he exultingly drew forth his military coat and three cornered hat.  The former was indeed an ancient fabric, with which divers and sundry moths had made sad havoc, though he held it before the light and swore, by not less than three saints, the holes were all made by bullets.  If either had doubted this evidence of his valor, he was ready to strip to the buff, and satisfy their eyes with the veritable scars.  But they all declared themselves satisfied that he had given sufficient proof of his valor.  Indeed, the odor that began to escape as he doffed his coat, in earnest of his sincerity, was by no means pleasant, and consequently hastened a favorable decision.

The major was more than ever elated that the affair should have taken such a pleasant turn, and bid them fill their glasses, which they were glad enough to do, with renewals at such short intervals that the major, who was not to be outdone in number of glasses, providing his patriotism was pledged in them, found himself in a state of mental configuration, for he saw ghosts and dead warriors by the dozen, all of which he would have sworn, in a court of law, were real flesh and blood.  In fine, he capered about the room like a madman, feeling at his side for his sword, and swearing, by his military reputation, that he would think no more of killing them than he would so many Washington lobby agents.

Among these generals, there was a short, fat man, of the name of Benthornham, who, with the exception that he was less pumpkin bellied than the major, one might have supposed cast in the same mould, for he was squint eyed, and had a red nose, in size and shape very like a birch tree knot.  Nor was he a whit behind the major in tipping his glass; and though there was a review on the following day, to which they had invited the major, out of sheer respect to his fame, there was sufficient cause to apprehend that this General Benthornham, (officer of the day though he was,) would not be sober enough to appear.  However, as they all boarded at the St. Nicholas, one of the party suggested, that in order to pay becoming honor to so distinguished a major, they invite him to General Benthornham’s room.  And as the major never refused an invitation, especially when it came from persons distinguished in the profession in which he claimed to have won no small honors, he at once joined them, and proceeded to the room aforesaid, where brandy and champagne, in great abundance, were provided, and to which the major took with such renewed avidity, that they began to think his bowels vulcanized.

After they had plied him sufficiently with liquor, they insisted that he relate some of the wonderful exploits he had performed in war and politics, which he did, and with such an appearance of truth, that the two who had not so far drenched their senses with liquor as to be incapable of judging, whispered to themselves that he was not so much of a fool after all; in fact, that there was so much truth in what