O'Halloran's farm--as they called it, as soon as they heard, from him, what he was doing--became quite a joke in the regiment; but several of the other married officers, who had similar facilities for keeping fowls, adopted the idea to some extent, and started with a score or so of fowls.
"I wonder you didn't think of pigs, O'Halloran," one of the captains said, laughing, as they were talking over the farm in the mess anteroom; "pigs and potatoes. The idea of you and Burke, both from the sod, starting a farm; and not thinking, first, of the two chief national products."
"There is not room for praties, Sinclair; and as for pigs, there are many reasons against it. In the first place, I doubt whether I could buy any. In the second, there isn't room for them. In the third, what should I give them to keep them alive? In the fourth, pigs are illigant bastes but, in a hot country like this, I should not care for a stye of them under my drawing room window. In the fifth--"
"That will do, that will do, O'Halloran. We give way. We allow that you could not keep pigs, but it is a pity."
"It is that, Sinclair. There is nothing would please me better than to see a score of nice little pigs, with a nate stye, and a magazine of food big enough to keep them, say, for a year."
"Three months, O'Halloran, would be ample."
"Well, we shall see, Sinclair. Teddy Burke says three years, but I do hope it is not going to be as long as that."
"Begorra!" another Irish officer, Captain O'Moore, exclaimed; "if it is three years we are going to be here, we had best be killed and buried at once. I have been all the morning in the Queen's Battery, where my company has been slaving like haythens, with the sun coming down as if it would fry your brain in your skull pan; and if that is to go on, day after day, for three years, I should be dead in a month!"
"That is nothing, O'Moore. If the siege goes on, they say the officers will have to help at the work."
"I shall protest against it. There is not a word in the articles of war about officers working. I am willing enough to be shot by the Spaniards, but not to be killed by inches. No, sir, there is not an O'Moore ever did a stroke of work, since the flood; and I am not going to demean myself by beginning.