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

And, having procured a glass of whisky-and-water from the passing waiter,
the poor old man, settling his face into a horrid grin, and leering, as
he was wont when he gave what he called one of his prime songs, began his
music.

The unlucky wretch, who scarcely knew what he was doing or saying,
selected one of the most outrageous performances of his repertoire, fired
off a tipsy howl by way of overture, and away he went. At the end of the
second verse the Colonel started up, clapping on his hat, seizing his
stick, and looking as ferocious as though he had been going to do battle
with a Pindaree.

"Silence!" he roared out.

"Hear, hear!" cried certain wags at a farther table. "Go on, Costigan!"
said others.

"Go on!" cries the Colonel, in his high voice trembling with anger. "Does
any gentleman say 'Go On?' Does any man who has a wife and sisters, or
children at home, say 'Go on' to such disgusting ribaldry as this? Do you
dare, sir, to call yourself a gentleman, and to say that you hold the
King's commission, and to sit down amongst Christians and men of honour,
and defile the ears of young boys with this wicked balderdash?"

"Why do you bring young boys here, old boy?" cries a voice of the
malcontents.

"Why? Because I thought I was coming to a society of gentlemen," cried