'Praise the Virgin!' murmured Dinah Shadd. But Mulvaney did not hear.

'Whin I was about three-quarters av a mile off the rest-camp, powtherin'
along fit to burrst, I heard the noise av the men an', on my sowl,
Sorr, I cud catch the voice av Peg Barney bellowin' like a bison wid
the belly-ache. You remimber Peg Barney that was in D Comp'ny--a red,
hairy scraun, wid a scar on his jaw? Peg Barney that cleared out the
Blue Lights' Jubilee meeting wid the cook-room mop last year?

'Thin I knew ut was a draf of the ould rig'mint, an' I was conshumed
wid sorrow for the bhoy that was in charge. We was harrd scrapin's at
any time. Did I iver tell you how Horker Kelley went into clink nakid
as Phoebus Apollonius, wid the shirts av the Corp'ril an' file undher
his arrum? An' _he_ was a moild man! But I'm digreshin'. 'Tis a shame
both to the rig'mints and the Arrmy sendin' down little orf'cer bhoys
wid a draf av strong men mad wid liquor an' the chanst av gettin' shut
av India, an' _niver a punishment that's fit to be _given right down
an' away from cantonmints to the dock!_ 'Tis this nonsince. Whin I am
servin' my time, I'm undher the Articles av War, an' can be whipped
on the peg for _thim_. But whin I've _served_ my time, I'm a Reserve
man, an' the Articles av War haven't any hould on me. An orf'cer _can't_
do anythin' to a time-expired savin' confinin' him to barricks. 'Tis
a wise rig'lation bekaze a time-expired does _not_ have any barricks;
bein' on the move all the time. 'Tis a Solomon av a rig'lation, is
that. I wud like to be inthroduced to the man that made ut. 'Tis easier
to get colts from a Kibbereen horse-fair into Galway than to take a
bad draf' over ten miles av country. Consiquintly that rig'lation--for
fear that the men wud be hurt by the little orf'cer bhoy. No matther.
The nearer my throlly came to the rest-camp, the woilder was the shine,
an' the louder was the voice av Peg Barney. "'Tis good I am here,"