44 CONVERSATIONAL HINTS 



' Scotch Woodcock be blowed ! ' says the captain, 

 who, it must be confessed, does not include an 

 appreciation of delicate humour amongst his 

 numerous merits ; ' Scotch, real Scotch, a noggin 

 of it, my boy, with soda in a long glass ; glug, 

 glug, down it goes, hissin' over the hot coppers. 

 You know the trick, my son, it's no use pretendin'' 

 you don't ' and thereupon the high-spirited 

 warrior dug me good-humouredly in the ribs, and 

 winked at me with an eye which, if the truth 

 must be told, was bloodshot to the very verge of 

 ferocity. 



6 Talkin' of woodcock,' he continued we were 

 now walking along Pall Mall together ' they tell 

 me you're writin' some gas or other about shootin'. 

 Well, if you want a tip from me, just you let into 

 the smokin'-room shots a bit ; you know the sort 

 I mean, fellows who are reg'lar devils at killin' 

 birds when they haven't got a gun in their hands. 

 Why, there's that little son of a corncrake, 

 Flickers when once he gets talkin' in a smokin'- 

 room nothing can hold him. He'd talk the hind 

 leg off a donkey. I know he jolly nearly laid me 

 out, the last time I met him, with all his talk 

 No, you don't,' continued the captain, imagining, 



