limpse of me the boy jumped up from the table, ran to
me with his hands out, and, blushing, said, "Don't you know me?"

It was little Newcome, my schoolfellow, whom I had not seen for six
years, grown a fine tall young stripling now, with the same bright blue
eyes which I remembered when he was quite a little boy.

"What the deuce brings you here?" said I.

He laughed and looked roguish. "My father--that's my father--would come.
He's just come back from India. He says all the wits used to come here.
I told him your name, and that you used to be very kind to me when I
first went to Smithfield. I've left now: I'm to have a private tutor."

Here the whiskered gentleman, Newcome's father, strode across the room
to the table where we sat, and held out his hand to me.

"I have heard of your kindness, sir," says he, "to my boy. And whoever
is kind to him is kind to me. Will you allow me to sit down by you? and
may I beg of you to try my cheroots."

We were friends in a minute--young Newcome snuggling by my side, and his
father opposite.

It was worth a guinea to see the simple Colonel, and his delight at the
music. He became quite excited over his sherry-and-water. He joined in
all the choruses with an exceedingly sweet voice; and when Hoskins sang
(as he did admirably) "The Old English Gentleman," and described the
death of that venerable aristocrat, tears trickled down the honest
warrior's cheek.

And now Mr. Hoskins asking if any gentleman would volunteer a song, what
was our amazement when the simple Colonel offered to sing himself. Poor
Clive Newcome blushed as red as a peony, and I thought what my own
sensations would have been if, in that place, my own uncle Major
Pendennis had suddenly proposed to exert his lyrical powers.

The Colonel selected the ditty of "Wapping Old Stairs," and gave his
heart and soul to the simple ballad. When the song was over, Clive held
up his head too, and looked round with surprise and pleasure in his
eyes. The Colonel bowed and smiled with good nature at our plaudits. "I
learnt that song forty years ago," he said, turning round to his boy. "I
used to slip out from Grey Friars to hear it. Lord! Lord! how the time
passes!"

Whilst he was singing his ballad, there had reeled into the room my
friend Captain Costizan, in his usual condition at this hour of the
night.

"Captain Costizan, will you take something to drink?"

"Bedad I will," says the Captain, "and I'll sing ye a song t