Oldham.—Oh! no, no; 'twouldn't do for me to be playing matches with a raw recruit like that: 'twouldn't be dignified.
O'Sheevo.—Would it be more dignified if I said three to two?
Oldham.—Say two to one and I don't mind a rubber;—one rubber, remember.
O'Sheevo.—Done then. Let's have it to-morrow, if we can. West comes off guard in the morning, so there's the more chance of his being steady and willing to play; when they get hold of him overnight, he's always shaky and sulky next day till four or five o'clock. A bad constitution is a sad tell-tale under a red coat; a bishop chokes, or an anti-corn-law leaguer is attacked with pleurisy from his exertions in the cause of humanity; a lawyer's nose gets red from having his mind continually on the stretch; but if an ensign's colours only tremble a little in a strong gale, he's set down for a hard goer.
Pipeclay.—It's a great thing to be able to carry one's liquor well.
O'Sheevo.—Rather it's a dreadful misfortune when you can't. I always fancy that when a man can't show a bold face the morning after, he's been a great sinner.
Oldham.—Or that his forefathers have been so; I believe that posterity have to expiate the sins of their ancestors.
O'Sheevo.—But, as a man can neither be his ancestors nor his posterity, I don't see that he need mind that.
Pipeclay.—His ancestors' posterity is surely his affair.
O'Sheevo.—It's quite enough for a man to think of his own posterity without minding that of his ancestors.