WOLSELEY’S WAY
One of the neatest stories of how a military officer can do the right thing without sacrifice of dignity is related of the man who afterwards became Commander-in-Chief of the British Army. He was sitting in a high-toned tap-room of Dublin, where privates were not permitted the privilege of the bar. Two finely-built men of a dragoon regiment, wearing long-service stripes, entered and called for drinks, which were curtly refused them. They turned without a word and were retiring in good order.
“Halt!” came sharply from the officer in civilian’s clothes. From sheer force of habit the soldiers obeyed and faced about.
“I can purchase what I want here, I suppose?” said the officer as he advanced to the bar.
“Certainly, sir.”
“Then serve these two gentlemen with what they want,” and there was a pleasant emphasis on the title. “Gentlemen, will you drink with me?”
“With pleasure, sir,” and the happy compact was carried out. Then the dragoons courteously inquired the name of the gentleman who had thrown out the life-line, as it were.
“My name is Wolseley—Colonel Wolseley,” with a smile.
Two pairs of heels went together with a click, two brawny arms went up in salute, and the soldiers departed amid the applause of all who had witnessed the scene.