almost inaccessible mountain side an' capturin' eight guns which we
didn't want so we give thim back to thim with siveral iv our own,' he
says. 'Th' Irish rig'mints,' he says, 'th' Kerry Rifles, th' Land
Leaguers' Own, an' th' Dublin Pets, commanded be th' Pop'lar Irish sojer
Gin'ral Sir Ponsonby Tompkins wint into battle singin' their well-known
naytional anthem: "Mrs. Innery Awkins is a fust-class name!" Th' Boers
retreated,' he says, 'pursued be th' Davitt Terrors who cut their way
through th' fugitives with awful slaughter,' he says. 'They have now,'
he says, 'pinethrated as far us Pretoria,' he says, 'th' officers
arrivin' in first-class carredges an' th' men in thrucks,' he says, 'an'
ar-re camped in th' bettin' shed where they ar-re afforded ivry
attintion be th' vanquished inimy,' he says. 'As f'r us,' he says, 'we
decided afther th' victhry to light out f'r Ladysmith.' he says, 'Th'
inimy had similar intintions,' he says, 'but their skill has been vastly
overrated,' he says. 'We bate thim,' he says 'we bate thim be thirty
miles,' he says. That's where we're sthrong, Hinnissy. We may get licked
on th' battle field, we may be climbin' threes in th' Ph'lippeens with
arrows stickin' in us like quills, as Hogan says, into th' fretful
porcupine or we may be doin' a mile in five minyits flat down th' pike
that leads to Cape Town pursued be th' less fleet but more ignorant
Boers peltin' us with guns full iv goold an' bibles, but in th' pages iv
histhry that our childhren read we niver turned back on e'er an inimy.
We make our own gloryous pages on th' battlefield, in th' camp an' in
th' cab'net meetin'."

"Well, 't is all r-right f'r ye to be jokin'," said Mr. Hennessy, "but
there's manny a brave fellow down there that it's no joke to."

"Thrue f'r ye," said Mr. Dooley, "an' that's why I wisht it cud be fixed
up so's th' men that starts th' wars could do th' fightin'. Th' throuble