“Over there beyant, forninst the cook-house.”
“Good Lord!” murmured the doctor. “How many men have you here?”
“Between two an' three hundred, wid them that are travellin' the road.”
“What are your sanitary arrangements?”
“What's that?”
“I mean how do you—what are your arrangements for keeping the camp clean, free from dirt and smells? You can't have three hundred men living together without some sanitary arrangements.”
“Begob, it's ivery man fer himsilf. Clane yersilf as ye can through the week, an' on Sundays boil yer clothes in soap suds, if ye kin git near the kittles. But, bedad, it's the lively time we have wid the crathurs.”
“And is that the bunk-house close up to the cookery?”
“It is that same.”
“And why was it built so close as that?”