me that Bragin could take hould av to be angry wid her about--whin an
honust wurrd cud ha' cleared all up. There's nothing like opin-speakin'.
Orth'ris, ye scutt, let me put me oi to that bottle, for my throat's
as dhry 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 Uhlanen
Sit round mit open mouth
While Breitmann tell dem stdories
Of fightin' 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.
_Hans Breitmann's Ballads._

'Mary, Mother av Mercy, fwhat the divil possist us to take an' kape
this melancolious counthry? Answer me that, Sorr.'

It was Mulvaney who was speaking. The time was one o'clock of a stifling
June night, and the place was the main gate of Fort Amara, most desolate
and least desirable of all fortresses in India. What I was doing there
at that hour is a question which only concerns M'Grath, the Sergeant
of the Guard, and the men on the gate.