“Up higher,” shouted the little sergeant.
“There, that’s better. Don’t let me see you with your head down again.”
“Am I to be always like this?” asked Doolan, staring away above the little man’s head.
“You are.”
“Then I’ll say good-bye to ye, sergeant, for I’ll never see ye again.”
TOO MODEST BY FAR
During a camp parade of the buglers recently an Irish corporal was in charge. He was asked by the commanding officer if all the buglers were present: He replied: “No, sorr, wan man absent.”
“Well, then,” said the officer, “go and find him and ask him what he has to say for himself.”
A few minutes later Pat came running back. “Shure, sorr,” he cried, “and weren’t we a pair of duffers not to know it? It wor meself. Bedad, sorr, Oi forgot to call me own name entoirely.”