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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 butchers' steel 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?'

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A comp'ny av Her Majesty's Black Tyrone an' wan av the Ould Rig'mint,' sez Crook, very quiet, givin' our visitors the flure as 'twas.

"Oh!' sez the Staff Orf'cer; 'did you dislodge that Reserve?'

"No!' sez Crook, an' the Tyrone laughed.

"Thin fwhat the divil have ye done?'

"Distroyed 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 misfortune does this parrit widout a tail mane by shtoppin' the road av his betthers?'

"The Staff Orf'cer wint blue, an' Toomey makes him pink by changin' to the voice av a minowderin' woman an' sayin' :Come an' kiss me, Major dear, for me husband's at the wars, an' I'm all alone at the Depot.'

"The Staff Orf'cer wint away, an' I cud see Crook's shoulthers shakin'.

"His Corp'ril checks Toomey. 6 Lave me alone,' sez Toomey, widout a wink. I was his bâtman before he was married an' he knows fwhat I mane, av you don't. There's nothin' like livin' in the hoight of society.' D'you remimber 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 "GUARRD, TURN OUT!"

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The Relief had come; it was four o'clock. "I'll catch a kyart for you, Sorr," said Mulvaney, diving hastily into his accouterments. "Come up to the top av the Fort an' we'll pershue our invistigations into McGrath'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! "loody war! North, East, South, and West."

"Amen," said Learoyd slowly.

"Fwhat's here?" said Mulvaney, 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 McTaggart 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 moaned in her sleep. "See there!" said Mulvaney; "poor lamb! Look at the heat-rash on the innocint skin av her. 'Tis hard Fwhat must it be for these? will be woild about you.

into the ditch!"

crool hard even for us. Wake up, Nonie, your mother Begad, the child might ha' fallen

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 Mulvaney, clear as a lark, dancing the baby on his arm, —

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"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 my sowl, Nonie," he said gravely,

"there

was not much cloak about you. Niver mind, you won't dhress like this ten years to come. your mother."

Kiss your friends an' run along to

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. Ortheris wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and swore sentimentally; Learoyd turned pink; and the two walked away together. 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 was taking his cartridge down to the Morning Gun. "You're over merry 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 swimmingbath.

"Oh, Terence!" I said, dropping into Mulvaney's speech, when we were alone, "it's you that have the 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 blandandhered thim through the night somehow, but can thim that helps others help thimselves? Answer me that, Sorr!" And over the bastions of Fort Amara broke the pitiless day.

PRELUDE.

(From "Departmental Ditties.")

I HAVE eaten your bread and salt,
I have drunk your water and wine,
The deaths ye died I have watched beside,
And the lives that ye led were mine.

Was there aught that I did not share
In vigil or toil or ease,

One joy or woe that I did not know,
Dear hearts across the seas?

I have written the tale of our life
For a sheltered people's mirth,
In jesting guise- but ye are wise,
And ye know what the jest is worth.

GENERAL SUMMARY.

We are very slightly changed
From the semi-apes who ranged
India's prehistoric clay;
Whoso drew the longest bow,
Ran his brother down, you know,
As we run men down to-day.
"Dowb," the first of all his race,
Met the Mammoth face to face
On the lake or in the cave,
Stole the steadiest canoe,

Ate the quarry others slew,

Died- and took the finest grave.

When they scratched the reindeer-bone,
Someone made the sketch his own,

Filched it from the artist-then,

Even in those early days,
Won a simple Viceroy's praise
Through the toil of other men.

Ere they hewed the Sphinx's visage
Favoritism governed kissage,

Even as it does in this age.

Who shall doubt the secret hid

Under Cheops' pyramid

Was that the contractor did

Cheops out of several millions?

Or that Joseph's sudden rise

To Comptroller of Supplies
Was a fraud of monstrous size

On King Pharaoh's swart Civilians ?

Thus, the artless songs I sing
Do not deal with anything
New or never said before.
As it was in the beginning,
Is to-day official sinning,
And shall be for evermore.

DANNY DEEVER.

(From "Barrack-Room Ballads.")

"WHAT are the bugles blowin' for?" said Files-on-Parade. "To turn you out, to turn you out," the Color-Sergeant said. "What makes you look so white, so white?" said Files-on-Parade. "I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch," the Color-Sergeant said.

For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can 'ear the Dead March
play,

The regiment's in 'ollow square- they're hangin' him to-day;
They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away,
An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

"What makes the rear-rank breathe so 'ard?" said Files-on-Parade. "It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold," the Color-Sergeant said.

"What makes that front-rank man fall down?" said Files-on

Parade.

A touch of sun, a touch of sun," the Color-Sergeant said.

They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are marchin' of 'im round,
They 'ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is coffin on the ground;
An' 'e'll swing in 'arf a minute for a sneakin', shootin' hound-
O they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'!

"'Is cot was right-'and cot to mine," said Files-on-Parade. "'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night," the Color-Sergeant said. "I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times," said Files-on-Parade. "'E's drinkin' bitter beer alone," the Color-Sergeant said.

They are hangin' Danny Deever, you must mark 'im to 'is place, For 'e shot a comrade sleepin' — you must look 'im in the face; Nine 'undred of 'is country an' the regiment's disgrace, While they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'. "What's that so black agin the sun?" said Files-on-Parade. "It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life," the Color-Sergeant said. "What's that that whimpers over'ead?" said Files-on-Parade. "It's Danny's soul that's passin' now," the Color-Sergeant said. For they're done with Danny Deever, you can 'ear the quickstep play,

The regiment's in column, an' they're marchin' us away;

Ho! the young recruits are shakin', an' they'll want their beer

to-day,

After hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

"TOMMY."

I WENT into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,

The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no redcoats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again, an' to myself sez I:

O it's Tommy this, and Tommy that, an' "Tommy go
away";

But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins," when the band
begins to play,

The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins," when the band begins

to play.

I went into a theater as sober as could be,

They give a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;

They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,

But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls. For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy wait.

outside";

But it's "Special train for Atkins," when the trooper's on

the tide,

The troopship's on the tide, my boys, etc.

O makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;

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