"Have what, Barney, me b'y?" Nick asked, mimicking Barney's quaintly displaced vowels.
"Why, the way to get rid of Old Schnapps and Blitzen--more power to me!"
"All the power you want, if you'll only do that; and your voice will be as sweet as 'the harp that once in Tara's halls--'"
"Never moind the harp--Sassenach--here's what we can do. Tim Hussey is Oswald's orderly; he and I are good friends. I know a preparation that will turn the sauerkraut and sausages, that Oswald eats so much of, into degluted fire and brimstone, warranted to keep him on the broad of his back for ten days or a fortnight. Will ye all swear secrecy?"
"On the double crown on your head," Jack answered, solemnly, "which you have often told us was considered a sign that an angel had touched you--I'm sure nothing could be more solemn than that. It isn't every fellow that can get an angel to touch the top of his head."
"No; most fellows can consider themselves lucky if an angel touches their lips--or heart," Barney cried, naïvely.
"Well, never mind that sort of angel now, Barney," Nick said, pettishly; "I notice that you always bring up with something about the girls, no matter what the subject we set off on. It's the jalap--isn't that what it's called?--we want to hear about."
"There isn't enough poetry or sentiment in the two o' ye to fill a wind-blown buttercup. No wonder ye don't care to talk of the gurls--they'll have none of ye."
"We'll be satisfied if they'll have you, Barney. I'm sure that's magnanimous. But if your jalap takes as much time in working Old Schnapps as you take in explaining it, the war will be over, and we shall have seen none of it."
"It's too great a conception to be hastily set forth. Give me time. I'll lay a guinea that Oswald goes to the hospital before this day week. Let us see. This is the 14th; before the 20th--" and Barney gave the barrel of his gun, near him, a furtive wipe with his coat-sleeve.
"Barney, if you'll do that, I'll gather every four-leaved clover between here and Richmond to give you; and, what's more, if I die I'll leave you my bones to operate."
"Ah, Nick, dear, I'd rather have your little finger living than all the possessions of your father's bank. If you were dead--" And honest Barney seized the poet's hand sentimentally.