"I feel very dry," said the one who had now commenced to eat the
herrings.
"Divil doubt you, an' so you ought to feel dhry, you murtherin cannibal,
for there you sit ating two as fine fellows of your own spacies as ever
tuk a bath in the salt say," said an old looking soldier.
"Jerry," said the "orderly," "have you any money?"
"Niver a farden," said Jerry--the man who had jokingly called him a
"cannibal."
"I've got some," said I, displaying one shilling and fivepence--all I
had left.
"Bravo, youngster," said the orderly, "will you pay for a quart of ale?"
"Yes, for two quarts if you like," said I.
"Might as well have a gallon while we are about it, that'll jist be a
pint apiece," said a big lump of a fellow rising from one of the beds,
where he had been lying and smoking a dirty short pipe without speaking
a word until now.
"Mind your own business, you moon-snuffing omedhaun, and let the lad do
as he plases," said the Irishman.
"I've only this one shilling and fivepence in copper, or I would pay for
two or three gallons of beer," said I.
"Do you live in Sheffield?" inquired the orderly.
"I came here from W--, to enlist, but they say I'm not tall enough,"
said I.
"And what are you going to do next?"
"'List in another regiment," said I.
"S'pose you don't pass the doctor, what shall you do then?"