The fat college porter, that I used to mistake in my school-boy days for the Provost, God forgive me! was there as fat and as ruddy as heretofore, and wore his Roman costume of helmet and plush breeches, with an air as classic.

The old state trumpeter at the castle, another object of my youthful veneration, poor "old God save the King" as we used to call him, walked the streets as of old; his cheeks indeed, a little more lanky and tendinous; but then there had been many viceregal changes, and the "one sole melody his heart delighted in," had been more frequently called in requisition, as he marched in solemn state with the other antique gentlemen in tabards.

As I walked along, each moment some old and early association being suggested by the objects around, I felt my arm suddenly seized.

I turned hastily round, and beheld a very old companion in many a hard-fought field and merry bivouack.

Tom O'Flaherty of the 8th.