'You are one of
those d-d prudent fellows that I could never abide with,' said I.
'You are the kind of man that has a long head. That's all the
world, my dear sir: the long-heads and the short-horns! Now, I am
a short-horn.' 'I doubt,' says he, 'that you will not go very far
without getting sheared.' I offered to bet with him on that, and
he made off, shaking his head.
But my particular delight was to enlarge on politics and the war.
None damned the French like me; none was more bitter against the
Americans. And when the north-bound mail arrived, crowned with
holly, and the coachman and guard hoarse with shouting victory, I
went even so far as to entertain the company to a bowl of punch,
which I compounded myself with no illiberal hand, and doled out to
such sentiments as the following:-
'Our glorious victory on the Nivelle'! 'Lord Wellington, God bless
him! and may victory ever attend upon his arms!' and, 'Soult, poor
devil! and may he catch it again to the same tune!'
Never was oratory more applauded to the echo--never any one was
more of the popular man than I. I promise you, we made a night of
it. Some of the company supported each other, with the assistance
of boots, to their respective bedchambers, while the rest slept on
the field of glory where we had left them; and at the breakfast
table the next morning there was an extraordinary assemblage of red
eyes and shaking fists.
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