"I riverince the man, for there's few can beat him sober.

Knocked Patsy into hospital an' him foightin' dhrunk! Faith, he must be another Oirish gintleman himself, indade." "He's a Scotchman and was middle-weight champion of India last year," rejoined Dam, and moistened his block of pipe-clay again in the most obvious, if least genteel, way.
"Annyhow he's a mere Hussar and must be rimonsthrated wid for darin' to assault and batther a Dhraghoon--an' him dhrunk, poor bhoy.

Say the wurrud, Matty.

We'll lay for the spalpeen, the whole of E Troop, at the _Ring o' Bells_, an' whin he shwaggers in like he was a Dhraghoon an' a sodger, ye'll up an' say _'Threes about'_ an' act accordin' subsequint, an' learn the baste not to desthroy an' insult his betthers of the Ould Second.

Thread on the tail of his coat, Matty...." "If I had anything to do with it at all I'd tread on Flannigan's coat, and you can tell him so, for disgracing the Corps....