The more, an' please your honour, the pity, said the corporal; in uttering which he cast his spade into the wheel-barrow, which was beside him, with an air the most expressive of disconsolation that can be imagined, and was heavily turning about to look for his pickax, his pioneer's shovel, his picquets, and other little military stores, in order to carry them off the field----when a heigh-ho! 
'The more's the pity,' said the corporal. He cast his spade into the wheel-barrow with a disconsolate air, and was heavily turning around to look for his pickaxe and shovel, to carry them off the field - when a 'heigh-ho!' 