as you 
 manage your love-makin', small wonder they 
 call you the worst corp'ril in the comp'ny. 
 Come away, mother,' sez she. 
 
 "Butdivil a fut would the ould woman 
 budge! ' D'you hould by that?' sez she, 
 peerin' up under her thick gray eyebrows. 
 
 '"Ay, an' wud,' said I, tho' Dinah gave 
 me the go twinty times. ' I'll have no thruck 
 with you or yours,' sez I. ' Take your child 
 away, ye shameless woman.' 
 
 " ' An' am I shameless?' sez she, bringin' 
 her hands up above her head. ' Thin what 
 are you, ye lyin', schamin', week-kneed, 
 dhirty-souled son of a sutler ? Am / shame- 
 less ? Who put the^ open shame on me an'
 
 208 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 me child that we shud go beggin' through 
 the lines in daylight for the broken word of 
 a man ? Double portion of me shame be 
 upon you, Terence Mulvaney, that think 
 yersilf so strong ! By Mary an' the saints, 
 by blood an' water, an' b}'- ivry sorrow 
 that came into the world since the be- 
 ginnin', the black blight fall on you an' 
 yours, so that ye may niver be free from 
 jDain for another when ut's not your own ! 
 May your heart bleed in your breast drop 
 by drop wid all your friends laughin' at the 
 bieedin' ! Strong you think yourself? May 
 your strength be a curse to you to dhrive 
 you into the divil's hands against your own 
 will! Clear-eyed you are? May your eyes 
 see clear ivry step av the dark path you 
 take till the hot cinders av hell put thiui 
 oui! May the ragin' dry thirst in me own 
 ould bones go to you that you shall never 
 pass "bottle full nor glass empty ! God pre- 
 serve the light av your onderstandin' to 
 you, me jewel av a bhoy, that ye may niver 
 forget what you mint to be an' do, when 
 you're wallowin' in the muck I May ye see 
 the betther an' follow the worse as long as 
 there's breath in your body ! an' may ye die 
 quick in a strange land watchin'your death 
 before ut takes you an' onable to stir hand 
 or foot!' 
 
 " I lizard a scufflin' in the room behind, 
 an' thin Dinah Shadd's hand dhropped into 
 mine like a rose-leaf into a muddy road. 

 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 209 
 
 " ' The half av that I'll take,' sez she, ' an' 
 more too, if I can. Go home, ye silly-talkin' 
 woman — go home an' confess.' 
 
 " ' Come away ! Come away !' sez Judy, 
 piillin' her mother l)y the shawl. ' 'Twas 
 none av Terence's fault. For the love av 
 Mary stop the talkin' !' 
 
 " ' An' you !' said ould INIother Sheehy, 
 spinnin' round forninst Dinah. 'Will ye 
 take the half av that man's load? Stand 
 off from him, Dinah Shadd, before he takes 
 you down too — you. that look to be a quar- 
 thermaster-serjint's wife in five years. Ye 
 look too high, child. Ye shall wash for the 
 quarthermaster-sarjint, whin he pl'ases to 
 give you the job out av charity; but a pri- 
 vit's wife ye shall be to the end. an' ivry 
 sorrow of a privit's wife ye shall know, an' 
 niver a joy but wan, that shall go from you 
 like the tide from a rock. The pain of 
 bearin' ye shall know, but niver the pleasure 
 of givin' the breast; an' you shall put away 
 a man-child into the common ground wid 
 niver a priest to say a prayer over him, an' 
 on that man child ye shall think ivry day av 
 your life. Think long, Dinah Shadd, for 
 you'll niver have another tho' you pray till 
 your knees are bleedin'. The mothers av 
 children shall mock you behind your back 
 whin you're wringin' over the wash-tub. You 
 shall know what ut is to take a dhrunken 
 husband home an' see him go to the gyard- 
 room. Will that pl'ase you, Dinah Shadd, 
 14
 
 21D MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 that won't be seen talkin' to me daughter? 
 You shall talk to worse than Judy before 
 all's over. The sarjints' wives shall look 
 down on you, contemptuous daughter av a 
 sarjint, an' you shall cover ut all up wid a 
 smilin' face whin your heart's burstin'. 
 Stand off him, Dinah Shadd, for I've put the 
 black curse of Shielygh upon him, an' his 
 own mouth shall make ut good.' 
 
 "She pitched forward on her head an' 
 began foamin' at the mouth. Dinah Shadd 
 ran out wid water, and Judy d bragged the 
 ould woman into the veranda till she sat up. 
 
 " ' I'm old an' forelore,' she sez, tremblin' 
 an' cry in', 'an' 'tis like I say a dale more 
 than I mane.' 
 
 " ' When you're able to walk — go,' says 
 ould Mother Shadd. ' This house has no 
 place for the likes av you, that have cursed 
 me daughter.' 
 
 "'Eyah!' said the ould Avoman. 'Hard 
 words break no bones, an' Dinah Shadd '11 
 kape the love av her husband till me bones 
 are green corn. Judy, darlin', I misremem- 
 ber what I came here for. Can j^ou lend 
 us the bottom av a tav-cup av tay, Mrs. 
 Shadd?' 
 
 "But Judy dhragged her off, cryin'as tho' 
 her heart would break. An' Dinah Shadd 
 an' I, in ten minutes we had forgot ut all." 
 
 "Then why do you remember it now?" 
 said I. 
 
 " Is ut like I'd forgit ? Ivry word thaj
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 211 
 
 wicked oukl woman spoke fell thrue in me 
 life aftherwards ; an' I cud ha' stud ut all — 
 stud ut all, except fwhen little Shadd was 
 born. That was on the line av march 
 three months afther the rig'mint was taken 
 with cholera. We were betune Umballa an' 
 Kalka thin, an' I was on picket. When I 
 came off', the women showed me the child, 
 an' it turned on ut's side an' died as I looked. 
 We buried him l)y the road, an' Father Vic- 
 tor was a day's march behind wid the heavy 
 baggage, so the comp'ny captain read a 
 prayer. An' since then I've been a child- 
 less man, an' all else that oukl Mother 
 Sheehy put upon me an' Dinah Shadd. 
 What do you think, sorr?" 
 
 I thought a good deal, l)ut it seemed bet- 
 ter then to reach out for Mulvaney's hand. 
 This demonstration nearly cost me the use 
 of three fingers. Whatever he knows of his 
 weaknesses, Mulvaney is entirely ignorant 
 of his strength. 
 
 " But what do you think ?" he insisted, as 
 I was straightening out the crushed member. 
 
 My reply was drowned in yells and out- 
 cries from the next fire, where ten men were 
 shouting for " Orth'ris !'' " Privit Orth'ris!" 
 " Mistah Or-ther-ris !" " Deah bov !" " Cap'n 
 Orth'ris!" "Field-Marshal Orth'ris!" "Stan- 
 ley, you penn'orth o' pop, come 'ere to your 
 own comp'ny!" And the cockney, who had 
 been delighting another audience with re- 
 condite and Rabelaisian yarns, was shot
 
 212 MULVANEV STORIES. 
 
 down among his admirers by the major 
 force. 
 
 "You've crumpled my dress-shirt 'orrid," 
 said he ; " an' I sha'n't sing no more to this 
 'ere bloomin' drawin'-room." 
 
 Learoyd, roused by the confusion, un- 
 coiled himself, crept behind Ortheris, and 
 raised him aloft on his shoulders. 
 
 "Sing, ye bloomin' hummin'-bird !" said 
 he ; and Ortheris, beating time on Learoyd's 
 skull, delivered himself, in the raucous 
 voice of the Ratcliff'e Highway, of the follow- 
 ing chaste and touching ditty : 
 
 " My Rirl she give me the go oncet, 
 
 When I was a London lad, 
 An' I went on the drink for a fortnight, 
 
 An' then I went to the had. 
 The queen she give rae a shillin', 
 
 To fight for 'er over the seas ; 
 But guv'ment huilt me a fever-trap, 
 
 An' Injia give me disease. 
 
 Chorus. — " Ho ! don't you 'eed what a girl says, 
 An' don't you go for the beer ; 
 But I was an ass when I was at grass, 
 An' that is why I'm 'ere. 
 
 " I fired a shot at an Afghan ; 
 
 The beggar 'e fired again ; 
 An' I lay on my l)ed with a 'ole in my 'ead, 
 
 An' missed the next campaign ! 
 I up with my gun at a Burman 
 
 Who carried a bloomin' dah, 
 But the cartridge stuck an' the bay' nit bruk, 
 
 An' all I got was the scar.
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 213 
 
 Chorus. — " Ho ! don't you aim at a Afghan 
 
 When you stand on the sky-line clear; 
 An' don't you go for a Burnian 
 If none o' your friends is near. 
 
 "I served my time for a corp'ral, 
 An' wetted my stripes with pop, 
 For I went on the bend with a intimate 
 friend, 
 An' finished the night in the Shop. 
 I served my time for a sergeant ; 
 
 The colonel 'e sez ' No ! 
 The most you'll be is a full C. B.';* 
 An' — very next night 'twas so. 
 
 Chorus. — "Ho ! don't you go for a corp'ral, 
 Unless your 'ead is clear ; 
 But I was an ass when I was at grass, 
 An' that is why I'm 'ere. 
 
 " I've tasted the luck o' the army 
 In barrack an' camp an' clink, 
 An' I lost my tip through the bloomin' 
 trip 
 Along o' the women an' drink. 
 I'm down at tlie heel o' my service, 
 An' when I am laid on the shelf. 
 My very wust friend from beginning to end, 
 By the blood of a mouse, was myself. 
 
 Chorus. — "Ho ! don't you 'eed what a girl says, 
 • An' don't you go for the beer ; 
 
 But I was an ass wben I was at grass, 
 An' that is why I'm 'ere." 
 
 "Ay, listen to our little man, now, singin' 
 an'shoutin' as tho' trouble had never touched 
 
 * Confined to barracks.
 
 214 MUL VA XE Y STORIES. 
 
 him ! D'you remiraber when he went mad 
 with homesickness?" said ^Nlulvaney, recall- 
 ing a never-to-be-forgotten season when 
 Ortheris waded through the deep waters of 
 affliction and behaved abominably. " But 
 he's talkin' the bitter truth, tho'. Eyah! 
 
 " Me very worst friend from beginning to end, 
 By the blood of a mouse, was mesilf.' 
 
 Harkout!" he continued, jumping to his 
 feet. " What did I tell you, sorr ?" 
 
 Fttl! spttl! whttl! went the rifles of the 
 picket in the darkness, and we heard their 
 feet rushing toward us as Ortheris tumbled 
 past me and into his great-coat. It is an 
 impressive thing, even in peace, to see an 
 armed camp spring to life with clatter of 
 accouterraents, click of Martini levers, and 
 blood-curdling speculations as to the fote of 
 missing boots. " Pickets dhriven in," said 
 Mulvaney, staring like a buckatbay into the 
 soft, clinging gloom. "Stand by an' kape 
 close to us. If 'tis cav'lry, they may blun- 
 dher into the fires." 
 
 Tr — ra — ra! — ta-^a — la! sung the thrice- 
 blessed bugle, and the rush to form square 
 began. There is much rest and peace in the 
 heart of a square if you arrive in time, and 
 are not trodden upon too frequently. The 
 smell of leather belts, fatigue uniform, and 
 packed humanity is comforting. 
 
 A dull grumble, that seemed to come
 
 THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD. 215 
 
 from every point of the compass at once, 
 struck our listening ears, and little thrills 
 of excitement ran down the faces of the 
 square. Those who write so learnedly about 
 judging distance by sound should hear cav- 
 alry on the move at night. A high-pitched 
 yell on the left told us that thedisturbers were 
 friends — the cavalry of the attack, who had 
 missed their direction in the darkness, and 
 were feeling blindly for some sort of sup- 
 port and camping-ground. The difficulty 
 explained, they jingled on. 
 
 " Double ])ickets out there; by your arms 
 lie down and sleep the rest," said the major, 
 and the square melted away as the men 
 scrambled for their places by the fires. 
 
 When I woke I saw Mulvaney. the night- 
 dew gemming his mustache, leaning on his 
 rifle at picket, lonely as Prometheus on his 
 rock, with I know not what vultures tearing 
 his liver.
 
 THE BIG DRUNK DRAF'. 
 
 "We're goin' 'ome, we're goin' ome — 
 
 Our ship is at the shore, 
 An' you mus' pack your 'aversack, 
 
 For vre won't come back no more. 
 Ho, don't yon grieve for me, 
 
 My lovely Mary Ann, 
 For I'll marry you yet on afourp'ny bit, 
 
 As a time-expired ma a an ! 
 
 Barrack-room Ballad. 
 
 An awful tiling has happened ! My 
 friend, Private Mulvaney, who went home 
 in the "Serapis,'' time-expired, not very 
 long ago, has come back to India as a civil- 
 ian ! It was all Dinah Shadd's fault. She 
 could not stand the poky little lodgings, 
 and she missed her servant Abdullah more 
 than words could tell. The fact was that 
 the Mulvaneys had been out here too long, 
 and had lost touch of England. 
 
 Mulvaney knew a contractor on one of 
 the new Central India lines, and wrote to 
 him for some sort of work. The contractor 
 said that if Mulvaney could pay the passage 
 he would give him command of a gang of 
 coolies for old sake's sake. The pay was 
 eighty-five rupees a month, and Dinah 
 Shadd said that if Terence did not accept 
 ( 216 )
 
 THE BIG DRUNK DEAF' 217 
 
 she would make his hfe a "blasted purga- 
 thory." Therefore the Mulvaneys came out 
 as ''civilians," which was a great and terri- 
 ble fall; though Mulvaney tried to disguise 
 it, by saying that he was " ker'nel on the 
 railway line, an' a consequinshal man." 
 
 He wrote me an invitation, on a tool-in- 
 dent form, to visit him ; and I came down 
 to the funny little " construction " bungalow 
 at the side of the line. Dinah Shadd had 
 planted pease about and about, and nature 
 had spread all manner of green stuff round 
 the place. There was no change in INIulva- 
 ney except the change of raiment, which 
 was deplorable, but could not be helped. 
 He was standing upon his trolly, harang- 
 uing a gang-man, and his shoulders were as 
 well drilled, and his big, thick chin was as 
 clean-shaven as ever. 
 
 " I'm a civilian now," said Mulvaney. 
 " Cud you tell that I was Iver a martial 
 man? Don't answer, sorr, av you're strain- 
 in' betune a complimint an' a lie. There's 
 no houldin' Dinah Shadd now she's got a 
 house av her own. Go inside an' dhrink tay 
 out av chiny in the drrrrawin'-room, an' 
 thin we'll drink like Christians undher the 
 tree here. Scut, ye naygur-folk ! There's 
 a sahib come to call on me, an' tliat's more 
 than he'll iver do for you onless you run ! 
 Get out, an' go on pilin' up the earth, quick, 
 till sundown." 
 
 When we three were comfortably settled
 
 218 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 under the big sisham in front of the bunga- 
 low, and the first rush of questions and 
 answers about Privates Ortheris and Lea- 
 royd and old times and places had died 
 away, Mulvane.y said, reflectively : " Glory 
 be there's no p'rade to-morrow, and no bun- 
 headed corp'ril-bhoy to give you his lip. 
 An' yit I don't know. 'Tis hard to be some- 
 thing ye niver were an' niver meant to be, 
 an' all the ould days shut up along wid 
 your papers. Eyah! I'm growin' rusty, 
 an' 'tis the will av God that a man mustn't 
 serve his quane for time an' all." 
 
 He helped himself to a fresh peg, and 
 sighed furiously. 
 
 "Let your beard grow, Mulvaney," said 
 I, '' and then you won't be troubled with 
 those notions. You'll be a real civilian." 
 
 Dinah Shadd had confided to me in the 
 drawing-room her desire to coax Mulvaney 
 into letting his beard grow. " 'Twas so 
 civilian-like," said poor Dinah, who hated 
 her husband's hankering for his old life. 
 
 " Dinah Shadd, you're a dishgrace to an 
 honust, clane-scraped man !" said Mulvaney, 
 without replying to me. ''Grow a beard on 
 your own chin, darlint, and lave me razors 
 alon',\ They're all that stand betune me 
 and disris-pect-ability. Av I didn't shave, 
 I wud be torminted wid an outrajis thurrst; 
 for there's nothin' so dhryin' to the throat 
 as a big billy-goat waggin' undher the chin. 
 Ye wuldn't have me dhrink always, Dinah
 
 TEE BIG DRUNK DRAP'. 219 
 
 /Bhadd ? By the same token, you're kapin' 
 me crool dhry. Let me look at that whisky." 
 
 The whisky was lent and returned, but 
 Dinah Shadd, who had been just as eager as 
 her husband in asking after old friends, rent 
 me with : 
 
 " I take shame for you, sorr, comin' down 
 here — though the saints know you're as 
 welkim as the daylight whin you do come — 
 an' upsettin' Terence's head wid your non- 
 sense about — about fwhat's much better 
 forgotten. He bein' a civilian now, an' you 
 niver was aught else. Can you not let the 
 army rest? 'Tis not good for Terence." 
 
 I took refuge by Mulvaney, for Dinah 
 Shadd has a temper of her own. 
 
 " Let be— let be," said Mulvaney. " 'Tis 
 only wanst in a way I can talk about the 
 old days." Then to me: "Ye say Dhrum- 
 shticks is well, an' his lady tu ? I niver 
 knew how I liked the gray garron till I was 
 shut av him an' Asia." ("Dhrumshticks" 
 was the nickname of the colonel command- 
 ing IMulvaney's old regiment.) " W ill ye 
 be seein' him again? You will. Thin tell 
 him" — Mulvaney's eves began to twinkle 
 —"tell hira wid Privit"— 
 
 " Mister, Terence," interrupted Dinah 
 Shadd. 
 
 " Now the divil an' all his angels an' the 
 firmament av hiven fly away wid the ' Mis- 
 ter,' an' the sin av makin' me swear be on 
 your own confession, Dinah Shadd ! Privit,
 
 220 MULVANEY STORIES. 
 
 I tell ye. Wid Privit Mulvaney's best obe- 
 dience, that but for me the last time-expired 
 wud be still pullin' hair on their way to the 
 sea." 
 
 He threw himself back in the chair, 
 chuckled, and was silent. 
 
 " Mrs. Mulvaney," I said, " please take up 
 the whisky, and don't let him have it until 
 he has told the story." 
 
 Dinah Shadd dexterously whipped the 
 bottle away, saying at the same time, " 'Tis 
 nothing to be proud av," and thus captured 
 by the enemy, Mulvaney spake: 
 
 " 'Twas on Chuseday week. I was behad- 
 erin' round wid the gangs on the 'bankmint 
 — I've taught the hoppers how to kape step 
 an' stop screechin' — whin a head gang-man 
 comes up to me, wid about twoinches avshirt- 
 tail hangin' round his neck an' a disthressful 
 light in his oi. 'Sahib,' sez he, 'there's a 
 rig' mint an' a half av soldiers up at the 
 junction, knockin' red cinders out av ivry- 
 thing an' ivrybody ! They thried to hang 
 me in me cloth,' he sez, 'an' there will be 
 murder an' ruin an' rape in the place before 
 nightfall! They say they're comin' down 
 here to wake us up. What will we do wid 
 our women-folk?' 
 
 '" Fetch me throlly !' sez I ; 'me heart's 
 sick in me ribs for a wink at anything wid 
 the quane's uniform on ut. Fetch me 
 throlly, an' six of the jildiest men, an' run 
 me up in shtyle.' "
 
 THE BIG DRUNK DEAF'. 221 
 
 " He tuk his best coat," said Dinah Shadd 
 reproachfully. 
 
 " 'Twas to do honor to the widdy. I cud 
 ha' done no less, Dinah Shadd. You and 
 your digreshins interfere wid the coorse av 
 the narrative. Have you iver considhered 
 fwhat I wud look like wid me head shaved 
 as well as nie chin ? You bear that in 
 mind, Dinah darlin'. 
 
 " I was throllied up six miles, all to get a 
 squint 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. 
 
 " \\'hin I was about three quarters av a 
 mile oft' the rest-camp, powtherin' along fit to 
 burrst, I heard the noise av the men, an', on 
 mesowl, sorr, I cud catch the voice av Peg 
 Barney bellowin' like a bison wid the belly- 
 ache. You remimber Peg Barney that was in 
 D Comp'ny — a red, hairy scraun, wid a scar 
 on his jaw? Peg Barney that cleared out 
 the Blue Lights' Jubilee meeting wid the 
 cook-room mop last year? 
 
 "Thin I knew ut was a draf of the ould 
 rig'mint, an' I was conshumed wid sorrow 
 for the bhoy that was in charge. We was 
 harrd scrapin's at any time. Did I iver tell 
 you how Horker Kelley went into clink 
 nakid as Phoebus Apollonius, wid the shirts 
 av the corp'ril an' file undher his arrum? 
 An' he was a moild man ! But I'm digresh-
 
 222 MUL VANEY STORIES. 
 
 in'. 'Tis a shame both to the rig' mints an' 
 the arnny sendin' down little orf cer bhoys 
 wid a draf av strong men mad wid liquor 
 an' the chanst av gettin' shut av India, an' 
 niver a punishment that's fit to be given 
 right down an' away from cantonmints to 
 the dock ! 'Tis this nonsince. Whin I am 
 servin' me time, I'm undher the articles av 
 war, an' can be whipped on the peg for them. 
 But whin I served me time, I'm a Reserve 
 man, an' the articles av war haven't any 
 hould on me. An' orf cer can't do anythin' 
 to a time-expired savin' confinin' him to 
 barricks. 'Tis a wise rig'lation, bekaze a 
 time-expired does not have any barricks, 
 bein' on the move all the time. 'Tis a Solo- 
 mon av a rig'lation, is that. I wud like to 
 be inthroduced to the man who secreted ut. 
 'Tis easier to get colts from a Kibbereen 
 horse-fair into Galway than to take a bad 
 draf over tin miles av country. Consi- 
 quintly that rig'lation for fear that the men 
 wad be hurt by the little orf'cer boy. No 
 matther. The nearer me throlly came to 
 the rest-camp, the woilder was the shine, 
 an' the louder was the voice av Peg Barney. 
 ' 'Tis good I am here,' thinks I to meself, 
 ' for Peg alone is employmint to two or 
 three.' He bein', I well knew, as copped as 
 a dhrover. 
 
 " Faith, that rest-camp was a sight! The 
 tent-ropes was all skew nosed, an' the pegs 
 looked as dhrunk as the mer^fifty av thim
 
 THE BIG DRUNK DRAF\ 223 
 
 — thescourin's an' rinsin's an' divil's lavin's 
 av the ould rig'mint. I tell you, sorr, they 
 were dhrunker than any men you've ever 
 seen in your mortial life. How does a draf 
 get dhrunk ? How does a frog get fat? 
 They suk ut in through their shkins. 
 
 " There was Peg Barney sittin' on the 
 groun' in his shirt — wan shoe off an' wan 
 shoe on — whackin' a tent-peg over the head 
 wid his boot, an' singin' fit to wake the 
 dead. 'Twas no clane song that he sung, 
 though. 'Twas the ' Divil's Mass.' " 
 
 " What's that ?" I asked. 
 
 '' Whin a bad egg is shut av the arrmy,he 
 sings the ' Divil's Mass ' for a good rid- 
 dance; an' that means swearin' at ivrything 
 from the commandher-in-chief down to the 
 room-corp'ril, such as you niver in 3-our days 
 heard. Some men can swear to make green 
 turf crack! Have you iver heard the curse 
 in an Orange lodge? The ' Divil's Mass' is 
 tin times worse, an' Peg Barney was singin' 
 ut, whackin' the tent-peg on the head wid 
 his boot for each man that he cursed. A 
 powerful big voice had Peg Barney, an' a 
 hard swearer he was whin sober. I stood 
 forninst him, an' 'twas not me oi alone that 
 cud tell Peg was dhrunk as a coot. 
 
 "'Good-mornin', Peg,' sez I, whin he 
 dhrew breath afther cursin' the adj'tint- 
 gin'ral ; 'I've put on me best coat to see 
 you, Peg Barney,' sez I. 
 
 " ' Thm take lit off again,' sez Peg Barney,
 
 224 MULVANEY sTOhlES. 
 
 latherin' away wid tlie boot; 'take ut off 
 an' dance, ye lousy civilian !' 
 
 " Wid that he begins cursin' ould Dhrum- 
 shticks, being so full he clean niisremimbers 
 the brigade-major an' the judge advokit 
 giii'ral. 
 
 "'Do you not know me, Peg?' sez I, 
 though me blood was hot in me wid being 
 called a civilian." 
 
 "An' him a decent married man!" wailed 
 Dinah Shadd. 
 
 " ' I do not,' s<'z Peg, ' but dhrunk or sober 
 I'll tear the hide off your back wid a shovel 
 whin I've stopped singin'.' 
 
 "'Say you so. Peg Barney?' sez I. "Tis 
 clear as mud you've ibrgotten me. I'll as- 
 sist your autobiogra])hy.' Wid that I 
 stretched Peg Barney, boot an' all, an' wint 
 into the camp. An awful sight ut was ! 
 
 " ' Where's the orfcer in charge av the de- 
 tachment?' sez I to Scrub Greene — the 
 manest little worm that ever walked. 
 
 "'There's no orfcer, ye ould cook,' sez 
 Scrub; ' we're a bloomin' republic' 
 
 "'Are you that?' sez I; 'thin I'm O'Con- 
 nell the Dictator, an' by this you will lam 
 to kape a civil tongue in your rag-box.' 
 
 " Wid that I stretched Scrub Greene an' 
 wint to the orf cer's tent. Twas a new little 
 bhoy — not Avan I'd iver seen before. He 
 was'sittin' in his tent, purtendin' not to 'ave 
 ear av the racket. 
 
 " I saluted — but for the life av me I mint
 
 THE BIG DRUNK DRAF'. 225 
 
 to shake hands whin I wint in. 'Twas the 
 sword hangin' on the tent-pole changed me 
 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 me orf cer,' sez I ; an' I 
 tould him fwhat me service was. 
 
 " ' I've heard av you,' sez he. ' You tuk 
 the town of Lungtungpen nakid.' 
 
 "'Faith,' thinks I, 'that's honor 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 prisince, sorr,' I 
 sez, ' 'tis only Ijift'nint Hackerston in the 
 ould rig'mint can manage a home draf'.' 
 
 '" I've never had charge of men like this 
 before,' sez he, playin' Avid the pens on the 
 table; 'an' I see by the rig'lations — ' 
 
 '"Shut your oi to the rig'lations, sorr,' I 
 sez, ' till the throoper's into blue wather. By 
 the rig'lations you've got to tuck thim up 
 for the night, or they'll be runnin' foul av 
 me coolies an' makin' a shiverarium half 
 through the country. Can you trust your 
 non-coms, sorr?' 
 o u I Yes,' sez he. 
 
 " * Good,' sez I ; * there'll be throuble be- 
 fore the night. Are you marchin', sorr ?" 
 
 " ' To the next station,' sez he. 
 Ii» '
 
 226 M UL VA NE Y S TORIES. 
 
 " ' Better still,' sez I ; ' there'll be big throu- 
 ble.' 
 
 " ' Can't be too hard on a home draf',' sez 
 he; 'the great thing is to get thim in-ship.' 
 
 " * Faith, you' ve larnt the half av your les- 
 son, sorr,' sez I, ' but av you shtick to the 
 rig'lations you'll niver get thim in-ship at 
 all, at all. Or there won't be a rag av kit 
 betune thim whin you do.' 
 
 " 'Twas a dear little orf cor bhoy, an' by 
 way av kapin' his heart up, I tould him 
 fwhat I saw wanst in a draf in Egypt." 
 
 " What was that, Mulvaney ?" said I. 
 
 " 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 tlie orfcer boy woild wid indigna- 
 tion. 
 
 " ' Soft an'aisy, sorr,' sez I ; ' you've niver 
 had your draf in hand since you left can- 
 tonmints. Wait till the night, an' your 
 work will be ready to you. Wid your per- 
 mission, sorr, I will investigate the camp, 
 an' talk to me ould frins. 'Tis no manner 
 av use thryin' to shtop the divilmint now.' 
 
 " Wid that I wint out into the camp an' 
 inthrojuced mesilf to ivry man sober enough 
 to remimber me. I was some wan in the 
 ould days, an' the bhoys was glad to see me 
 — all excipt Peg Barney, wid a eye like a 
 ♦«mato five days in the bazaar, an' a nos?
 
 THE BIG DEUNK DEAF'. 227 
 
 to correspon'. They come round me an' 
 shuk me, an' I tould thim I was in privit 
 employ wid an income av me own, an* a 
 drrrawin'-room fit to bate the quane's ; an' 
 wid me lies an' me shtories an' nonsince 
 gin'rally I kept 'em quiet in wan way an' 
 another, knockin' foun' the camp. 'Twas 
 bad even thin whin I was the Angel av 
 Peace. 
 
 " 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 and 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 bestav things. 
 I've shut me eyes to a dale av dog's trick 
 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, ye are,' sez Peg 
 Barney, an' at that the men in the tentbegcai 
 to laugh. 
 
 " I tould ye me orfcer bhoy had bowils. 
 He cut Peg Barney as near as might be on 
 the oi that I'd squashed whin we first met. 
 Peg wint spinnin' acrost the tent. 
 
 " ' Peg him out, sorr,' pez I, in a whishper.
 
 228 3IULVANEY STORIEU 
 
 " ' Peg him out !' sez me ori'eer bhoy, up 
 loud, just as if 'twas battalion p'rade, an' he 
 pickin' his "wurruds from the saijint. 
 
 " The non-coms tuk Peg Barney — a how- 
 lin' handful he was — an' in three minuts he 
 was pegged out — chin down, tight-drawn — 
 on his stummick, a peg to each arm an' leg, 
 swearin' fit to turn a naygur white. 
 
 " I tuk a peg an' jammed ut into his ugly 
 jaw. ' Bite on that, Peg Barney,' I sez- '. ' the 
 night is settin' frosty, an' you'll be wantin' 
 divarsion before the mornin'. But for the 
 rig'lations you'd be bitin' on a bullet now 
 at the thriangles. Peg Barney,' sez I. 
 
 " All the draf was out av their tents 
 watchin' Barney bein' pegged. 
 
 " ' 'Tis ag'in the rig'lations ! He strook 
 him !' screeches out Scrub Greene, who was 
 always a lawyer ; an' some av the men tuk 
 up the shoutin'. 
 
 " ' Peg out that man !' sez me orf cer bhoy, 
 niver losin' his timper; an' the non-coms 
 went in an' pegged out Scrub Greene by 
 the side av Peg Barney. 
 
 " I could see that the draf was comin' 
 roun'. The men stud, not knowin' fwhat 
 to do. 
 
 " ' Get to your tents !' sez me orf'cer bhoy. 
 'Sarjint, put a sintry over these two men.' 
 
 " The men wint back into the tents like 
 jackals, an' the rest av the night there was 
 no noise at all excipt the stip av the sintry 
 over the two, an' Scrub Greene blubberin'
 
 THE BIG DRUNK DEAF'. 229 
 
 like a child. 'Twas a chill}' night, an' faith 
 ut sobered Peg Barney. 
 
 " Just before revelly, me orf'cer bhoy 
 comes out an' sez : 'Loose those men an' 
 sind 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 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' could I hear. 
 
 "I wint to the ould color-sarjint an' I 
 sez, ' Let me die in glory,' sez I. ' I've 
 seen a man this day !' 
 
 '"A man he is,' sez ould Mother; '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 canton mi?Tt 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 ? That 
 bhoy, so I was tould by letters from Bom- 
 bay, bullydamned 'em down to the dock, 
 till they cudn't call their sowls their own. 
 From the time they left me oi till they was 
 'tween decks, not wan av thim was more 
 than dacintly dhrunk. 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 fjo
 
 2^0 MULVAXEY STORIES. 
 
 tliat little orf'cer bhoy. He has bowils. 
 'Tisnot ivry child that wud chuck the rig'la- 
 tions to Flanders an' stretch Peg Barney on 
 a wink from a broken an' dilapidated ould 
 carkiss like mesilf. I'd be proud to serve — " 
 
 " Terence, you're a civilian," said Dinah 
 Shadd, warningly. 
 
 " So I am — so I am. Is ut likely I wud 
 forget ut? But he was a gran' bhoy, all the 
 same, an' I'm only a mudtipper wid a hod 
 on me shoulthers. The whisky 'sin the heel 
 av your hand, sorr. Wid your good lave 
 we'll dhrink to the ould rig'mint — three 
 fingers — standin' up !" 
 
 And we drank.
 
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 ... 34 Christmas Carol, A. Dickens. 
 ... 35 Confessions of an Opium Eater. De 
 
 Quincy. 
 ... 36 Cranford. Gaskell. 
 ... 37 Cricket on the Hearth. Dickens. 
 ... 38 Crown of Wild Olive, The. Ruskin. 
 ... 39 Comedy of Errors. Shakespeare. 
 ... 40 Crucifixion of Philip Strong. Sheldon, 
 ... 43 Day Breaketh, The. Shugert. 
 ... 44 Days with Sir Roger De Coverley. 
 
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 ... 45 Discourses, Epictetus. 
 ... 46 Dog of Flanders, A. Ouida. 
 ... 47 Dream Life. Mitchell. 
 ... 48 Daily Food for Christians. 
 ... 49 Drummond's Addresses. 
 ... 51 Emerson's Essays, First Series. 
 ... 52 Emerson's Essays, Second Series. 
 ... 53 Endymion. Keats. 
 ... 54 Essays of Elia. Lamb. 
 ... 55 Ethics of the Dust. Ruskin. 
 ... 56 Evangeline. Lo7ig fellow.
 
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 ... 62 Fanchon. Sand. 
 
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 ... 69 Gulliver's Travels. Swift. 
 
 ... 70 Gold Dust. 
 
 ... 73 Hamlet. Shakespeare. 
 
 ... 74 Hania. Sienkiewicz. 
 
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 ... 76 Heroes and Hero Worship. Carlyle. 
 
 ... 77 Hiawatha, The Song of. Longfellow. 
 
 ... 78 Holmes' Poems. 
 
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 ... 80 House of the Wolf. Weyman. 
 
 ... 81 Hyperion. Longfellow. 
 
 ... 87 Idle Thoughts of an Idle Fellow, ferome. 
 
 ... 88 Idylls of the King. Tennyson. 
 
 ... 89 Impregnable Rock of Holy Scripture. 
 
 Gladstone. 
 ... 90 In Black and White. Kipling. 
 ... 91 In Memoriam. Tennyso7i. 
 ... 92 Imitation of Christ. A' Kempis. 
 ... 93 in His Steps. Sheldon. 
 ... 95 Julius Caesar. Shakespeare. 
 ... 96 Jessica's First Prayer. Strctton. 
 ... 97 J. Cole. Gellibrand. 
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 ... 99 John Ploughman's Talk. Spurgeon. 
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 ...102 Kidnapped. Stevenson. 
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 18 Longfellow's Poems, Vol. 11. 
 
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 21 Line Upon Line. 
 
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 32 Minister of the World, A. Mason. 
 
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 34 Mulvaney Stories. Kipling. 
 
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 40 Natural Law in the Spiritual World. 
 
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 45 Old Christmas. Irving.
 
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 53 Peter Schlemihl. Chamisso. 
 
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 55 Pilgrim's Progress, The. Bunyan, 
 
 56 Plain Tales from the Hills. Kipling. 
 
 57 Pleasures of Life. Lubbock. 
 
 58 Plutarch's Lives. 
 
 59 Poe's Poems. 
 
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 61 Princess and Maud. Tennyson. 
 
 62 Prue and !. Curtis. 
 
 63 Peep of Day. 
 
 64 Precept Upon Precept. 
 
 69 Queen of the Air. Ruskin. 
 72 Rab and His Friends. Brown, 
 -jl Representative Men, E-merson. 
 
 74 Reveries of a Bachelor. Mitchell. 
 
 75 Rip Van Winkle. Irving. 
 
 76 Romance of a Poor Young Man. Feuillet. 
 
 77 Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. 
 
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 79 Robert Hardy's Seven Days. Sheldon. 
 
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 83 Sartor Resartus. Carlyle. 
 
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 85 School for Scandal. Sheridan. 
 
 86 Sentimental Journey, A. Sterne. 
 
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 88 Shakespeare's Heroines. Jaineson. 
 
 89 She Stoops to Conquer. Goldsmith.
 
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 ...201 Tartarin of Tarascon. Daudet. 
 ...202 Tartarin on the Alps. Daudet. 
 ...203 Ten Nights in a Bar-Room. Arthur. 
 ...204 Things Will Take a Turn. Harraden. 
 ...205 Thoughts. Marcus Aurelius. 
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 ...20-J Tom Brown's School Days. Hughes. 
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 ...209 Tv/ice Told Tales. Hawthorne. 
 ...210 Two Years Before the Mast. Dana. 
 ...211 The Merchant of Venice. Shakespeare. 
 ...212 The Merry Wives of Windsor. 
 
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 ...217 Uncle Tom's Cabin. Stowe. 
 ...218 Undine. Fouque. 
 ...222 Vic, the autobiography of a fox=terrier. 
 
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 ...223 Vicar of Wakefield. Goldsmith. 
 ...226 Walden. Thoreau. 
 ...227 Water=8abies. Kingsley. 
 ...226 Weird Taies. Poe. 
 ...229 What is Art. Tolstoi. 
 ...230 Whittier's Poems, Vol. I. 
 ...231 Whittier's Poems, Vol. II. 
 ...232 Window in Thrums. Barrie. 
 ...233 Women's V/ork in the Home. Farrar. 
 ...234 Wonder Book, A. Haivthorne. 
 ...241 YeBlowph!sh Papers, The, Thackeray. 
 ...244 2oe. By author of Laddie^ etc.
 
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