' He was a bhoy
wid bowils, that child, an' a rale gintleman.
"'Sit down,' sez he.
"'Not before my orf'cer,' sez I; an' I tould him fwhat my service
was.
"'I've heard av you,' sez he. 'You tuk the town av Lungtungpen
nakid.'
"'Faith,' thinks I, 'that's Honour an' Glory'; for 'twas Lift'nint
Brazenose did that job. 'I'm wid ye, Sorr,' sez I, 'if I'm av use.
They shud niver ha' sent you down wid the draf'. Savin' your
presince, Sorr,' I sez, ''tis only Lift'nint Hackerston in the
Ould Rig'mint can manage a Home draf'.'
"'I've niver had charge of men like this before,' sez he, playin'
wid 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 my coolies
an' makin' a shiverarium half through the counthry. Can you trust
your noncoms, Sorr?'
"'Yes,' sez he.
"'Good,' sez I; 'there'll be throuble before the night. Are you
marchin', Sorr?'
"'To the next station,' sez he.
"'Betther still,' sez I; 'there'll be big throuble.'
"'Can't be too hard on a Home draf,' sez he; 'the great thing is
to get thim in-ship.
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