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Rh “No, sis! Not for many a day now. Saw too much of it in camp. Big, grand, corking good chaps down and out from it. Days and days in jail, military jail, you know, and finally finding a ‘bad conduct’ stamp on Company books. No, sir; I’m off it, for good!”

On old Lady Flanagan’s porch Mary sat way past midnight with, no, not with Norman, only, but with two khaki-clad boys; and it was miraculous that that small, loving childish bosom could hold so much joy! Old Lady Flanagan in nightgown and cap, looking down a front stairway, (and Old Man Flanagan, also in nightgown and cap, and also looking down), said:—

“Arrah!! Go wan oop stairs, you snoopin’ varmit!”

“Who’s a snoopin’ varmint? Not you, of”

“Go wan oop, I say! By golly! That darlin’ girl has found a mountain of gold wid Norman an’”

“Who’s that wid Norman? That guy’s around, nights, now, as—”

“Say, you!! Do you go oop? Or do I swat you?”