human
maimed as they were. The monotony of hospital camp-life made them restless; the rules they found irksome, and constantly evaded; they growled, complained, were always
gpt
or to relate some of my own experiences, trying to make their hardships seem less, listening to their complaints, meaning in earnest to speak to Dr. Beatty regarding palpable wrongs. This I did not fail to do, and whenever the doctor's sense of justice was aroused, he promptly acted on the right side. I do not wish to convey to my readers the idea that there were men always sullen and disagreeable. Far from it, they were a jolly set of men when in a good humor, and, like all Irishmen, full of wit and humor. After I became known to them their gentle, courteous treatment of me never varied. They were very fond of playing cards, but whenever I appeared upon one of the avenues, every card would disappear. Not one ever failed to salute me, often adding a
human
God bless you, ma'am, may the heavens be your bed, etc. Disliking to interfere with their only amusement, I let them know that I did not dislike to see them playing cards. At this they were very pleased, saying,
gpt
Sure, it's no harrum; it's not gambling we are; divil a cint have we to win or lose. One day I stopped to look on a moment at a game of euchre. One of the players had lost an arm (close to the shoulder). Said he,
human
Sure, ma'am, it's bating the b'ys intirely, I am. I did not understand, so he explained, with a comic leer at the others,--
gpt
Sure, haven't I always the '_lone hand_' on thim? At once I recalled a similar remark made by an Irish soldier lying in the hospital at Newnan, who had just lost one of his legs; when I condoled with him, he looked up brightly, and, pointing at his remaining foot, explained,
human
Niver mind, this feller _will go it alone and make it_.