Nafferton was very sympathetic.
"I'm afraid I've given you a good deal of trouble, haven't I?" said he.
"Trouble!" whimpered Pinecoffin; "I don't mind the trouble so much, though that
was bad enough; but what I resent is this showing up in print. It will stick to
me like a burr all through my service. And I DID do my best for your
interminable swine. It's too bad of you, on my soul it is!"
"I don't know," said Nafferton; "have you ever been stuck with a horse? It
isn't the money I mind, though that is bad enough; but what I resent is the
chaff that follows, especially from the boy who stuck me. But I think we'll cry
quite now."
Pinecoffin found nothing to say save bad words; and Nafferton smiled ever so
sweetly, and asked him to dinner.
THE ROUT OF THE WHITE HUSSARS.
It was not in the open fight
We threw away the sword,
But in the lonely watching
In the darkness by the ford.
The waters lapped, the night-wind blew,
Full-armed the Fear was born and grew,
And we were flying ere we knew
From panic in the night.
--Beoni Bar.
Some people hold that an English Cavalry regiment cannot run. This is a
mistake. I have seen four hundred and thirty-seven sabres flying over the face
of the country in abject terror--have seen the best Regiment that ever drew
bridle, wiped off the Army List for the space of two hours.
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