And after agreeing all round
For years—in this soldierly "maid of the bar,"
A bone of contention they found.
"On the day that you marry her," muttered Prepere
(With a pistol he quietly played),
"I'll scatter the brains in your noddle, I swear,
All over the stony parade!"
"I cannot do that to you," answered La Guerre,
"Whatever events may befall;
But this I can do—if you wed her, mon cher!