Life's Handicap: Being Stories of Mine Own PeopleKipling, Rudyard
History
Life's Handicap: Being Stories of Mine Own People
Kipling, Rudyard
India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction; India -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, English
‘He pitched on his left shoulder-point. Ut was. Next day the news was in
both barricks, an’ whin I met Dinah Shadd wid a cheek on me like all the
reg’mintal tailor’s samples there was no “Good mornin’, corp’ril,”
or aught else. “An’ what have I done, Miss Shadd,” sez I, very bould,
plantin’ mesilf forninst her, “that ye should not pass the time of day?”
‘“Ye’ve half-killed rough-rider Dempsey,” sez she, her dear blue eyes
fillin’ up.
‘“May be,” sez I. “Was he a friend av yours that saw ye home four times
in the fortnight?”
‘“Yes,” sez she, but her mouth was down at the corners. “An’--an’ what’s
that to you?” she sez.
‘“Ask Dempsey,” sez I, purtendin’ to go away.
‘“Did you fight for me then, ye silly man?” she sez, tho’ she knew ut
all along.
‘“Who else?” sez I, an’ I tuk wan pace to the front.
‘“I wasn’t worth ut,” sez she, fingerin’ in her apron,
‘“That’s for me to say,” sez I. “Shall I say ut?”
‘“Yes,” sez she in a saint’s whisper, an’ at that I explained mesilf;
and she tould me what ivry man that is a man, an’ many that is a woman,
hears wanst in his life.
‘“But what made ye cry at startin’, Dinah, darlin’?’” sez I.
‘“Your--your bloody cheek,” sez she, duckin’ her little head down on my
sash (I was on duty for the day) an’ whimperin’ like a sorrowful angil.
‘Now a man cud take that two ways. I tuk ut as pleased me best an’ my
first kiss wid ut. Mother av Innocence! but I kissed her on the tip
av the nose an’ undher the eye; an’ a girl that let’s a kiss come
tumble-ways like that has never been kissed before. Take note av that,
sorr. Thin we wint hand in hand to ould Mother Shadd like two little
childher, an’ she said ‘twas no bad thing, an’ ould Shadd nodded behind
his pipe, an’ Dinah ran away to her own room. That day I throd on
rollin’ clouds. All earth was too small to hould me. Begad, I cud ha’
hiked the sun out av the sky for a live coal to my pipe, so magnificent
I was. But I tuk recruities at squad-drill instid, an’ began wid general
battalion advance whin I shud ha’ been balance-steppin’ them. Eyah! that
day! that day!’
A very long pause. ‘Well?’ said I.
‘’Twas all wrong,’ said Mulvaney, with an enormous sigh. ‘An’ I know
that ev’ry bit av ut was my own foolishness. That night I tuk maybe the
half av three pints--not enough to turn the hair of a man in his natural
senses. But I was more than half drunk wid pure joy, an’ that canteen
beer was so much whisky to me. I can’t tell how it came about, but
BEKAZE I had no thought for anywan except Dinah, BEKAZE I hadn’t slipped
her little white arms from my neck five minuts, BEKAZE the breath of her
kiss was not gone from my mouth, I must go through the married lines
on my way to quarters an’ I must stay talkin’ to a red-headed Mullingar
heifer av a girl, Judy Sheehy, that was daughter to Mother Sheehy, the
wife of Nick Sheehy, the canteen-sergint--the Black Curse av Shielygh be
on the whole brood that are above groun’ this day!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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