Julia, then, Jowler, and Mrs. J., were at luncheon; the dear girl
was in the act to sabler a glass of Hodgson as I entered. "How do
you do, Mr. Gagin?" said the old hag, leeringly. "Eat a bit o'
currie-bhaut,"--and she thrust the dish towards me, securing a heap
as it passed. "What! Gagy my boy, how do, how do?" said the fat
Colonel. "What! run through the body?--got well again--have some
Hodgson--run through your body too!"--and at this, I may say,
coarse joke (alluding to the fact that in these hot climates the
ale oozes out as it were from the pores of the skin) old Jowler
laughed: a host of swarthy chobdars, kitmatgars, sices, consomahs,
and bobbychies laughed too, as they provided me, unasked, with the
grateful fluid. Swallowing six tumblers of it, I paused nervously
for a moment, and then said -

"Bobbachy, consomah, ballybaloo hoga."

The black ruffians took the hint, and retired.

"Colonel and Mrs. Jowler," said I solemnly, "we are alone; and you,
Miss Jowler, you are alone too; that is--I mean--I take this
opportunity to--(another glass of ale, if you please)--to express,
once for all, before departing on a dangerous campaign"--(Julia
turned pale)--"before entering, I say, upon a war which may stretch
in the dust my high-raised hopes and me, to express my hopes while
life still remains to me, and to declare in the face of heaven,
earth, and Colonel Jowler, that I love you, Julia!" The Colonel,
astonished, let fall a steel fork, which stuck quivering for some
minutes in the calf of my leg; but I heeded not the paltry
interruption. "Yes, by yon bright heaven," continued I, "I love
you, Julia! I respect my commander, I esteem your excellent and