"Here's to it! Full glasses! "Speech! Speech--you nimble-witted, limber-legged prophet!" roared John Casson, throwing a pack of cards at Berkley.

"Read the cards for us!" Berkley very gracefully caught a handful, and sorting them, began impromptu: "Diamonds for _you_, Little Miss Carew, Strung in a row, Tied in a bow-- What would you do If they came true?
"What can it be?
_Hearts_! for Miss Letty-- Sweethearts and beaux, Monarchs in rows, Knaves on their knees-- Choose among these! "Clubs now, I see! _Ace_! for Miss Betty-- Clubman and swell, Soldier as well.
Yes, he's all three; Who can he be?
"Ione, be kind To monarch and knave, But make up your mind To make 'em behave.
And when a man finds _you_ The nicest he's met, he Is likely to marry you, Letty and Betty!" Tremendous cheering greeted these sentiments; three more cheers were proposed and given for the Canterbury.
"Home of the 'ster arts, m-music an' 'r' drama-r-r--" observed Casson hazily--"I'm going home." Nobody seemed to hear him.
"Home--ser-weet home," he repeated sentimentally--"home among the horses--where some Roman-nosed, camel-backed, slant-eared nag is probably waitin' to kick daylight out'r me! Ladies, farewell!" he added, tripping up on his spurs and waving his hand vaguely.
"Cav'lry's eyes 'n' ears 'f army! 'Tain't the hind legs' No--_no_! _I'm_ head 'n' ears--army! 'n' I wan' t' go home." For a while he remained slanting against the piano, thoughtfully attempting to pry out the strings; then Wye returned from putting Miss Carew and Miss Trent into a carriage.
"You come to the fort with me," he said.

"That'll sober you.

I sleep near the magazine." Berkley's face looked dreadfully battered and white, but he was master of himself, careful of his equilibrium, and very polite to everybody.
"You're--hic!--killin' yourself," said Cortlandt, balancing himself carefully in the doorway.
"Don't put it that way," protested Berkley.

"I'm trying to make fast time, that's all.