M. Or N. "Similia Similibus Curantur." Part 16

In these days the long sittings that delighted our grandfathers have completely given way to an early break up, a quiet cigar, and a general retreat, if not to bed, at least to other scenes and other society. In ten minutes from the rising of the colonel, Lord Bearwarden, and half-a-dozen guests, the larger mess-room was cleared of its inmates, and the smaller one crowded with an exceedingly merry and rather noisy a.s.semblage.

"Just one cigar," said Lord Bearwarden, handing a huge case to his friends. "It will steady you nicely for waltzing, and some eau-de-cologne in my room will take off all the smell afterwards. I know you dancing swells are very particular."

Both gentlemen laughed, and putting large cigars into their mouths, accommodated themselves with exceeding goodwill to the arrangement. It was not in the nature of things that silence should be preserved under such incentives to conversation as tobacco and soda-water with something in it, but presently, above other sounds, a young voice was heard to clamour for a song.

"Let's have a chant!" protested this eager voice; "the night is still young. We're all musical, and we don't often get the two best pipes in the regiment to dine here the same day. Come, tune up, old boy. Give us 'Twisting Jane,' or the 'Gallant Young Hussar.'"

The "old boy" addressed, a large, fine-looking man, holding the appointment of riding-master, smiled good-humouredly, and shook his head. "It's too early for the 'Hussar,'" said he, scanning the fresh beardless face with its clear mirthful eyes. "And it's not an improving song for young officers neither. I'll try 'Twisting Jane' if you gentlemen will support me with the chorus;" and in a deep mellow voice he embarked without more ado on the following barrack-room ditty:--

I loved a girl, down Windsor way, When we was lying there, As soft as silk, as mild as May, As timid as a hare.

She blushed and smiled, looked down so shy, And then--looked up again-- My comrades warned me: 'Mind your eye, With Twisting Jane!'

I wooed her thus, not sure but slow, To kiss she vowed a crime,-- For she was 'reining back,' you know, While I was 'marking time.'

'Alas!' I thought, 'these dainty charms Are not for me, 'tis plain; Too long she keeps me under arms, Does Twisting Jane.'

Our corporal-major says to me, One day before parade, 'She's gammoning you, young chap,' says he, 'Is that there artful jade!

You'll not be long of finding out, When nothing's left to gain, How quick the word is "Threes about!"

With Twisting Jane!'

Our corporal-major knows what's what; I peeped above her blind; The tea was made--the toast was hot-- She looked so sweet and kind.

My captain in her parlour sat, It gave me quite a pain, With coloured clothes, and s.h.i.+ning hat, By Twisting Jane.

The major he came cantering past, She bustled out to see,-- 'O, major! is it you at last?

Step in and take your tea.'

The major halted--winked his eye-- Looked up and down the lane; And in he went his luck to try With Twisting Jane.

I waited at 'attention' there, Thinks I, 'There'll soon be more.'

The colonel's phaeton and pair Came grinding to the door.

She gave him such a sugary smile, (Old men is very vain!) 'It's you I looked for all the while,'

Says Twisting Jane,

'I've done with you for good,' I cried, 'You're never on the square; Fight which you please on either side, But hang it, la.s.s, fight fair!

I won't be last--I can't be first-- So look for me in vain When next you're out "upon the burst,"

Miss Twisting Jane!-- When next you're out "upon the burst,"

Miss Twisting Jane!'

"A jolly good song," cried the affable young gentleman who had instigated the effort, adding, with a quaint glance at the grizzled visage and towering proportions of the singer, "You're very much improved, old chap--not so shy, more power, more volume. If you mind your music, I'll get you a place as a chorister-boy in the Chapel Royal, after all. You're just the size, and your manner's the very thing!"

"Wait till I get _you_ in the school with that new charger," answered the other, laughing. "I think, gentlemen, it's my call. I'll ask our adjutant here to give us 'Boots and Saddles,' you all like that game."

Tumblers were arrested in mid-air, cigars taken from smooth or hairy lips, while all eyes were turned towards the adjutant, a soldier down to his spurs, who "tuned up," as universally requested, without delay.

BOOTS AND SADDLES.

The ring of a bridle, the stamp of a hoof, Stars above, and a wind in the tree,-- A bush for a billet,--a rock for a roof,-- Outpost duty's the duty for me!

Listen. A stir in the valley below-- The valley below is with riflemen crammed, Covering the column and watching the foe-- Trumpet-major!--Sound and be d----d!

Stand to your horses!--It's time to begin-- Boots and Saddles! The Pickets are in!

Though our bivouac-fire has smouldered away, Yet a bit of good 'baccy shall comfort us well; When you sleep in your cloak there's no lodging to pay, And where we shall breakfast the devil can tell!

But the horses were fed, ere the daylight had gone, There's a slice in the embers--a drop in the can-- Take a suck of it, comrade! and so pa.s.s it on, For a ration of brandy puts heart in a man.

Good liquor is scarce, and to waste it a sin,-- Boots and Saddles! The Pickets are in!

Hark! there's a shot from the crest of the hill!

Look! there's a rocket leaps high in the air.

By the beat of his gallop, that's nearing us still, That runaway horse has no rider, I'll swear!

There's a jolly light-infantry post on the right, I hear their bugles--they sound the 'Advance.'

They will tip us a tune that shall wake up the night, And we're hardly the lads to leave out of the dance.

They're at it already, I'm sure, by the din,-- Boots and Saddles! The Pickets are in!

They don't give us long our divisions to prove-- Short, sharp, and distinct, comes the word of command.

'Have your men in the saddle---Be ready to move-- Keep the squadron together--the horses in hand--'

While a whisper's caught up in the ranks as they form-- A whisper that fain would break out in a cheer-- How the foe is in force, how the work will be warm.

But, steady! the chief gallops up from the rear.

With old 'Death-or-Glory' to fight is to win, And the Colonel means mischief, I see by his grin.-- Boots and Saddles! The Pickets are in!-- Boots and Saddles! The Pickets are in!

"And it must be 'Boots and Saddles' with us," said Lord Bearwarden to his guests as the applause subsided and he made a move towards the door, "otherwise we shall be the 'lads to leave out of the dance'; and I fancy that would suit none of us to-night."

CHAPTER XV

MRS. STANMORE AT HOME.

DANCING.

Amongst all the magnificent toilettes composed to do honour to the lady whose card of invitation heads this chapter, none appeared more variegated in colour, more startling in effect, than that of Miss Puckers the maid.

True, circ.u.mstances compelled her to wear a high dress, but even this modest style of costume in the hands of a real artist admits of marvellous combinations and extraordinary breadth of treatment. Miss Puckers had disposed about her person as much ribbon, tulle, and cheap jewelry as might have fitted out a fancy fair. Presiding in a little breakfast-room off the hall, pinning tickets on short red cloaks, shaking out skirts of wondrous fabrication, and otherwise a.s.sisting those beautiful guests who const.i.tuted the entertainment, she afforded a sight only equalled by her after-performances in the tea-room, where, a.s.suming the leaders.h.i.+p of a body of handmaidens almost as smart as herself, she formed, for several waggish and irreverent young gentlemen, a princ.i.p.al attraction in that favourite place of resort.

A ball is so far like a run with fox-hounds that it is difficult to specify the precise moment at which the sport begins. Its votaries gather by twos and threes attired for pursuit; there is a certain amount of refitting practised, as regards dress and appointments, while some of the keenest in the chase are nevertheless the latest arrivals at the place of meeting. Presently are heard a note or two, a faint flourish, a suggestive prelude. Three or four couples get cautiously to work, the music swells, the pace increases, ere long the excitement extends to all within sight or hearing, and a performance of exceeding speed, spirit, and severity is the result.

Puckers, with her mouth full of pins, is rearranging the dress of a young lady in her first season, to whom, as to the inexperienced hunter, that burst of music is simply maddening. She is a well-bred young lady, however, and keeps her raptures to herself, but is slightly indignant at the very small notice taken of her by d.i.c.k Stanmore, who rushes into the tiring-room, drops a flurried little bow, and hurries Puckers off into a corner, totally regardless of the displeasure with which a calm, cold-looking chaperon regards this unusual proceeding.

"Did it come in time?" says d.i.c.k in a loud agitated whisper. "Did you run up with it directly? Was she pleased? Did she say anything? Has she got them on now?"

"Lor, Mr. Stanmore!" exclaims Puckers; "whatever do you mean?"

"Miss Bruce--the diamonds," explains d.i.c.k, in a voice that causes two dandies, recently arrived, to pause in astonishment on the staircase.

"O, the diamonds!" answers Puckers. "Only think, now. Was it _you_, sir? Well, I never. Why, sir, when Miss Bruce opens the packet, not half-an-hour ago, the tears comes into her eyes, and she says, 'Well, this _is_ kind'--them was her very words--'this _is_ kind,' says she, and pops'em on that moment; for I'd done her hair and all. Go up-stairs, Mr. Stanmore, and see how she looks in them. I'll wager she's waiting for Somebody to dance with her this very minute!"

Though it is too often of sadly short duration, every man _has_ his "good time" for a few blissful seconds during life. Let him not complain they are so brief. It is something to have at least tasted the cup, and perhaps it is better to turn with writhing lips from the bitter drop near the brim than, drinking it fairly out, to find its sweets pall on the palate, its essence cease to warm the heart and stimulate the brain.