"Corporal of the guard," shouted the sentry, and that functionary
instantly appeared. "This _young fellow_ wants for to join the
reg'ment."
"This way, my lad," said the corporal; and forthwith he entered the
guard-room.
Presently he came out, and I never saw him again. I learned, however,
that the next day an old limb of the law hunted him up, and induced him
to give up his intention of enlisting, and made all things pleasant with
the Queen's Bays by leaving them a golden medal of their mistress.
It was my turn now. I walked in.
"Well, my hearty," said one of the soldiers, "come up to the roast," as
he made way for me to be seated near him. The corporal cast his eye
from my head to my feet as I neared the light.
"Not big enough, nor never will be," he said, folding his arms.
The standard of dragoon guards at that period (more than twenty years
ago) was not less than six feet for full grown, or five feet ten inches
for growing lads whose appearance indicated that they would attain the
desired height ere they had left off growing. I was under five feet
seven, and was at once pronounced as "never likely to be a six-foot
man," and therefore not eligible for _their_ regiment; however, the
corporal said I could sleep in barracks that night, if I thought proper,
and he would introduce me to the recruiting sergeant of another
regiment--then in the town--on the following day. To this I consented;
and the guard orderly escorted me to one of the barrack-rooms, in which
there were eight beds ranged side by side.
The bedsteads were of iron, and the beds stuffed with straw. To one of
these I was shown as belonging to one of the men on guard and therefore
vacant. There was an air of snug comfort in the room that contrasted
favourably with the cold blustering wind outside. A good fire was
burning in a large grate, the white belts, black sabretaches, and
burnished scabbards hung around the room and glittered in the fire
light. The carbines were neatly arranged in the "rack" with a bone
"snapper" in each hammer--placed there in lieu of the flint--for the new
percussion-caps were not in use at that period. The uniforms--scarlet
coats with swallow-tails, and brass shoulder-scales--were neatly wrapped
up and piled with the kit and spare clothing upon a shelf over each
man's bed. The men were apparently as happy as a family--some were
smoking and chatting, one was reading a newspaper, another writing a
letter, and one, a "mounted orderly" just come in from a long ride, was
busy cooking two herrings for his supper.
"Come to the fire," said one of the men.