Life — June 6, 1901 — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“HULLY GrE! 1 DIDN'T MEAN DAT Way." Cocktails from the Hills. (With apologies to Rudyard Kipling) Half turned glasses make bitter drinking for the pordan. Indian Saying. THE youngster had been in the Pounarie regiment now for forty years. He had worn the same uniform all the time, for he could not, with his junior sub-subaltern pay, afford to get another. But he brushed it up care- fully every morning, and Hamded, his native servant, burnished the trenje on his helmet till it shone like new. Now, all these forty years the young- ster had been waiting for a leave of absence and it had never come. For of course the youngster was in love. He had told the senior major’s wife all about it, and she was a handsome 487 woman and very tender of the youngster. She agreed with him that his luck was beastly. The youngster was in love with his mother’s parlor-maid at home in England; and the girl was a warm-hearted Irish girl and she loved the youngster in return. I once knew a warm-hearted Irish girl who— but that is another chestnut. Now the senior major's wife was a great talker in a quiet way, and it wasn't a week before every ono from Motirahn to Bouslan knew that the youngster was moaning over a girl in Chelsea, The youngest Poomslaugh girl went white when she heard it, for she cherished a dream in which the youngster played the pat of Hus- band. Now the youngest Poomslaugh girl had a will of herown, and onco she knew that the youngster could. never be hers,she determined that at least he should never be another's. It soon came time to go up into the Hills. The rains had already swept away half the robundobusts and there wasn’t a dhusak to be had for love or money, short of Benhassarah. The two Poomslaugh girls and the senior major's wife went up on horses, and just before they started the youngster came running into the mess where the riding party was assembled. He waved a kirri telegram over his head. “She's coming, blast it ! I've heard from the mater, and Bridget is sailing on the Prophet next week !'"" The senior major's wife was quite motherly about it, and Ran- ceinttor, the other subaltern, who was just married himself, slapped the youngster on the back and con- gratulated him. The youngest Poomslaugh girl, who was just putting her foot into the stirrap as the youngster rode up, sud- denly e a cry and fell to the ground, The youngster was at her side in an instant. They carried her into the mess, and dashed the remains of their cocktails, which were still standing on the table, into her cold, white face. comicbooks.com