We were suggesting to a military young gentleman only the other
day, after he had related to us several dazzling instances of the
profusion of half-a-dozen honourable ensign somebodies or nobodies
in the articles of kid gloves and polished boots, that possibly
'cracked' regiments would be an improvement upon 'crack,' as being
a more expressive and appropriate designation, when he suddenly
interrupted us by pulling out his watch, and observing that he must
hurry off to the Park in a cab, or he would be too late to hear the
band play. Not wishing to interfere with so important an
engagement, and being in fact already slightly overwhelmed by the
anecdotes of the honourable ensigns afore-mentioned, we made no
attempt to detain the military young gentleman, but parted company
with ready good-will.
Some three or four hours afterwards, we chanced to be walking down
Whitehall, on the Admiralty side of the way, when, as we drew near
to one of the little stone places in which a couple of horse
soldiers mount guard in the daytime, we were attracted by the
motionless appearance and eager gaze of a young gentleman, who was
devouring both man and horse with his eyes, so eagerly, that he
seemed deaf and blind to all that was passing around him. We were
not much surprised at the discovery that it was our friend, the
military young gentleman, but we WERE a little astonished when we
returned from a walk to South Lambeth to find him still there,
looking on with the same intensity as before.
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