“Glory be,” said Trooper Dan, waking suddenly and reaching hastily for his boots. “Are they at it already?” The tramp, tramp, of heavily marching feet passed up the street, a chanting chorus marking the time—“Coolongolong go-long-long-beer,” and Trooper Dan settled back with a sigh. “’Tis early to tackle them,” he sighed; “’twould only be the sthartin’ av a foight, an’ there’ll be enough o’ that in its own good time. They’re barely ripe yet.”
With a good deal of argument the men counted back the number of drinks they had had in the first hotel, and set themselves industriously to level the tally in the second one. That accomplished, they commenced to march from one hotel to the other, and have one drink in each. The procession got noisier each time, and took longer and longer to cover the journey, and Trooper Dan, an hour after dark, thought it time to make an attempt to try peaceable persuasion.
He broke into the ring that had been formed in the middle of the street for a station man and a townsman to settle an argument on the pronunciation of the township’s name.
Steve Knight caught his arm as he pushed through.
“Let ’em alone, Dan,” he said; “they’re both fighting drunk, and there’ll be no peace or quiet till they’ve had a hammering. Like enough, they’ll both go and sleep it off quiet after.”
“’Tisn’t Dan Mulcahy that ud be afther spoilin’ a good foight,” said the trooper; “but there isn’t light enough for ’em to see to foight proper.”
“Thas ri’,” said Jack Ever, catching at the words. “They mush ’ave a light t’ see to kill eash other. Wait a minnit—lesh ’ave a light.”
“That’s right,” chorused the others, “let’s have a light. Pull the post an’ rail fence down an’ make a fire.”
“Hold on, bhoys, now,” said Trooper Dan. “Ye want a light. Wait now and I’ll give ye a light. Wait a bit.” He fumbled long and slow in one pocket after another. “Ye want a light. Never-Never wants a light now, mind ye. Well, I can give him a light. Here ye are now, Jack,” and he pulled a match out, and struck it, and held it out to Jack, who blinked owlishly at it.
“Thanksh,” he said, and stretched out his hand and took the match with clumsy fingers. “But wh-whersh m’ pipe?” he said suddenly. The men roared. “Hasn’t got ’is pipe. Got a light an’ hasn’t got a pipe—silly fool——”