the rig'mint. I was told off for to shif' the scenes, haulin' up this
an' draggin' down that. Light work ut was, wid lashins av beer and the
gurl that dhressed the orf'cers' ladies--but she died in Aggra twelve
years gone, an' my tongue's gettin' the betther av me. They was actin'
a play thing called _Sweethearts_, which you may ha' heard av, an' the
Colonel's daughter she was a lady's maid. The Capt'n was a boy called
Broom--Spread Broom was his name in the play. Thin I saw --ut come
out in the actin'--fwhat I niver saw before, an' that was that he was
no gentleman. They was too much together, thim two, a-whishperin'
behind the scenes I shifted, an' some av what they said I heard; for
I was death--blue death an' ivy--on the comb-cuttin'. He was
iverlastin'ly oppressing her to fall in wid some sneakin' schame av
his, an' she was thryin' to stand out against him, but not as though
she was set in her will. I wonder now in thim days that my ears did
not grow a yard on me head wid list'nin'. But I looked straight forninst
me an' hauled up this an' dragged down that, such as was my duty, an'
the orf'cers' ladies sez one to another, thinkin' I was out av
listen-reach: "Fwhat an obligin' young man is this Corp'ril Mulvaney!"
I was a Corp'ril then. I was rejuced aftherwards, but, no matther, I
was a Corp'ril wanst.

'Well, this _Sweethearts'_ business wint on like most amshure
theatricals, an' barrin' fwhat I suspicioned, 'twasn't till the
dhress-rehearsal that I saw for certain that thim two--he the
blackguard, an' she no wiser than she should ha' been--had put up an
evasion.'

'A what?' said I.

'E-vasion! Fwhat you call an elopemint. E-vasion I calls it, bekaze,