“I believe my captain had managed to borrow considerable sums of the Jews on what are called past-a-bits, but the Squire soon let them know that the estate wasn’t entailed, and that was up too, and the Jews were as keen after him as so many hounds after a hare. As to borrowing of any of the brother officers, they were all pretty much of a muchness, that is, they were all very able to borrow, but not to lend. There was only one of them that was able to lend, and that was the Major, and he had the unfortunate name of Need.”—Much laughter, and loud cachination, or what Betty Trapps called crowing, from Thorsby.—“Major Need was always in need. You might as well have asked fire of a fish as money of the Major. He always pleaded poverty, and said the mess was really so extravagant, he should get all the leave of absence that he could. And you may believe me, he did spend the greater part of his time at home. And what was he doing? Why, he was just as busy as a bee in planting a vast lot of poor, sandy land that he had with larch trees. There he was, while my captain and the rest of the officers were sowing their wild oats, always busy in sowing larch seed, and having a lot of men at work planting the young trees out as they grew. There you might see this poor man, who never had a penny to lend to a brother officer in distress, riding away to his beggarly land not worth a rent of a shilling an acre, mounted on a sturdy pony, bearing a sort of bag slung on his back, with his dinner in it, and a big pruning-knife and a little saw in it besides—going, he was, to prune his larches as they wanted it, and keep a sharp eye on his men at work. Well, I was that way the other day, and bless my stars! what a vast of fine woods that man has, and they tell me he is as rich as a duke, him that in our regiment’s time never had a penny to lend or spend. “Well, it came to a sharp pass at last with my captain. The lady asked if I had been in any battles. Ay, troth, I was at that time in battles enow, with those unreasonablest of varmint, called duns. My captain would have been awlis in prison if mother nature had not blest me with a good share of contrivance, and a skull that could stand sharp acquaintance with constables’ staffs. Oh! if I do miss heaven at last, it will be for all the lies I told them, for my captain. How often I have sworn that he was gone down to see his honoured father, who was on his death-bed, when all the while he was trembling in every limb behind the door that I held in their faces.