and produce something so
absorbingly interesting or ridiculous that the pain and the long nights
were forgotten. How well Sheila remembered that first time they had
dressed his wounds! The muscles had stood out on his arms like whipcords;
sweat poured down his face. He fainted twice, each time coming round to
drawl out his story in that unforgetable Irish way:

"We were dthrivin' them afore us like sheep, all so tame an' sociable I
was forgettin' where I was. Somehow the notion took me I was back on the
moorlan' drivin' the flocks for my father, when a Fritzie overhead drops a
bomb on our captain.... It spatters the mud in my eyes somethin' terrible,
an' when I rubs them clean again the machine-guns were cacklin' all round
us like a parcel o' hens layin' eggs; we'd stumbled on a nest of them.
Holy Pether, I was mad! I was for stickin' the colors in the muzzle o' one
o' their bloody guns, an' I sings out as I rush 'em, 'Erin go bragh!' Then
down I goes. Culmullen, there, comes staggerin' up. 'Take the colors,'
says I. 'I've got no legs to carry 'em on.' 'I can't,' says he; 'I've got
no arms to shoulder 'em.'... A bit aftherwards I sees Jamie--he's second
in command--come runnin' up wild, but his arms an' legs is still in pairs,
so I shouts afore things go black, 'The colors, Jamie, ye take the
colors.' 'Wish to God, Patsy, I could,' says he, 'but I can't see.'...
Faith, weren't we a healthy lot, miss? An' we the Royal Irish!" He had
grinned then as he was grinning now.

Culmullen in the next cot, a schoolmaster from Ballygowan, raised his
head. "Miss O'Leary, Patsy's the worst liar in Ulster. Ye might keep that
in mind whenever he has anything to tell. If I had had the schooling of
ye, I'd have thrashed the thruth into ye, ye rascal! Will ye kindly lean
over and brush the hair out of my eyes, and if ye tickle my nose this
time, I'll have Larry thrash ye for me the instant he's up."

The color-sergeant pulled himself over and gently brushed back the
straggling hair. "Such a purty lad!" he murmured, sarcastically. "What's
an arm or two so long's the Fritzies didn't ruin one o' them handsome
features--nor shorten the length o' your tongue."

"What is it this time, Sergeant?" Sheila spoke coaxingly as she bent to
the dressings.

"Well, ye know I've said from the beginnin' 'twas no ways natural havin'
them legs o' mine twistin' an' achin' same as if they were still hangin'
onto me. I leave it to both of yez. If they'd bee