Lovell.—Why you see, Oldham, they say you old hands won't let out while all the mess are here, and you keep your opinions and experiences for these cosy little horse-shoe sittings. I should like to pick up a little soldiering, if I could, and so have ventured to outsit the rest of them.
O'Sheevo.—Ye're right, ye're right. A man that comes to value his claret early, has all the advantages of experience, without buying them dear. An old head upon young shoulders, in fact.
Pipeclay.—And, you see, the youngster has an eye to a little military information: that's right.
Lovell.—Why, these rumours of invasion make one look about him. If the French come, of course we shall give 'em an infernal good licking; but I am anxious to get an idea what sort of thing it will be, and I daresay you talk a good deal of these matters.
O'Sheevo.—Ah! them French! Oldham, ye don't expect they'll come to spend next Christmas with us?
Oldham.—There's no saying what the rascals might be at; and as Lovell has broached the subject, we may as well talk it over.
O'Sheevo.—Bravo! so we will: how say you, Pipeclay?
Pipeclay.—By all means. You know I mentioned last night how ill I thought our formations adapted for manœuvring against a hostile force on the coast.
Oldham.—My dear Pipeclay, it is the misfortune of a long peace, and a theoretical education, that they narrow the mind to strain at matters of detail, and to neglect the greater consideration, what is to be done—not how should we do it. Now, in the old second battalion of the 107th, the lads were more apt to talk of the work than the drill-book, and a finer or more dashing set never wore scarlet.
O'Sheevo.—Devil a doubt of it: not a man that wouldn't finish his three bottles before he'd think of stirring; and as for the seasoned files, the night was always too short for 'em. There's no saying what those men might have achieved, if they could have found the time.