military character with the tags, or the inn-servants
at their supper in the courtyard, or townspeople a
chatting on a bench, or country people a starting
home after market,—down rushes the Major
to clink his glass against their glasses and cry,—Hola!
Vive Somebody! or Vive Something! as if he was beside
himself. And though I could not quite approve
of the Major’s doing it, still the ways of the
world are the ways of the world varying according
to the different parts of it, and dancing at all in
the open Square with a lady that kept a barber’s
shop my opinion is that the Major was right to dance
his best and to lead off with a power that I did not
think was in him, though I was a little uneasy at
the Barricading sound of the cries that were set up
by the other dancers and the rest of the company,
until when I says “What are they ever calling
out Jemmy?” Jemmy says, “They’re
calling out Gran, Bravo the Military English!
Bravo the Military English!” which was very
gratifying to my feelings as a Briton and became the
name the Major was known by.
But every evening at a regular time we all three sat
out in the balcony of the hotel at the end of the
courtyard, looking up at the golden and rosy light
as it changed on the great towers, and looking at the
shadows of the towers as they changed on all about
us ourselves included, and what do you think we did
there? My dear, if Jemmy hadn’t brought
some other of those stories of the Major’s taking
down from the telling of former lodgers at Eighty-one
Norfolk Street, and if he didn’t bring ’em
out with this speech:
“Here you are Gran! Here you are godfather!
More of ’em! I’ll read. And
though you wrote ’em for me, godfather, I know
you won’t disapprove of my making ’em
over to Gran; will you?”
“No, my dear boy,” says the Major.
“Everything we have is hers, and we are hers.”
“Hers ever affectionately and devotedly J. Jackman,
and J. Jackman Lirriper,” cries the Young Rogue
giving me a close hug. “Very well then
godfather. Look here. As Gran is in the
Legacy way just now, I shall make these stories a
part of Gran’s Legacy. I’ll leave
’em to her. What do you say godfather?”
“Hip hip Hurrah!” says the Major.
“Very well then,” cries Jemmy all in a
bustle. “Vive the Military English!
Vive the Lady Lirriper! Vive the Jemmy Jackman
Ditto! Vive the Legacy! Now, you look
out, Gran. And you look out, godfather. I’ll
read! And I’ll tell you what I’ll
do besides. On the last night of our holiday
here when we are all packed and going away, I’ll
top up with something of my own.”
“Mind you do sir” says I.
