Merely kape still.

Ye've met your first reverse, an' ye've had your outposts cut up a bit, an' ye think the ind o' the worrld has come.

Now, mind me, ould Batty, who's seen the lands; only do ye attind to dhrill an' sinthry-go an' commissariat, till in time ye find your forces in thrim again.

By thin luk out fer heads stickin' up over the hills on the side o' the inimy, who'll be wonderin' what's goin' on.

'Go 'way,' she says to you, an' you go.
'Come back,' she whispers to herself, an' you don't hear it.