Can you tell me how it is done?"
"Whist, ye oncivilised, backslidhering pagin!" said my friend, Private
O'RAMMIS, for it was indeed he. "Hould on there till I've tould ye.
Fwhat was I sayin'? Eyah, eyah, them was the bhoys for the dhrink.
When the sun kem out wid a blink in his oi, an' the belly-band av his
new shoot tied round him, there was PORTERS and ATHUS lyin' mixed up
wid the brandy-kegs, and the houl of the rigimint tearin' round like
all the divils from hell bruk loose.
"Thin I knew there'd be thrubble, for ye must know, Sorr, there was a
little orf'cer bhoy cryin' as tho' his little heart was breakin', an'
the Colonel's wife's sister, wid her minowderin' voice--"
"Look here, O'RAMMIS," I said, "I don't like to stop you; but isn't it
just a trifle rash--I mean," I added hastily, for I saw him fingering
his bayonet, "is it quite as wise as it might be to use up all your
materials at once? Besides, I seem to have met that little Orf'cer
bhoy and the Colonel's wife's sister before. I merely mention it as
a friend."
"You let 'im go, Sir," put in PORTERS, with his cockney accent. "Lor,
Sir, TERENCE knows bloomin' well wot 'e's torkin' about, an' wen
'e's got a story to tell you know there ain't one o' us wot'll get a
bloomin' word in; or leastways, Hi carn't."
"Sitha," added JOCK ATHUS.
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