Mess-waiter. Rabbits, and the cold beef, Sir.
All. The cold beef! The eternal cold beef!
Mess-waiter. Gentlemen, I assure you the market was so bad to-day, that we could only find that turkey; but the beef is very sweet and good yet.
Ensign Newly. Mind, that we have no hashed or deviled turkey this week.
[looking significantly at the dirtied bird.]
Mess-waiter. Oh no Sir; we’ll eat this ourselves.
Ensign Newly. You will have fine sand sauce then.
[Hash and harrico are now served out amongst the half-grumbling, half-laughing mess, but a glass or two of wine restore matters a little; the rabbits and beef are scarcely tasted, and dinner is concluded on cheese and stale tarts.]
Ensign Luby. Send round the wine, Mr. President. I have just touched the cash to-day. Old dad has sent me a fifty, and I am determined to be comfortable.
President. Then I’ll send in your wine account to-morrow, my lad.