"It's been a sad day to all of us, except the Colonel.

Of course, I never attempt to criticise Colonel Fortescue's professional conduct, but I do feel lost without Kettle." "Well, mum," replied Mrs.McGillicuddy, "I haven't been a sergeant's wife for twenty years without findin' out that nobody can't say a word about the orficers, but I do think, mum, as three days in the guardhouse for poor Kettle, who was bamboozled by Tim Gully and Mike Halligan, is one of the cruelest things a commandin' orficer ever done.
Not that I'm a-criticisin' the Colonel, mum--I wouldn't do such a thing for the world." "Nor would I," replied Mrs.Fortescue meekly, and fully conscious of the Colonel's presence in the next room, shaving himself savagely, "but three days for such a little thing does seem hard." Colonel Fortescue ground his teeth and gave himself such a jab with his razor that the blood came.
This subtle persecution of the Colonel went on, with variations, for three whole days.
On the Friday when Kettle's time was up he was released and his return was hailed with open delight by his partisans, Mrs.Fortescue, Mrs.
McGillicuddy and the After-Clap, and with secret relief by the Colonel, Anita and Sergeant McGillicuddy.
Kettle, on reporting to the Colonel, said solemnly, "Kun'l, I ain't never goin' ter try an' enlist no mo', so help me Gord A'mighty.

An' I ain't a'goin' to pay no more 'tention to the chaplain's sermons, 'cause 'twuz that there chaplain as fust got me in this here mess, cuss him!" This last was under Kettle's breath, and the Colonel pretended not to hear..