implicitly obey the order.

His mother, this Mrs. Judith Hickson, was the only one of my
grand-parents I ever saw, and very little impression she has left on my
memory, except a notion that she had less sense of humour than pertains
to most Irishwomen by the blessing of God and their own mother wit.

My father was a Roman Catholic, and my mother a Protestant. By the terms
of the marriage settlement, we were all brought up in her faith, which
occasioned a tremendous row at that time, and nowadays would never be
tolerated by the priests.

All the same my father was an obstinate man, not disposed to care much
for the whole College of Cardinals, and indifferent if he were cursed
with bell and book. Of course he was not a good-tempered man, or he
would not have justified his nickname of Red Precipitate, but he spared
the rod with me, and failed to keep me in order. I was the youngest of a
pretty large family and the pet into the bargain.

My eldest brother, John, was drowned at St. Malo. He was unmarried, and
his profession was to do nothing as handsomely as he could.

James was in the 13th Light Dragoons, and subsequently in the 11th. He
saw no service, and was an excellent soldier at mess and off duty. I am
not qualified to speak with authority about his fulfilment of the
trumpery trivialities which fill up garrison life, but here is one
anecdote about him.

Soon after Lord Cardigan took command of the 13th Light Dragoons, a
great many of the officers left the corps, and a man wrote to the papers