Hoof Beats 



to drink. Now, it's a well-known thing in Delhi, 

 and 'arf of Hengland for that, that the capt'in 

 don't drink 'ard liquor. 'E 'ad broke 'is favorite 

 'orse's neck, so the story goes, one day on Epsom 

 Downs when 'e'd been looking on the bottle and 

 wasn't fit to ride. Well, everybody looks around 

 for a minute, as they know 'e don't like to be 

 arsked, to 'ear what the capt'in will say. It 

 seems 'e 'as known the major before, and I fawncy 

 don't think much of 'is style, for 'e looks up and 

 says with a smile: 



** * Major,' 'e says, 'you know very well I don't 

 drink; won't you 'ave a cup o' my tea?' The 

 major is the kind I spoke of — them that is, or 

 ought to be, but ain't — though the Ponsonby 

 name is a thousand years older than Clinton, even 

 if the capt'in's father ain't a manufactured lord. 

 So the major, who is a sort of a bounder at 'eart, 

 larfs and rings for the boy. 



'* *Get me a man's drink, a B. and S., and leave 

 the capt'in 'is tea.' 'E says it narsty like, with 

 a mean, sarcastic air, but they tell me the capt'in 

 only chuckled. 



" * What's your objection to tea, major?' 'e says 

 it provokingly slow; 'hit's a 'armless beverage, 

 takin' it all in all,' and 'e arf closes 'is eyes at 

 our colonel, who's red in the face with rage — 

 'cause you see it*s a kind of an insult to the regi- 



