The Child of Waterloo, or, The Horrors of the Battle-Field — page 307: what you’re looking at

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

hod THE CHILD OF WATERLOO. You see, sir, I’ve been in your sarvice a good while, so { thought I’d take you on again. Where’s the wonder of that ?” ‘‘But where’s your wife, Rafferty *” said Mrs. Morton. ‘‘ ?m afraid we cannot have your wife.” ‘“¢ Afraid, marm—afraid you can’t have her? Faith, and I’d be afraid if you could, marm.” ‘Well, but, Rafferty, where is she?” said the captain. ‘«s Atween you and me and the post, captain, it’s not worth asking about. Here I am again—let by-gones be by-gones. Sorrow take the Christian as would throw a fellow’s misfortunes in his face!” ‘But you must tell us,” said Henry: ‘‘ we can’t encourage men leaving their wives.” ‘You can’t encourage, Mr. Henry? Nobody asked you, sir. It be a few, indeed, would be encouraged by you, sir. I wish Td had Miss Mabel myself instead of you. She couldn’t have took to British brandy like Mrs. Rafferty, and fell down a trap- door and broke her neck!” | ‘Oh, that is it, is it?’ said the captain; ‘‘then you are a widower, Rafferty ?” ‘‘'Yes, sir; and what’s happened is a what’-a-name te me-- a great something:” but he added something about beer or ale, —‘‘oh! I have it, sir, a great morale lesson. J've been through a campaign or two, captain, but this has ‘been just the worst; so say no more about it.” They did respect Rafferty’s feelings, now they really found what had happened, and Rafferty himself quietly slid into his ordinary employments again; and nothing could give him greater offense than any allusion to his brief sojourn in the realms matrimonial, It was a great pleasure to Mabel, as well as to Henry, and, in fact, to all the Morton family, to provide for Troubled Tom; but the great difficulty was, how to provide for him; for, although they got him a great number of employments, he went to sleep so perpetually that he was really of no use to any one, and at last it became quite a puzzle among the family to know what to do with him; and then Troubled Tom, in an extraordinary fit of wakefulness, came out with a suggestion himself, ‘Oh, dear,” he said, ‘‘it’s a great bore to have to say any- thing. I—I should like a little bit of sleep somewhere, only no- body’ll let me have it. Now, I tells yer what——” At this juneture Troubled Tom. gave evident symptoms of leaving off and taking a nap; but, after being well shaken, he resumed, and actually proposed that a chair should be appro- peau to him in any field, the produce of which was likely to. e much attacked by birds, and there be allowed to fall asleep all day, doing the duty of an animated scare-crow. This, of course, the Mortons would not agree to; so he lived at the Hall, and dozed away his time by the kitchen fire, alike insensible to the boiling over of pots and pans and the scolding of the cook, . . . * + Reader, we have brought our eventful history to a close, and comicbooks. com