We're goin' 'ome, we're goin' 'ome -
Our ship is at the shore, An' you mus' pack your 'aversack, For we won't come back no more.
Ho, don't you grieve for me, My lovely Mary Ann, For I'll marry you yet on a fourp'ny bit, As a time-expired ma-a-an Barrack Room Ballad.
AN awful thing has happened! My friend, Private Mulvaney, who went home in the Serapis, time-expired, not very long ago, has come back to India as a civilian! It was all Dinah Shadd's fault. She could not stand the poky little lodgings, and she missed her servant Abdullah more than words could tell. The fact was that the Mulvaneys had been out here too long, and had lost touch of England.
Mulvaney knew a contractor on one of the new Central India lines, and wrote to him for some sort of work. The contractor said that if Mulvaney could pay the passage he would give him command of a gang of coolies for old sake's sake. The pay was eighty-five rupees a month, and Dinah Shadd said that if Terence did not accept she would make his life a "basted purgathory." Therefore the Mulvaneys came out as "civilians," which was a great and terrible fall; though Mulvaney tried to disguise it by saying that he was "Ker'nel on the railway line, an' a consequinshal man."He wrote me an invitation, on a tool-indent form, to visit him;and I came down to the funny little "construction" bungalow at the side of the line. Dinah Shadd had planted peas about and about, and nature had spread all manner of green stuff round the place.
There was no change in Mulvaney except the change of clothing, which was deplorable, but could not be helped. He was standing upon his trolly, haranguing a gangman, and his shoulders were as well drilled and his big, thick chin was as clean-shaven as ever.
"I'm a civilian now," said Mulvaney. "Cud you tell that I was iver a martial man'? Don't answer, Sorr, av you're strainin' betune a complimint an' a lie. There's no houldin' Dinah Shadd now she's got a house av her own. Go inside, an' dhrink tay out av chiny in the drrrrawin'-room, an' thin we'll dhrink like Christians undher the tree here. Scutt, ye naygur-folk! There's a Sahib come to call on me, an' that's more than he'll iver do for you onless you run!
Get out, an' go on pilin' up the earth, quick, till sundown."When we three were comfortably settled under the big sisham in front of the bungalow, and the first rush of questions and answers about Privates Ortheris and Learoyd and old times and places had died away, Mulvaney said, reflectively - "Glory be, there's no p'rade to-morrow, an' no bun-headed Corp'ril-bhoy to give you his lip. An' yit I don't know. 'Tis harrd to be something ye niver were an' niver meant to be, an' all the ould days shut up along wid your papers. Eyah! I'm growin' rusty, an' 'tis the will av God that a man mustn't serve his Quane for time an' all."He helped himself to a fresh peg, and sighed furiously.
"Let your beard grow, Mulvaney," said I, "and then you won't be troubled with those notions. You'll be a real civilian."Dinah Shadd had told me in the drawing-room of her desire to coax Mulvaney into letting his beard grow. "'Twas so civilian-like,"said poor Dinah, who hated her husband's hankering for his old life.
"Dinah Shadd, you're a dishgrace to an honust, clane-scraped man!
"said Mulvaney, without replying to me. "Grow a beard on your own chin, darlint, and lave my razors alone. They're all that stand betune me and dis-ris-pect-ability. Av I didn't shave, I wud be torminted wid an outrajis thurrst; for there's nothin' so dhryin'
to the throat as a big billy-goat beard waggin' undher the chin.
Ye wudn't have me dhrink always, Dinah Shadd'? By the same token, you're kapin' me crool dhry now. Let me look at that whiskey."The whiskey was lent and returned, but Dinah Shadd, who had been just as eager as her husband in asking after old friends, rent me with -"I take shame for you, Sorr, coming down here though the Saints know you're as welkim as the daylight whin you do come - an'
upsettin' Terence's head wid your nonsense about - about fwhat's much betther forgotten. He bein' a civilian now, an' you niver was aught else. Can you not let the Arrmy rest? 'Tis not good for Terence."I took refuge by Mulvaney, for Dinah Shadd has a temper of her own.
"Let be - let be," said Mulvaney. "'Tis only wanst in a way I can talk about the ould days." Then to me - "Ye say Dhrumshticks is well, an' his lady tu'? I niver knew how I liked the gray garron till I was shut av him an' Asia." - "Dhrumshticks" was the nickname of the Colonel commanding Mulvaney's old regiment. - "Will you be seein' him again? You will. Thin tell him" -Mulvaney's eyes began to twinkle - "tell him wid Privit -"-
"Mister, Terence," interrupted Dinah Shadd. "Now the Divil an' all his angils an' the Firmament av Hiven fly away wid the 'Mister,'
an' the sin av makin' me swear be on your confession, Dinah Shadd!
Privit, I tell ye. Wid Privit Mulvaney's best obedience, that but for me the last time-expired wud be still pullin' hair on their way to the sea."He threw himself back in the chair, chuckled, and was silent.
"Mrs. Mulvaney," I said, "please take up the whiskey, and don't let him have it until he has told the story."Dinah Shadd dexterously whipped the bottle away, saying at the same time, "'Tis nothing to be proud av," and thus captured by the enemy, Mulvaney spake: -"'Twas on Chuseday week. I was behaderin' round wid the gangs on the 'bankmint - I've taught the hoppers how to kape step an' stop screechin' - whin a head-gangman comes up to me, wid about two inches av shirt-tail hanging round his neck an' a disthressful light in his oi. 'Sahib,' sez he, 'there's a reg'mint an' a half av soldiers up at the junction, knockin' red cinders out av ivrything an' ivrybody! They thried to hang me in my cloth,' he sez, 'an' there will be murdher an' ruin an' rape in the place before nightfall! They say they're comin' down here to wake us up.
What will we do wid our women-folk?'
