We all know the stately pile in Holborn, once Meekings’, now Wallis’s, where all the world and his wife go to buy. Mr. Wallis hails from Stowmarket, and the man who fits up London shops in the most tasty style, Mr.
Sergeant Meekings, if the order comes to charge before I return, tell off a trooper to take up each man too badly wounded to ride, and let them carry them straight across to the infantry." After giving this order he rode rapidly away, but returned in two or three minutes. "We are not going to charge again, doctor," he said; "they are mustering too strongly for us to attempt it.