Snooker’s Friend

Belford’s Monthly Magazine. A magazine of Literature and Art. Volume I. 1877. P. 6

Mr. Whymper was to the last degree disconcerted. The chances were exactly even that he should get himself into a hole by picking out the wrong lieutenant. But fortunately for him, Darall was a good—natured fellow, slow to anger, and with a touch of humour which—except in the case of great villains, when it takes a grim and cruel form—has always a softening influence upon character. He was called by the younger cadets, or “snookers“—the poor creatures had many a derogatory alias— “Gentleman Darall,” and by his contemporaries, we are afraid somewhat in derision, “the Snooker’s Friend.” It was not, however, his friendliness that protected Mr. Whymper on this occasion so much as his indifference. He seemed to have forgotten that he had put that crucial question about his first cousin at all, and was gazing earnestly out of the window, through which came the abrupt sounds of command from the drill ground, as though the familiar words had some new interest for him.