FullReads

“The docthor touched the long black hair av her head (’twas all loose upon Love-o’-Women’s chest), an’ that cleared the liquor out av him. He stud considherin’ a long time, his hands in his pockets, an’ at last he sez to me, ‘Here’s a double death from naturil causes, most naturil causes; an’ in the presint state av affairs the rig’mint will be thankful for wan grave the less to dig. Issiwasti,’ he sez, ‘Issiwasti, Privit Mulvaney, these two will be buried together in the Civil Cemet’ry at my expinse, an’ may the good God,’ he sez, ‘make it SO much for me whin my time comes. Go to your wife,’ he sez; ‘go an’ be happy. I’ll see to this all.’

“I left him still considherin’. They was buried in the Civil Cemet’ry together, wid a Church of England service. There was too many buryin’s thin to ask questions, an’ the docthor – he ran away wid Major – Major Van Dyce’s lady that year – he saw to ut all. Fwhat the right an’ the wrong av Love-o’-Women an’ Di’monds-an’- Pearls was I niver knew, an’ I will niver know; but I’ve tould ut as I came acrost ut – here an’ there in little pieces. So, being fwhat I am, an’ knowin’ fwhat I know, that’s fwhy I say in this shootin’-case here, Mackie that’s dead an’ in hell is the lucky man. There are times, Sorr, whin ’tis betther for the man to die than to live, an’ by consequince forty million times betther for the woman.”

“H’up there!” said Ortheris. “It’s time to go.” The witnesses and guard formed up in the thick white dust of the parched twilight and swung off, marching easy and whistling. Down the road to the green by the church I could hear Ortheris, the black Book-lie still uncleansed on his lips, setting, with a fine sense of the fitness of things, the shrill quick-step that runs –

“Oh, do not despise the advice of the wise,
Learn wisdom from those that are older,
And don’t try for things that are out of your reach –
An’ that’s what the Girl told the Soldier
Soldier! Soldier!
Oh, that’s what the Girl told the Soldier!”