This was a
bore, I acknowledge, but life can not be all flowers. It was soon over,
however--I galloped gallantly back--dined with all the courses at my
hotel, and then lit my cigar and strolled up Franklin. I wore my
uniform and spurs on these promenades--wild horses tearing me would not
have induced me to doff the spurs! They were so martial! They jingled
so! They gave a military and ferocious set-off to my whole appearance,
and were immensely admired by the fair sex! Regularly on coming back
from my arduous and dangerous duties at camp, I brushed my uniform, put
on my red sash, and with one hand resting with dignity on my new sword
belt, advanced to engage the enemy--on Franklin street."
Tom Herbert's laugh was contagious; his whole bearing so sunny and
_riante_ that he was charming.
"Well, how did you awake from your _dolce far niente?_" I said.
"By an effort of the will, old fellow--for I really could not stand
that. It was glorious, delightful--that war-making in town; but there
was a thorn in it. I was ashamed of myself. 'Tom Herbert you are not a
soldier, you are an impostor,' I said; 'you are young, healthy, as good
food for powder as anybody else, and yet here you are, safely laid away
in a bomb-proof, while your friends are fighting. Wake, rouse yourself,
my friend! The only way to regain the path of rectitude is to go back
to the army!"
"I said that, Surry," Tom continued, "and as I could not go back into
the infantry on account of my leg, I applied for an assignment to duty
in the cavalry.
Pages:
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82