It wasn't well there, when the officer pulled up his horse quite short, and shouted out, 'Sentry! sentry!' "'Anan ?' says my father, still covering him.
"'Down with your musket you rascal.

Don't you see it's the grand round ?' "'To be sure I do,' says my father, never changing for a minute.
"'The ruffian will shoot me,' says the general.
"'Devil a fear,' says my father, 'av it doesn't go off of itself.' "'What do you mean by that, you villian ?' says the general, scarcely able to speak with fright, for every turn he gave on his horse, my father followed with the gun,--what do you mean ?' "'Sure, ain't I presenting ?' says my father.

'Blood an ages! do you want me to fire next ?' "With that the general drew a pistol from his holster, and took deliberate aim at my father; and there they both stood for five minutes, looking at each other, the orderly all the while breaking his heart laughing behind a rock; for, ye see, the general knew av he retreated that my father might fire on purpose, and av he came on, that he might fire by chance,--and sorra bit he knew what was best to be done.
"'Are ye going to pass the evening up there, grand round ?' says my father; 'for it's tired I'm getting houldin' this so long.' "'Port arms!' shouted the general, as if on parade.
"'Sure I can't, till yer past,' says my father, angrily; 'and my hands trembling already.' "'By Heavens! I shall be shot,' says the general.
"'Be-gorra, it's what I'm afraid of,' says my father; and the words wasn't out of his mouth before off went the musket, bang!--and down fell the general, smack on the ground, senseless.

Well the orderly ran out at this, and took him up and examined his wound; but it wasn't a wound at all, only the wadding of the gun.

For my father--God be kind to him!--ye see, could do nothing right; and so he bit off the wrong end of the cartridge when he put it in the gun, and, by reason, there was no bullet in it.