1830] The United Service Smoke-shop: a Winter Sketch. 547 



Enter landlord and waiter. 



Major Claymore. Gentlemen will now please to order what they may 

 require for the ensuing hour. 



Lt. Col. Towlter. A bottom of whiskey, hot water, and materials. 



MacCarthy. Ditto, ditto. Burgoyne, what shall I order for you? 



Burgoyne. A pint of port. 



Omnes. Chair, chair ! 



Major Claymore. Mester Bourgyne ! I beg to mention, that it is 

 against regulation to have wine served in this shop, except on our monthly 

 dining days. 



Lt. Col. Towlter. Have you seen any thing of my friend Sir Hugo 

 lately ? are his accounts passed ? 



Vino. My excellent friend Sir Hugo is now in town toiling away at 

 them ; but he expects that all his accounts will be audited and reported 

 on this session. 



Major Claymore. Then it is to be hoped he will receive the deegnity 

 which the duke recommended him for at the close of the war. 



Vino. I don't know that, major ; at the close of the war, the duke's 

 heart seemed warm with the recollection of recent services ; and the sun 

 of his favour appeared to shine on the humble labours of those who 

 assisted to place him at the top of the ladder of greatness ; of late years, 

 however, this feeling has marvellously cooled ; and I fear my friend Sir 

 Hugo, amongst others, has felt the chill of his frozen countenance. But 

 even should the long promised dignity of baronet be granted after all, 

 it would prove but an empty honour, unless accompanied by a more 

 substantial reward (for thirty-five years' honourable and meritorious ser- 

 vice), than his paltry half-pay of nine and twenty shillings a day. 



LL Col. Towlter. NINE and TWENTY SHILLINGS! why, his/ull pay 

 was FIVE POUNDS a day, was it not ? 



Vino. True, colonel ; his full pay was FIVE POUNDS a day ; but the 

 HALF of that pay melted down in the treasury crucible is, by some re- 

 finement (inexplicable to all but the favoured and mind-illumined few 

 of that building), found to be exactly TWENTY-NINE SHILLINGS and 



THREE-PENCE ! ! 



Lt. Col. Towlter. Good encouragement that to integrity ! and no bad 

 hint to " make hay while the sun shines" eh ! Mr. Vino ? 



Vino. Hem, hem ! (becomes suddenly husky.) 



Capt. Geehogan. May I ask Mr. Vino what became of the store- 

 keeper's department, to whose service a brigade of our corps was atr 

 tached for upwards of a year ; lugging about their cases and band-boxes 

 all over the country, from Lisbon to the Pyrenees, and then back again 

 to the cloisters of Belem ? 



Major Claymore. I have often wished to ask you, Mester Vino, how 

 that money was accounted for which, you recollect, was hurled over cliffs, 

 and thrown into ditches on our retreat in Gallicia; I'm told it amounted 

 to upwards of seventy thousand pounds I ! ! 



Vino. My dear major, I can answer you in a few words, a " wet 

 blanket" was thrown over that matter, and why ? the chief of our de- 

 partment at that time was himself, one of the wooden gods of Scotland 

 Yard in other words, he was an army comptroller. All his accounts 

 were audited con amore (" Hawks dont pick hawks' eyes out." ) 



Major Claymore. But government sent out an audit establishment, with 



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