"'It's honour, mother!--It's honour, brother!--Honour bright, my own
Kathleen!'

"Although the poor fellow was a private, this appeal was so public, that
I did not hesitate to go down and inquire into the particulars of the
distress. It appeared that he had been home, on furlough, to visit his
family,--and having exceeded, as he thought, the term of his leave, he
was going to rejoin his regiment, and to undergo the penalty of his
neglect. I asked him when the furlough expired?

"'The first of March, your honour--bad luck to it of all the black days
in the world--and here it is, come sudden on me, like a shot!'

"'The first of March!--why, my good fellow, you have a day to spare
then--the first of March will not be here till to-morrow. It is Leap
Year, and February has twenty-nine days.'

"The soldier was thunder-struck.--'Twenty-nine days is it?--you're
sartin of that same! Oh, mother, mother!--the devil fly away wid yere
ould almanack--a base cratur of a book, to be deceaven one, afther
living so long in the family of us!'

"His first impulse was to cut a caper on the roof of the coach, and
throw up his cap with a loud hurrah! His second was to throw himself
into the arms of his Kathleen; and the third was to wring my hand off in
acknowledgment.

"'It's a happy man I am, your honour, for my word's saved, and all by
your honour's manes. Long life to your honour for the same! May ye live
a long hundred--and lape-years every one of them.'"