India -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, English
"That," said Mulvaney, finishing the champagne, "is a shuparfluous an'
impert'nint observation."
THE DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT
Jain 'Ardin' was a Sarjint's wife,
A Sarjint's wife wus she,
She married of 'im in Orldershort
An' comed across the sea.
(_Chorus_)
'Ave you never 'eard tell o' Jain 'Ardin'?
Jain 'Ardin'?
Jain 'Ardin'?
'Ave you never 'eard tell o' Jain 'Ardin'?
The pride o' the Companee?
_Old Barrack Room Ballad._
"A gentleman who doesn't know the Circasian Circle ought not to stand up
for it--puttin' everybody out." That was what Miss McKenna said, and the
Sergeant who was my _vis-à-vis_ looked the same thing. I was afraid of
Miss McKenna. She was six feet high, all yellow freckles and red hair, and
was simply clad in white satin shoes, a pink muslin dress, an apple-green
stuff sash, and black silk gloves, with yellow roses in her hair.
Wherefore I fled from Miss McKenna and sought my friend Private Mulvaney,
who was at the cant--refreshment-table.
"So you've been dancin' with little Jhansi McKenna, sorr--she that's goin'
to marry Corp'ril Slane? Whin you next conversh wid your lorruds an' your
ladies, tell thim you've danced wid little Jhansi. 'Tis a thing to be
proud av."
But I wasn't proud. I was humble. I saw a story in Private Mulvaney's eye;
and besides, if he stayed too long at the bar, he would, I knew, qualify
for more pack-drill. Now to meet an esteemed friend doing pack-drill
outside the guardroom is embarrassing, especially if you happen to be
walking with his Commanding Officer.
"Come on to the parade-ground, Mulvaney, it's cooler there, and tell me
about Miss McKenna. What is she, and who is she, and why is she called
'Jhansi'?"
"D'ye mane to say you've niver heard av Ould Pummeloe's daughter? An' you
thinkin' you know things! I'm wid ye in a minut whin me poipe's lit."
We came out under the stars. Mulvaney sat down on one of the artillery
bridges, and began in the usual way: his pipe between his teeth, his big
hands clasped and dropped between his knees, and his cap well on the back
of his head--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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