Smoking was strictly forbidden in the hall of the
Carlton at that time. I was standing in the hall one night when
Lord Charles came out of the writing-room, a big bundle of newly
written letters in his hand, and a large cigar in his mouth. He
had just received a shilling's-worth of stamps from the waiter,
when old Mr. Bankes-Stanhope, who habitually puffed and blew like
Mr. Jogglebury-Crowdey of "Sponge's Sporting Tour," noticed the
forbidden cigar through a glass door, and came puffing and blowing
into the hall in hot indignation. He reproved Lord Charles
Beresford for his breach of the club rules in, as I thought, quite
unnecessarily severe tones. The genial Admiral kept his temper,
but detached one penny stamp from his roll, licked it, and placed
it on his forefinger. "My dear Mr. Stanhope," he began, "it was a
little oversight of mine. I was writing in there, do you see?" (a
friendly little tap on Mr. Bankes-Stanhope's shirt-front, and on
went a penny stamp), "and I moved in here, you see" (another
friendly tap, and on went a second stamp), "and forgot about my
cigar, you see" (a third tap, and a third stamp left adhering).
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