covered with rings, he had a dusky
down over his upper lip which looked not unlike a moustache, and a
multiplicity of frogs and braiding on his surtout which would have
sufficed to lace a field-marshal. When old Swishtail, the usher, passed
in his seedy black coat and gaiters, Jack gave him such a look of
contempt as set us all a-laughing: in fact it was his turn to laugh now;
for he used to roar very stoutly some months before, when Swishtail was
in the custom of belaboring him with his great cane.

Jack's talk was all about the regiment and the fine fellows in it: how
he had ridden a steeple-chase with Captain Boldero, and licked him at
the last hedge; and how he had very nearly fought a duel with Sir George
Grig, about dancing with Lady Mary Slamken at a ball. "I soon made the
baronet know what it was to deal with a man of the n--th," said Jack.
"Dammee, sir, when I lugged out my barkers, and talked of fighting
across the mess-room table, Grig turned as pale as a sheet, or as--"

"Or as you used to do, Attwood, when Swishtail hauled you up," piped out
little Hicks, the foundation-boy.

It was beneath Jack's dignity to thrash anybody, now, but a grown-up
baronet; so he let off little Hicks, and passed over the general titter
which was raised at his expense. However, he entertained us with his
histories about lords and ladies, and so-and-so "of ours," until we
thought him one of the greatest men in his Majesty's service, and
until the school-bell rung; when, with a heavy heart, we got our books
together, and marched in to be whacked by old Swishtail. I promise you
he revenged himself on us for Jack's contempt of him. I got that day at
least twenty cuts to my share, which ought to have belonged to Cornet
Attwood, of the n--th dragoons.

When we came to think more coolly over our quondam schoolfellow's
swaggering talk and manner, we were not quite so impressed by his merits
as at his first appearance among us. We recollected how he used, in
former times, to tell us great stories, which were so monstrously
improbable that the smallest boy in the school would scout them; how
often we caught him tripping in facts, and how unblushingly he admitted
his little errors in the score of veracity. He and I, though never great
friends, had been close companions: I was Jack's form-fellow (we fought
with amazing emulation for the LAST place in the class); but still I was
rather hurt at the coolness of my old comrade, who had forgot