THE GOLD SNUFF-BOX. 179 



'* Was that the time you stole the snuff-box ?" asked the 

 commander. 



' ' 1 steal a snuff-box \ No I deny the theft I was only 

 an accessary after all. But, to clear my character, I must t& 

 the story to my cousin." 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



THE GOLD SNUFF-BOX 



IT was the spring before my father's death. A vacation 

 was at hand, and for some college irregularities, I had been 

 deprived of my chambers as a punishment, and turned upon 

 the town to shift as I best could. I fixed myself at the 

 Wexford Hotel for the short time I intended remaining in 

 the capital, and there formed my first acquaintance with 



Colonel B and Lieutenant K , both of the 



Militia. 



They arrived at " The Wexford" late one evening from 

 Naas, where the regiment was then quartered, and were on 

 their route to visit, on private business, "the realms beyond 

 the Shannon." 



I was alone in the parlour when the strangers arrived. 

 They cast a wistful eye at a choice haddock, then in the 

 very act of being served up as exordium to the dinner. 

 The waiter in a whisper assured the belated travellers that 

 he was convinced the young gentleman, meaning me, would 

 share his fish and table-cloth. The request was very politely 

 made, very politely granted, and down we sat, as if we had 

 been bosom friends for a twelvemonth. 



The colonel was an overgrown bombard a vessel full- 

 charged with good-humour and old port. He said odd things, 

 and did them too. The subaltern was a squab-built snub- 

 nosed strange sort of merry fellow, having a rich brogue and 

 racy wit ; and while the corpulent commander believed that 

 ne was humbugging the short lieutenant, the short lieutenant, 

 all the while, was playing the devil with the corpulent 

 commander. No two persons were ever better constructed 



N 2 



