Oldham.—Good. Then this is our coast well manned, throughout its length, with troops: steady tried troops, mind, none of your gaping, staring boys:—well protected.
Pipeclay.—How protected?
Oldham.—How should I know? The engineers do that; of course they'd protect 'em with glacis, or ravelins or tenailles, or some of those damned jawbreaking named things;—well protected by works and cannon.
O'Sheevo.—Did you see that extraordinary cannon that West made in the mess-room this morning?
Pipeclay.—Ah! yes,—not bad, but I've seen finer strokes than that. You should have seen Legge of the 32d play.
Lovell.—Or Chowse of the artillery; by Jove! how he knocks about the balls! like an Indian juggler.
O'Sheevo.—Both good hands; ye're not a bad fist at billiards yourself, Oldham.
Oldham.—I seldom play now;—getting old;—played many a good match in the 107th's mess-room; but I think I could astonish Master West.
Pipeclay.—Well, if he'll play a match, I don't mind backing him against you even.
O'Sheevo.—And I'll go five to four on the youngster to make the thing worth your while.