orst
corp'ril in the comp'ny. Come away, mother,' sez she.

"But divil a fut would the ould woman budge! 'D'you hould by that?'
sez she, peerin' up under her thick gray eyebrows.

"'Ay, an' wud,' said I, 'Tho' Dinah gave me the go twinty times. I'll
have no thruck with you or yours,' sez I. 'Take your child away, ye
shameless woman!'

"'An' am I shameless,' sez she, bringin' her hands up above her head.
'Thin what are you, ye lyin', schamin', weak-kneed, dhirty-souled son
of a sutler? Am I shameless? Who put the open shame on me an' my
child that we shud go beggin' though the lines in daylight for the
broken word of a man? Double portion of my shame be on you, Terence
Mulvaney, that think yourself so strong! By Mary and the saints, by
blood and water, an' by ivry sorrow that came into the world since the
beginnin', the black blight fall on you and yours, so that you may
niver be free from pain for another when ut's not your own! May your
heart bleed in your breast drop by drop wid all your friends laughin'
at the bleedin'! Strong you think yourself? May your strength be a
curse to you to dhrive you into the devil's hands against your own
will! Clear-eyed you are? May your eyes see clear ivry step av the
dark path you take till the hot cinders av hell put thim out! May the
ragin' dry thirst in my own ould bones go to you, that you shall never
pass bottle full nor glass empty! God preserve the light av your
understandin' to you, my jewel av a bhoy, that ye may niver forget what
you mint to be an' do, when you're wallowin' in the muck! May ye see
the betther and follow the worse as long as there's breath in your
body, an' may ye die quick in a strange land, watchin' your death
before ut takes you, an' onable to stir hand or fut!'

"I heard a scufflin' in the room behind, and thin Dinah Shadd's hand
dhropped into mine like a roseleaf into a muddy road.

"'The half av that I'll take,' sez she, 'an' more too, if I can. Go
home, ye silly-talkin' woman--go home an' confess.'

"'Come away! Come away!" sez Judy, pullin' her mother by the shawl.
''Twas none av Terence's fault. For the love av Mary, stop the
talkin'!'

"'An' you!' said ould Mother Sheehy, spinnin' round forninst Dinah.
'Will ye take the half av that man's load? Stand off from him, Dinah
Shadd, before he takes you down too--you that look to be a
quarthermaster-sergint's wife in five years. Ye look too high, child.
Ye shall wash for the