I jumped overboard."
"Changed your mind?"
"Well, I'd thought some of enlisting for the Chilian War, but Irish
don't like war. Gives him the fidgits. I made a 'Farewell' going out.
I thought I'd come round and tell it to you." He sang hoarsely as
follows:
"Tommy and Dorcas, now adieu;
I drops a briny tear on,
Mayor, my memories of you;
Stevey that brought the beer on;
Farewell across the waters blue,
Oh, Jiron.
"Farewell the nights of ba'my smell,
Farewell the alligator,
Special them little ones that dwell
In the muck hole with their mater.
Farewell, Portate, oh, farewell,
Equator."
"You see," he says, "the point of going to war is this way, because
"The damage you do
Ain't totted to you
But explained by the habits of nations.
"Government pays the bills, commissary, sanitary, and them that's
sent to God Almighty. I guess so. But it'd give Irish the fidgits.
Then the Transport's got a three-master billed for San Francisco, and
she sails to-morrow morning, and we're going on her." He seemed
subdued, and hummed and strummed on his banjo, as if he couldn't get
hold of what he wanted to let out.
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