Major Flowers. I have heard the rumour.
Capt. Tache. Indeed!
Lieut. Lavender. Shocking!
Cornet Small. Horrible!
Col. Diamond. They dine so early as six, too.
All the Mess. Oh! Oh! that will never do.
Major Flowers. Besides, their scarlet trowsers are not wide enough; and I have seen positively a grey hair on one of their whiskers. In short, we must go to Lady Mary's ball, to cut them out at once.
All the Mess. Certainly, at once!
Colonel (to his servant). John! I'll dress at twelve; and d' y' hear, I'll wear my long ball spurs.
Dr. Scott (to his servant). Sandy!