The Recruit

Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: “Bedad, yer a bad ’un! Now turn out yer toes! Yer belt is unhookit, Yer cap is on crookit, Ye may not be dhrunk, But, be jabers, ye look it! Wan—two! Wan—two! Ye monkey-faced divil, I ’ll jolly ye through! Wan—two!— Time! Mark! Ye march like the aigle in Cintheral Parrk!” Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: “A saint it ud sadden A dhrill such a mug! Eyes front!—ye baboon, ye!— Chin up!—ye gossoon, ye! Ye ’ve jaws like a goat— Halt! ye leather-lipped loon, ye! Wan—two! Wan—two! Ye whiskered orang-outang, I ’ll fix you! Wan—two! Time! Mark! Ye ’ve eyes like a bat!—can ye see in the dark?” Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: “Yer figger wants padd’n’— Sure, man ye ’ve no shape! Behind ye yer shoulders Stick out like two bowlders; Yer shins is as thin As a pair of pen-holders! Wan—two! Wan—two! Yer belly belongs on yer back, ye Jew! Wan—two!— Time! Mark! I ’m dhry as a dog—I can’t shpake but I bark!” Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: “Me heart it ud gladden To blacken yer eye. Ye ’re gettin’ too bold, ye Compel me to scold ye,— ’T is halt! that I say,— Will ye heed what I told ye? Wan—two! Wan—two! Be jabers, I ’m dhryer than Brian Boru! Wan—two!— Time! Mark! What ’s wur-ruk for chickens is sport for the lark!” Sez Corporal Madden to Private McFadden: “I ’ll not stay a gadd’n Wid dagoes like you! I ’ll travel no farther, I ’m dyin’ for—wather;— Come on, if ye like,— Can ye loan me a quather? Ya-as, you, What,—two? And ye ’ll pay the potheen? Ye ’re a daisy! Whurroo! You ’ll do! Whist! Mark! The Rigiment’s flatthered to own ye, me spark!”