Tom stamped and laughed at my query, like a madman, to the astonishment of all present.
“Here,” said he, in a whisper, and pulling me aside “you great griff you! chicks are sequins, or chequins abbreviated to chicks;—not fowls, as you imagine: have you never heard that before?”
“Never,” said I.
“What’s the joke, Rattleton, what’s the joke?” said the colonel, good-humouredly; “come, let’s have it, and don’t keep it all to yourself.”
“Oh, nothing, sir, nothing particular, sir,” said Tom; “nothing, but rather a griffinish query of my friend Gernon’s, which tickled me a little.”
“I am afraid you are rather too hard upon him,” said, the colonel; “remember, Rattleton, I could tell a few stories of griffins if I chose.”
Tom felt the rebuke, and had the laugh turned against him.
The colonel now addressed me, and, in a very kind and encouraging manner, eulogized the way in which I had acquitted myself on my first appearance in public, adding, “I hope we shall send you to your regiment up the country quite a proficient, and calculated to reflect credit on your instructors in the Zubberdust Bullumteers.”
As our worthy commandant was anxious that I should have an insight into the various branches of military duty, the adjutant was desired to make me attend regimental courts-martial, invaliding committees, guard mountings, &c., that I might see how these duties were carried on.
The first court-martial I attended was a regimental one for the trial of a black drummer for theft.