ments of that hostelry, nor indeed of any other in that part of
the United Kingdom called Ireland: I have suffered too much in them.
Still, I will say that the Hibernian is to be praised for a really
comfortable and handsome smoking-room, containing easy-chairs deservedly
so called, and a capital collection of standard novels. One raw
evening in the spring of 1871 I sauntered in, and found some
gentlemanlike-looking fellows there, who proved pleasant company, and
presently a remarkably _distingue_-looking young man, with an
unmistakably military cut, came in and sat down near me. We fell to
talking. He was quartered at the Curragh, and was up in Dublin _en
route_ for the Newmarket spring meeting. He told me that he made some
L700 a year by the turf. "I've a cousin, you see, who is a great
sporting man, and thus I'm 'in with a stable,' and get put up to tips,"
he said. "But for this the turf would be a very poor thing to dabble
in." And this led to a talk about officers' lives and their
money-affairs. "Oh," he said, "you've no notion of the number who go to
utter grief. Why now, I'll tell you what happened to me last season in
London. I was asked to go down and dine with some fellows at Richmond;
and being awfully late, I rushed out of the club and hailed the first
hansom I could see with a likely horse in Pall Mall. I scarcely looked
at the man, but said, 'Now I want to get down to the Star and Garter by
eight: go a good pace and I'll pay you for it.' Well, he had a stunning
good horse, and we rattled away at a fine rate; and when I got out I was
putting the money into his hand, when he said, 'Don't you know me,
B----?' I looked up in amazement, and in another moment recognized a man
whom I had known in India as the greatest swell in the ---- Hussars, the
smartest cavalry corps in the service, and who, on account of his
splendid face and figure, went by the sobriquet of 'the Angel Hussar.'

"Well, it gave me quite a shock. 'Good Heavens, H----!' I said, 'what in
the world does this mean?' 'Mean, old fellow? It means that I'd not a
farthing in the world, and didn't want to starve. It's all my own cursed
folly. I've made my bed, and must lie on it.' I pressed a couple of
sovereigns into his hand, and made him promise to call on me next day.
He came and gave me the details of his descent, the old story of
course--wine and its alliterative concomitant, conjoined with utter
recklessness." "Well, and could you help him?" "I'm