"Ay, Cornel, it's easy for the like of you," said Kennedy, "that have your pensions and commands; but what's a man to say to the poor devils? Hard service and poor wages, barracks and boiled beef, and sixpence a-day! Truth's a grand thing for the army, Cornel, but it does not bring in no recruits; and where's the harm done? If Johnny Raw is deceived wance in a way, it's soon tooken out on him. At the worst, did I ever tell a man he could rise to be Cornel but by a steedy life and doing his duty? Sure, and if he minds himself, he _can_ come to be sergeant, and that's next best; but the biggest lot of them, Cornel, as you know as well as me, never try, and get no honour at all, at all, as may well be proved; for them that strive not, win not on, as I've told them till I was hoarse myself, many's the day." "You never wanted an excuse," said the Colonel, shaking his head; "however, we'll leave the general question; did you ever know a man in the 100th rise from the ranks?--did you ever hear of a sergeant sent on a political mission?--and how could you venture to begin the day, you old sinner, with such a pack of lies?" "Well, well, Cornel--aisy, sir," said the sergeant; "sure he was a gentleman, and know'd what was what as well as me!" Colonel Sutherland laughed in spite of himself at this original excuse, on seeing which Kennedy recovered his courage, and took a higher tone. "And if ye'll believe me, the best thing for _him_ yonder is just to 'list, Cornel. If he wance 'lists, friends'll come in and buy his commission; for sure they are well off and in plenty, Yorkshire ways--and the disgrace, sir, the disgrace, that's what will make them draw their purse-strings. I would not desire a prettier man, either for parade or battle-field. He's a soldier born!" "They! who are _they_?" said Colonel Sutherland; "he has no friends." "Maybe, Cornel, maybe--I say little of friends--friendship's neither here nor there," said the sergeant, waving his hand; "but the faother and moother I can speak to. Them that heeds not love, heeds shame." "You are oracular, Sergeant Kennedy," said the Colonel, with a very little peevishness; "but I tell you the lad told me he had no friends." "Faother and moother, Cornel, as I say," answered the persistent sergeant, with a little nod of his dogmatical head. Colonel Sutherland got up and fell to pacing the room with great annoyance and agitation. After a little while, being somewhat obstinate himself, he seized Kennedy by the shoulder and shook him. "You're deaf!" said the Colonel, with a whimsical, half-angry transference of his own defect to the other; "you're hard of hearing! I tell you the lad says he has no friends." "And I tell you, Cornel, he has faother and moother, if it was my last word!" said the sergeant once again.