“Sacre bleu!” exclaimed he, in a burst of laughter, “what have we here? Why, this is a portrait of old General Morieier, and, although a caricature, a perfect likeness. And here comes a plan for ‘manoeuvring a squadron by threes from the left.’ This is better—it is a receipt for an ‘Omelette à la Hussard;’ and here we have a love-song, and a mustache-paste, with some hints about devotion, and diseased frog in horses. Most versatile genius, certainly!” And so he went on, occasionally laughing at my rude sketches, and ruder remarks, till he came to a page headed “Equitation, as practiced by Officers of the Staff,” and followed by a series of caricatures of bad riding, in all its moods and tenses. The flush of anger which instantly colored his face, soon attracted the notice of those about him, and one of the bystanders quickly snatched the book from his fingers, and, in the midst of a group all convulsed with laughter, proceeded to expatiate upon my illustrations. To be sure, they were absurd enough. Some were represented sketching on horseback, under shelter of an umbrella; others were “taking the depth of a stream” by a “header” from their own saddles; some, again, were “exploring ground for an attack in line,” by a measurement of the rider’s own length over the head of his horse. Then there were ridiculous situations, such as “sitting down before a fortress,” “taking an angle of incidence,” and so on. Sorry jests, all of them, but sufficient to amuse those with whose daily associations they chimed in, and to whom certain traits of portraiture gave all the zest of a personality. My shame at the exposure, and my terror for its consequences, gradually yielded to a feeling of flattered vanity at the success of my lucubrations; and I never remarked that the staff-officer had ridden away from the group, till I saw him galloping back at the top of his speed. “Is your name Tiernay, my good fellow?” cried he, riding close up to my side, and with an expression on his features I did not half like. “Yes, sir,” replied I. “Hussar of the Ninth, I believe?” repeated he, reading from a paper in his hand. “The same, sir.” “Well, your talents as a draughtsman have procured you promotion, my friend; I have obtained your discharge from your regiment, and you are now my orderly—orderly on the staff, do you mind? so mount, sir, and follow me.”