"It's too bad, boys; it was the most cutting, sarcastic thing that perhaps ever was heard. You see, I was stationed at Uxbridge; you know Uxbridge, p'raps—situated on a hill. I was captain, then; young and foolish—very foolish. I wrote poetry. I couldn't do it now. I never have since; I wish I hadn't then. For, do you see, it was the most cruel, cutting thing—"
The major emptied his glass.
"Go on, major," said Ned, filling for him again.
"Ah, boys—sad work—it cut him down. I was young, as I said—stationed at Uxbridge—only a captain then, and wrote poetry. It was there the thing happened. It's not modest to say it, but really, a more cutting thing—fill up your glasses, my boys.
"I became acquainted with a family of the name of Porter—friends of the colonel; pray remember the name—Porter. There was a daughter, Miss Porter. Keep the name in mind, if you please. Uxbridge, as you know, is situated on a hill. About fifteen miles away was stationed another regiment. Now, a young officer of this regiment was very attentive to Miss Porter; don't forget the name, I beg of you.
"He was only a lieutenant, a second son—nothing but his pay to live on; and the old people did not fancy his attentions, being, as I said, second son, lieutenant; which was very sensible in them.
"They gave him a hint or two, which he didn't take. Finally they applied to me, Captain M'Gowd, at that time, begging me to use my influence in the matter. I had not the pleasure of acquaintance with the lieutenant; though, apart from his being second son, lieutenant, small pay, &c., I knew nothing in the world against the poor fellow.
"The more's the pity, boys; as I had no right to address him directly on the subject, I determined to hit him off in a few lines of poetry—those fatal, sarcastic lines!" sighed the major, finishing his glass.
"I had the reputation of being witty, and a poet; and though I say it myself—was uncommonly severe.
"They commenced in this way," (the major threw himself into attitude.)