“Then there was poor Norah, your honour. Och, hone, but I thought it would have broken my heart entirely, to see how the tears chased each other down her pale face! ‘And why will ye lave me, Paddy, (says she) all alone by meself? Oh, look at our cottage and the peat-stack--where will you find the likes of it in another country, Paddy? Then there’s the bit of a bog yonder for the pigs and the geese, and your own dare Norah, and the pratee garden. Oh, why will you go, Paddy, and lave me all alone by meself?’ And then, your honour, I put my arms round her neck, (for I couldn’t spake a word,) and my tears fell trickling on a bosom that looked like twin roses moistened with dew. Oh, I niver felt before nor since as I did at that same moment! But then Mr. Sarjent must have his say, divel twist him to the right about round the rim of the moon,--God forgive me that I should have unchristian feelings tow’rds the vilest of his creatures; ‘Come, come, young man, (says he) fall into the ranks and march; you’ll soon find prettier girls to lead a wild-goose chase!’ Bad manners to him for that same, to try and make my own dare Norah believe that her Pat would iver cease to love her as his own heart’s blood; so I up and tould him I didn’t like to be made game of. ‘Well, well, (says he) I suppose an honest sodger may have a kiss.’--‘Arrah, dress back to the rear, (says I) Mr. Sarjent, for by me soul, if you lay but one of your thieving-hooks upon a digit of her corporal substance, faith! but I’ll brake me arm across your face, so I will.’ Well, your honour, and so he persisted in that same, and cotch’d hould of her gown. Oh, ’twas more than Irish blood could brook, and ‘Lay there jewel!’ says I, stretching him along upon mother earth before he could cry ‘whack!’ and then they put iron mittens on me, and tore my swate love away. I thought me brain would have turned, and so they took me before ould Justice Ballymagfoglem, and poor Pat was committed for a rogue and a vagabond, and marched off for Cork under a military guard; and put into jail. “A few days afterwards and the transports were going to sail; so they trotted me down to the beach, and there I found a great many more like meself. Well, just as I was stepping into the boat, I heard the swate voice of my own dear Norah, and so I stepped back again. ‘Jump into the boat! you mutinous rascal,’ says the sarjent. ‘Rascal yourself, (says I) Mr. Sarjent; do you think his honoured majesty, God bless him! would refuse me one last embrace from the dare cratur I’d broke the bit o’ gold with? Arrah, be aisey now, and paws off,’ for they began to handle me again, your honour. ‘Let the poor fellow alone!’ said the midshipmite of the boat; ‘let him alone to spake to the girl.’--‘God bless you! young jontleman (says I) for that same. May your father niver have to sorrow over your mother’s son!’