It was not unusual, on the route, to hear some wearied officer exclaim, "If I only had a pull at old Twing's pewter!" and "equal to Twing's flask" was an expression which stamped the quality of any liquor as superfine.

Such was one of the major's peculiarities, though by no means the only one.
As my friend and I made our appearance under the fly, the company was in high glee, everyone enjoying himself with that freedom from restraint of rank peculiar to the American army-service.

Clayley was a great favourite with the major, and at once caught his eye.
"Ha, Clayley! that you?
Walk in with your friend.

Find seats there, gentlemen." "Captain Haller--Major Twing," said Clayley, introducing me.
"Happy to know you, Captain.

Can you find seats there?
No.