"Vhat golor off a gravat do you vant?" asked the Jewish vender of haberdashery, who was rapidly amassing a fortune from the soldiers. "Dere's plack, red, kreen, plue—all lofely golors, unt de vinest kint off silk. Yoost de same as Cheneral Krant vears. He puys lods off me. Von't puy off nopody else vhen he gan ket to me. Now, dere's vun dat'll yoost suit your light gomplexion. You gan vear dat on St. Batrick's day."
And he picked out one of bright green that would have made Shorty's throat seem in wild revolt against his hair.
"Well, I don't know," said Shorty meditatively, pulling over the lot. Then a thought struck him. Taking out the bit of Maria's dress, he said:
"Give me something as near as possible the color of that."
"Veil, I've kot rid off datt off-golored negdie, dat I fought I nefer vould sell," meditated the Jew, as Shorty left. "I'm ahet yoost a tollar-unt-a-haluf on aggount off dat vild Irishman's kirl. Veil, de kirls ket some fellers into sgrapes, unt helps udders oud."
With this philosophical observation the Jew resumed his pleasant work of marking up his prices to better accord with his enlarged views as to the profits he could get off the soldiers.
When Shorty returned to Headquarters, neatly shaven and brushed, and took the position of a soldier before the Chief Clerk, that functionary remarked approvingly:
"Very good, very good, indeed. You'll be an ornament to Headquarters."
And the General, entering the room at that time, added:
"Yes, you are as fine a looking soldier as one would wish to see, and an examaple to others. But you have not your Corporal's chevrons on. Allow me to present you with a pair. It gives me pleasure, for you have well earned them."