kel-plated
scent-sprinkler av yours, for my own has been vomitin' dishgraceful!"

'The fork av his hand was black wid the back-spit av the machine. So
he tuk the orf'cer bhoy's revolver. Ye may look, Sorr, but, by my
faith, _there's a dale more done in the field than iver gets into
Field Ordhers!_

'"Come on, Mulvaney," sez Crook; "is this a Coort-Martial?" The two av
us wint back together into the mess an' the Paythans were still
standin' up. They was not _too_ impart'nint though, for the Tyrone was
callin' wan to another to remimber Tim Coulan.

'Crook stopped outside av the strife an' looked anxious, his eyes
rowlin' roun'.

'"Fwhat is ut, Sorr?" sez I; "can I get ye anything?"

'"Where's a bugler?" sez he.

'I wint into the crowd--our men was dhrawin' breath behin' the Tyrone
who was fightin' like sowls in tormint--an' prisintly I came acrost
little Frehan, our bugler bhoy, pokin' roun' among the best wid a
rifle an' bay'nit.

'"Is amusin' yoursilf fwhat you're paid for, ye limb?" sez I, catchin'
him by the scruff. "Come out av that an' attind to your duty," I sez;
but the bhoy was not pleased.

'"I've got wan," sez he, grinnin', "big as you, Mulvaney, an' fair
half as ugly. Let me go get another."

'I was dishpleased at the personability av that remark, so I tucks him
under my arm an' carries him to Crook who was watchin' how the fight
wint. Crook cuffs him till the bhoy cries, an' thin sez nothin' for a
whoile.

'The Paythans began to flicker onaisy, an' our men roared. "Opin
ordher! Double!" sez Crook. "Blow, child, blow for the honour av the
British Arrmy!"

'That bhoy blew like a typhoon, an' the Tyrone an' we opined out as
the Paythans broke, an' I saw that fwhat had gone before wud be
kissin' an' huggin' to fwhat was to come. We'd dhruv them into a broad
part av the gut whin they gave, an' thin we opined out an' fair danced
down the valley, dhrivin' thim before us. Oh, 'twas lovely, an'
stiddy, too! There was the Sargints on the flanks av what was left av
us, kapin' touch, an' the fire was runnin' from flank to flank, an'
the Paythans was dhroppin'. We opined out wid the widenin' av the
valley, an' whin the valley narrowed we closed again like the shticks
on a lady's fan, an' at the far ind av the gut where they thried to
stand, we fair blew them off their feet, for we had expinded very
little ammunition by reason av the knife work.'

'Hi used thirty rounds goin' down that valley,' said Orthe