Oh, papa,
what are they? Sa--ay, would you gentlemen kindly tell us poor old
sodgers what kind ov a hell ov a, dressmaker cut out them
pantalettes? I wish I could go out to play with these nice,
perlite little boys? Oh, children! why _didn't_ you bring your
nursemaids with you?"
The 3rd Zouaves marched past the jeering veterans, grinding their
teeth, but making no effort at retort. They knew well enough by
this time that any attempt to retort would be worse than useless.
As the head of the column of the 8th Lancers appeared from the West
at the forks of the other road, the dingy veterans fairly danced in
malicious delight:
"Excuse us," they simpered, kissing their dirty finger-tips to the
horsemen, "_ex_-cuse us, please, but do tell us how you left dear
old Fift' Avenoo. Them rocking hosses need a leetle new paint
where they sit down, me lords. Hey, you ain't got any old red silk
stockings we can use for guidons, have you? Oh, Alonzo darling!
curl my hair an' wet me with expensive cologne!"
Colonel Egerton's 20th Dragoons, being in blue and orange, got off
easier, though the freshness of their uniforms was tremendously
resented; but McDunn's 10th Flying Battery, in brand new uniforms,
ran the full fierce fire of chaff; the indignant cannoneers were
begged to disclose the name of the stage line which had supplied
their battery horses; and Arthur Wye, driving the showy swing team
of No.
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