We had a very good-tempered, rollicking young Irishman in our room named Larry Byrne, who often went on pass to meet his sweetheart Nannie McCarthy, who was cook at a gentleman's house about two miles from barracks. Larry generally came to barracks in high spirits; and he would either disturb every man in the room and keep them awake by a recital of his "divarshuns" with Nannie and the rest of his friends, or quietly play off some practical joke invented before he entered the room. He had returned from his "coorting" one morning about two o'clock--it was a beautiful bright moonlight morning, and I happened to be awake and could see Larry's every movement--when he softly entered the room. He was evidently bent on having a lark. Pulling out of his pocket a ball of twine, and after undressing himself, he walked stealthily up to the foot of old Sam Whelan's bed (a man with none the best of tempers, even when he ought to have been pleased); turning up the clothes, so as to bare old Sam's feet, he tied one end of the twine round the joint of his big toe, and then, replacing the bed-clothes, got into his own bed at the farther end of the room with one end of the string in his hand. There were eight of us in the room, and it afterwards appeared that, although not a word had been spoken, there were more watching the movements of Larry than myself. All was still for a few moments. I could distinctly see, in the moonlight that bore full upon Larry's bed near the window, his white teeth grinning underneath his jet-black moustache as he bobbed up his curly head and jerked the string; but there was no response. A suppressed titter from some one reached Larry's ears. "Whist! whist! ye omedhaun!" said he, in a low whisper; and then, with twofold vigour, he jerked at the line again. "Whah!" sang out old Sam, in a strange, unearthly yell, as he sat bolt upright in bed and peered anxiously around the room. All was, however, as still as the grave; and, thinking it must have been a dream, he lay down again. By his snoring, Larry could tell he was asleep, and that he had not detected the string round his toe. Seizing the end of the string again, which he had dropped at his bedside to slacken the tension on the toe, Larry gave it another regular "twinger." "Whah! whah! whah! Murther! Boys, did ye's see anything in the room?" Larry and I burst out laughing, the rest of the men were awoke by the row; old Sam found the string tied to his toe, and, accusing Larry of the trick, jumped out of bed, seized his sword, and I believe would have killed Larry had not the latter, knowing the customer he had to deal with, jumped out of bed, drawn his own sword from the scabbard, and taken up his position on the defensive, until old Sam could be pacified.