158 RORIE "THE POST." 



coat, originally intended for a person of a much larger 

 mould, with boots to match, and now he stood forth in 

 blue shirt-sleeves, and stockings whose primary hue 

 was lost amid the many-coloured patches with which 

 he had striven to make them last their time. Though 

 once, as he assured us, a fine-looking youth, and a 

 private in the gallant 93rd, he was now considerably 

 under five feet, and being upwards of sixty, his grizzled 

 head and scanty attire contrasted forcibly with the 

 merry countenance, lit up as it was by a broad grin 

 extending nearly from ear to ear. His appearance was 

 greeted with applause and laughter. For a moment, 

 as he stood in the centre of the floor, the very picture 

 of decrepit old age, I wondered how such a one could be 

 expected to dance; but as the music struck up, his 

 little figure became instantly endowed with a wonderful 

 agility and animation. He tossed his arms energetically 

 about, crossed his legs, and then threw them out in 

 opposite directions, shuffled and shook, clashed his 

 heels together, sprang up into the air, and with 

 marvellous rapidity threw himself into every con- 

 ceivable attitude, without once pausing for breath, and 

 all the while keeping most accurate time with the 

 music. This continued for some moments, during 

 which the company were convulsed with laughter, 

 though Rorie himself appeared lost to all around him, 

 carried back possibly to the happy days of his youth, 

 now passed away for ever. 



But at length, when his flushed countenance and 

 loud breathing plainly declared that the old man 

 was becoming exhausted, the music ceased, and the 

 little fellow making his bow to the assembled company, 

 withdrew once more to his dingy corner, and there 

 squatting down, lit up his pipe, to look on with 



