The herald., 1896-02-24

chies. whin I'll tire SAings was full, ould
Pummeloe marches back into camp-'twas
like battlefield wild all the glory missin
at the hid av the rigimint av women.
" 'McKenna, me man, she sez, wild a
voice on her like grand roun's challenge,
tell tho bhoys to be quiet Ould Pun
meloe's aacomin to look afther thim-wid
free drinks
Thin we checred. an tho cheerin In
the lines was louder than the noisc av the
poor divils wild the sickness on thin. But
not much.
"Ye see, we was new an raw rigi-
mint in those days, an we cud make nei-
ther head nor tail av the sickness, on so
we was useless. The min was goin roun
an about like dumb sheep, waitin for tho
mex man to fall over an sayin undhcr
thoir spaohe: Fwhat is uta In the namo
av God, fwhat is ut?' Twas horrible.
But through ut all, up an down an down
an up, wint ould Pummeloe an little
Jhansi-all we-cud see av tho baby undher
dead mans helnfet wild tho chin strap
swingin about her little stummick-up an
down wild the water an fwhat brandy
there was.
Now an thin ould Pummeloe, the tears
runnin down her fat, red face, sez. Me
for the most she was thryin to put heart
into the min an kape thin stiddy, an
little Jhansi was tellin thin all they wud
be betther in the mornin.' Twas thrick
she'd picked up from hearin ould Pun
meloe whin Muttra was burnin out wild
fever. In the mornin Twas the iver-
lastin mornin at St. Peters gate was the
mornin for seven an twinty good men, an
twinty moro was sick to the death in that
bitter, burnin sun. But the women work
ed like angils, as I've said, an the men
like divils till two doctors come down
from above an we was rescued.
But just before that ould Pummeloe,
on her knees over bhoy in my squad
right cot man to me he was In the barrick
--tellin him the worrud av the church
that niver failed a man yet, sez: 'Hould
me up, bhoys! I'm feelin bloody sick =
Twas the sun, not the cholera, did ut.
She misremembered she was only wearin
her ould black bonnet, an she died wild
'McKenna, me man. houldin her up, an
the bhoys howled whin they buried her.
"That night big wind blew an blew
az blew an blew the tents fat. But ut
blew the cholera away, an niver another
case there was all the while we was waitin
ten days in quarintin'. Eff ye will
behave ME, the thrack of the sickness in
the camp was for all the worruld the
thrack av a man walkin four times In
figur' av eight through the tents. They
say It's the Wandherin Jew takes the chol-
era wild him. believe ut.
'An that said Mulvaney illogioally,
sis the cause why little Jhansi McKenna
is fwhat she is. She was brought up by
the quartermaster sarjint's wife whin
MoKenna died. but she b'longs to B COM
p'ny, an this tale I'm tellin ye-wid a
proper appreciashin av Jhansi McKenna
I've belted into eye'y recruity av the
comp'ny as he was drafted. Faith, twas
me belted Corp'ril Slane into askin the
girl''
Not reallyf''
Man, did! She's no beauty to look
at, but she's ould PuInmeloe's daughter,
an tits my juty to provide for her. just
before Slane got his wan eight day sez
to him: Slane sez 7 tomorrow twill be
insubortlinashin av me to chastise We;
but, by the sowl av ould Pummeloe, who
is now in glory, eff ye don't give me yer
worrud to ask Jhsnsi McKenna at wanst,
I'll peel the flesh off yer bones wild a brass
huk tonight. 'Tis dishgrace to com
p'ny she's been single so long, sez I. Was
l goin to let a 3-year- -ould preshume to
discoorse wild me, my will bein set? No!
Slane wint an asked her. He's good
bhoy, Is Slane. Wan av these days he'll
get into the com 'ssariat an dhrive boggy
wild his-savin's. s. So provided for ould
Pummeloe's daughter, an now ye go
along an dance agin wild her."
And did.
felt a respect for Miss Jhansi MoKen.
ma, and I went to her wedding later on.
Perhaps will tell you about that one
of these days.-Rudyard Kipling.