And now Mr. Hoskins asking if any gentleman would volunteer a song, what
was our amazement when the simple Colonel offered to sing himself. Poor
Clive Newcome blushed as red as a peony, and I thought what my own
sensations would have been if, in that place, my own uncle Major
Pendennis had suddenly proposed to exert his lyrical powers.

The Colonel selected the ditty of "Wapping Old Stairs," and gave his
heart and soul to the simple ballad. When the song was over, Clive held
up his head too, and looked round with surprise and pleasure in his
eyes. The Colonel bowed and smiled with good nature at our plaudits. "I
learnt that song forty years ago," he said, turning round to his boy. "I
used to slip out from Grey Friars to hear it. Lord! Lord! how the time
passes!"

Whilst he was singing his ballad, there had reeled into the room my
friend Captain Costizan, in his usual condition at this hour of the
night.

"Captain Costizan, will you take something to drink?"

"Bedad I will," says the Captain, "and I'll sing ye a song too."

Having procured a glass of whisky and water, the unlucky wretch, who
scarcely knew what he was doing or saying, selected one of the most
outrageous of what he called his prime songs, and began his music. At
the end of the second verse, the Colonel started up, and looking as
ferocious as though he had been going to do battle with a Pindaree,
roared out "Silence!"

"Do you dare, sir," cries the Colonel, trembling with anger, "to call