"the-daughter-of-the-regiment" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kipling Rudyard)

was left on hand.
'Five childher gone in fourteen months. 'Twas harrd, wasn't ut?
{DAUGHTER_OF_THE_REGIMENT ^paragraph 20}
'So we wint up to our new station in that blazin' heat- may the
curse av Saint Lawrence conshume the man who gave the ordher! Will I
iver forget that move? They gave us two wake thrains to the
rigimint; an' we was eight hundher' and sivinty strong. There was A,
B, C, an' D Companies in the secon' thrain, wid twelve women, no
orficers' ladies, an' thirteen childher. We was to go six hundher'
miles, an' railways was new in thim days. Whin we had been a night
in the belly av the thrain- the men ragin' in their shirts an'
dhrinkin' anything they cud find, an' eatin' bad fruit-stuff whin they
cud, for we cudn't stop 'em- I was a Corp'ril thin- the cholera bruk
out wid the dawnin' av the day.
'Pray to the Saints, you may niver see cholera in a throop-thrain!
'Tis like the judgmint av God hittin' down from the nakid sky! We
run into a rest-camp- as ut might have been Ludianny, but not by any
means so comfortable. The Orficer Commandin' sent a telegrapt up the
line, three hundher' mile up, askin' for help. Faith, we wanted ut,
for ivry sowl av the followers ran for the dear life as soon as the
thrain stopped; an' by the time that telegrapt was writ, there
wasn't a naygur in the station exceptin' the telegrapt-clerk- an' he
only bekaze he was held down to his chair by the scruff av his
sneakin' black neck. Thin the day began wid the noise in the carr'ges,
an' the rattle av the men on the platform fallin' over, arms an'
all, as they stud for to answer the Comp'ny muster-roll before goin'
over to the camp. 'Tisn't for me to say what like the cholera was
like. Maybe the Doctor cud ha' tould, av he hadn't dropped on to the
platform from the door av a carriage where we was takin' out the dead.
He died wid the rest. Some bhoys had died in the night. We tuk out
siven, and twenty more was sickenin' as we tuk thim. The women was
huddled up anyways, screamin' wid fear.
'Sez the Commandin' Orficer whose name I misremember, "Take the
women over to that tope av trees yonder. Get thim out av the camp.
'Tis no place for thim."
'Ould Pummeloe was sittin' on her beddin'-rowl, thryin' to kape
little Jhansi quiet. "Go off to that tope!" sez the Orficer. "Go out
av the men's way!"
'"Be damned av I do!" sez Ould Pummeloe, an' little Jhansi,
squattin' by her mother's side, squeaks out, "Be damned av I do,"
tu. Thin Ould Pummeloe turns to the women an' she sez, "Are ye goin'
to let the bhoys die while you're picnickin', ye sluts?" sez she.
"'Tis wather they want. Come on an' help."
{DAUGHTER_OF_THE_REGIMENT ^paragraph 25}
'Wid that, she turns up her sleeves an' steps out for a well
behind the rest-camp- little Jhansi trottin' behind wid a ®lotahЇ
an' string, an' the other women followin' like lambs, wid
horse-buckets and cookin' pots. Whin all the things was full, Ould
Pummeloe marches back into camp- 'twas like a battlefield wid all
the glory missin'- at the hid av the rigimint av women.