Kil. (dragging him forward). Well, by the powers, if it ain't a shmall nagur.
Pete. 'Deed, massa, I done mean no harm; I's scared blue, I is.
Kil. Blue, is it? faith it must be navy blue thin, wid a coat of tan outshide it. Phat are yees doing here?
Pete. I's only come to find my mammy.
Kil. Foind yees mammy. It's a foine place yees come to luk for her; p'raps yees thinks she's a bowld sojer by in petticoats, ha, ha!
Pete. Please, massa, I tought maybe, when she runned away, der Union men would be good to her, and let her stay wid dem.
Kil. Bliss his heart, a good bit of faith he has thin, and Patrick Kilroy is the last man, though he has an Irish heart, that would lit any harm come to this shmall spal-peen. Corporal of the guard, post four.
(Enter Corporal.)
Kil. (with hand on Pete's shoulder). Look here, sir. See what I've found crossing the line. Shure it's a bit of ould Africa.
Corp. All right, I'll show him to the colonel. (Kilroy resumes march; Corporal leads Pete to Colonel's tent and salutes.)