“Sir, it is not expressive enough for our meaning; and therefore we term it ‘rotatory.’ I shall now give you an example of position No. 2.”
Here the commodore made a spring, throwing his body, as a soldier would express it, to the “right about,” bringing, at the same time, his feet entirely on the other side of the line; always rigidly toeing the mark.
“Sir,” said I, “this was extremely well done; but is this evolution as useful as certainly it is dexterous?”
“It has the advantage of changing front, Sir John; a manoeuvre quite as useful in politics as in war. Most all in the line get to practise this, too, as my friend Downright, there, could show you, were he so disposed.”
“I don’t like to expose my flanks, or my rear, more than another,” growled the brigadier.
“If agreeable, I will now show you gyration 2d, or position No. 3.”
On my expressing a strong desire to see it, the commodore put himself again in position No. 1; and then he threw what Captain Poke was in the habit of calling a “flap-jack,” or a summerset; coming down in a way tenaciously to toe the mark.
I was much gratified with the dexterity of the commodore, and frankly expressed as much; inquiring, at the same time, if many attained to the same skill. Both the commodore and the brigadier laughed at the simplicity of the question; the former answering that the people of Leaplow were exceedingly active and adventurous, and both lines had got to be so expert, that, at the word of command, they would throw their summersets in as exact time, and quite as promptly, as a regiment of guards would go through the evolution of slapping their cartridge-boxes.
“What, sir,” I exclaimed, in admiration, “the entire population!”
“Virtually, sir. There is, now and then, a stumbler; but he is instantly kicked out of sight, and uniformly counts for nothing.”