India -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, English
Soa t' next day, Mulvaney an' Rip an' me goes to Mrs. DeSussa's, an' t'
Irishman bein' a strainger she wor a bit shy at fost. But yo've heeard
Mulvaney talk, an' yo' may believe as he fairly bewitched t' awd lass wal
she let out 'at she wanted to tek Rip away wi' her to Munsooree Pahar.
Then Mulvaney changes his tune an' axes her solemn-like if she'd thought
o' t' consequences o' gettin' two poor but honest soldiers sent t'
Andamning Islands. Mrs. DeSussa began to cry, so Mulvaney turns round
oppen t' other tack and smooths her down, allowin' 'at Rip ud be a vast
better off in t' Hills than down i' Bengal, and 'twas a pity he shouldn't
go wheer he was so well beliked. And soa he went on, backin' an' fillin'
an' workin' up t'awd lass wal she fell as if her life warn't worth nowt if
she didn't hev t' dog.
Then all of a suddint he says:--"But ye _shall_ have him, marm, for I've a
feelin' heart, not like this could-blooded Yorkshireman; but 'twill cost
ye not a penny less than three hundher rupees."
"Don't yo' believe him, mum," says I; "t' Colonel's Laady wouldn't tek
five hundred for him."
"Who said she would?" says Mulvaney; "it's not buyin' him I mane, but for
the sake o' this kind, good laady, I'll do what I never dreamt to do in my
life. I'll stale him!"
"Don't say steal," says Mrs. DeSussa; "he shall have the happiest home.
Dogs often get lost, you know, and then they stray, an' he likes me and I
like him as I niver liked a dog yet, an' I _must_ hev him. If I got him at
t' last minute I could carry him off to Munsooree Pahar and nobody would
niver knaw."
Now an' again Mulvaney looked acrost at me, an' though I could mak nowt o'
what he was after, I concluded to take his leead.
"Well, mum," I says, "I never thowt to coom down to dog-steealin', but if
my comrade sees how it could be done to oblige a laady like yo'-sen, I'm
nut t' man to hod back, tho' it's a bad business I'm thinkin', an' three
hundred rupees is a poor set-off again t' chance of them Damning Islands
as Mulvaney talks on."
"I'll mek it three fifty," says Mrs. DeSussa; "only let me hev t' dog!"
So we let her persuade us, an' she teks Rip's measure theer an' then, an'
sent to Hamilton's to order a silver collar again t' time when he was to
be her awn, which was to be t' day she set off for Munsooree Pahar.
"Sitha, Mulvaney," says I, when we was outside, "you're niver goin' to let
her hev Rip!"
"An' would ye disappoint a poor old woman?" says he; "she shall have _a_
Rip."
"An' wheer's he to come through?" says I.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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