ONE YEAR AGO.
One year ago we sat where tall trees
made
Above our heads a sympathetic shade;
The world was all in bloom; the very air
Pulsed with the eunimer, round us every
where.
We saw the blue sky through the green
arcade:
The birds and breezes sung our serenade;
That happy day, the day beyond com-
pare,
One year
right hand, which held the stock of to?
whip. Hu was as cool as ice, too, and sur
vey« 1 the writhing, spluttering bully on the
ground with infinite amusement in his steady
blue eyes, as blue as those of the astonished
little acrobat besile the ladder, who kept
dashing his tears away and caught his still
sobbing breath as he gazed with awe and
reverence on “the swell wot bad wollopad
Mr. Frisco”—the great and mighty Mr.
Fr.sco, who, to his poor, benighted little
mind was the very embodiment cf strength
and power.
We saw each other’s souls; with joy
afraid,
We turned away to do as duty hade;
O love! the sweet, sad knowledge that we
share
Has made all days since then more dear
and fair,
Tnough silence on our lips her finger laid,
One year ago.
—Carlotta Perry in Brooklyn Maga
zine.
CHAPTER I.
“Now come, young shaver, look alive! At
ft again? Come, be quick, don’t wa to my
time like this, or,” with a threatening and
significant quiver an l crack of a long white
whi<, “it’ll be m o es? for you. D’ye hear?”
“Yes, yes, Mr. Frisco,” he replie 1, in a
■baking voice, an 1 he braced himself up for
another effort. He then add'd in lower
tones of utter desperation, I know 1’11 never
be able to do it.”
“Be quick al out it, then,” the man called
Frisco growled in brutal savagenes?. “I've
■pent more time over teaching you this, you
young limb of evil, than all your cursed
little body is worth. I believe j ou do it on
purpose.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t, Mr. Frisco,” in an
agony of appeal, and with a glance of terror
at the white thong in the ringmaster’s strong
and merciless hand.
“Ab, well, you’d better do it this time,”
was t he reply.
There was a moment of intense silence in
the deserted circus ring, lighted only by one
flaring gas jet and such daylight as could
flicker feebly through the ventilation aper
tures at the top of the tent.
The boy, an ill-fed, meager-faced, un
der-sized lad of 12 years old or so, with
thin trembling lips, tightened by a life
of misery and fear, and with big, bright,
blue eye?, unnaturally keen anl quick,
stood ready to mount the ladder leaf
ing to the several trapeze swin js high
above their heads. Po r little chap, poor
waif and stray, bound body and soul to the
owners of a traveling circus! He had now
been many days trying hard to achieve a
difficult ami dangerous trapeze leap, which
was, in fact, utterly beyond the strength of
his poor half-starved little body to perform.
He k iew he should never do it, he hal tried
hard, nay, his very best. That leap was
never absent from his thoughts for a single
instant during his waking hours, very sel
dom from his dreams! Night after n’ght he
dreamt with horror of bis morning’s rush
through the air, and of the failure of his
little nervous fingers to catch the bar of the
opposite swing, and many a time he sat up
on his poor hard bed and hugged himself to
make quite sure his body was still whole
and his bones unbroken.
“Como, up you go! How much more of
my time are you going to waste?” shouted
the ringmaster, savagely.
So up ho went, stood for a moment on the
tiny platform high up aloft, a quivering,
shuddering figure in a set of worn and
ragged tights, looked desperately round, as
if appealing for help to the rows and rows of
empty ghost-like benches, clenched his hands
hard for a moment, the nervous hands
whose palms wore hot and wet with the
sweat of fear, wipol them hastily ou bis
tight-clad thighs, took the leap, and, mi sing
the bar, fell !
A fierce oath burst from the ringmas
ter’s lips as the lad fell with a dull thud
into the net below. There was a quiver
and a crack of tho long white whip, fol
lowed by a piercing shriek as the boy
rolled out of the ne ting on to the ground
and rush'd for protection to the hate 1 lad
der, which was no protection at all from the
cruel lash wielded by Frisco’s strong and
merciless arm.
“Up you go, no n<>naente,” be shouted.
“Fall this time, curse you, and you shall do
the trick without tho netting.”
“I’ll be killed,” sobbed the boy.
“It’s all you’re worth! Up you go, I say,
and be quick about it,” and a crack of the
whip gave point an l accent to the words,
onlv too well understood by bis wretched
little vict
So up he tolled once more, dashing the
tears from his eyes as ho climbed the crual,
and to him now, dizzy height, then bo
reache I tho platform again, an I looke I his
fate hard in tho face, a« hard as the blinding
tear , which came thick and fast over the
big blue eyes, would let him.
If ho failed this tiiu», ob, what, could save
him then? Ho know that tho absence of the
netting below would take all his nerve
away, and that the leap to follow would bo
his last. It only he could manage to clutch
that 1 ar this time! If only hi legs would
not shake under him, and his hands tremble
so! If only tho tears which filled his
eyes----
“B j quickr shouted the hoarse voice
below him. and so, in haste, he took the
lean, and fell again!
The white thong fl «w out again with a
hiss, and cm lei once more round the tor
tured and quivering little b wly. Again tho
boy’s piercing shrieks echoed through the
gloomy circus tent.
“You shall do it without the net,'* the ring
master shouted, flinging down his whip and
flying to unfasten the cords which bold it in
place.
As the boy rolled down at his feet he
kicked him aside, but the next instant he had
measu ed hi* length upon the gro.ind, an l
lay biting tin) filthy and trampled sawdust
of the ring.
"No, by Jove, that he do»s not, you infer
nal coward,” shout d a voice in his cars.
“A? I live, you shall have a taste of your
own treatment, (let up!”
As tho bully regained his feet tho thong of
hh own whip whizzel through the air and
caught him neatly in a double circle round
the leg*. Ay, not'only round the leg*, but
fel again and again, in sharp cutting strokes,
picking out deftly here and there every soft
point of him, untd pretty nearly every inch
of his brawny body had paid the dearest
penalty of bis co ward ¡co.
At last he full writhing to the ground
again, shrieking, groaning, swearing, curs
ing and vowing vengeance on the wretched
little acrid wit’s avenger.
I he newcomer stayed his arm and drew
the long white thong through his glove I
left hand, as if it ha 1 done good service and
he w as grateful to it.
A long, lithe, handsome fellow he wa*
soldier all over him, well set up and smart,
neaiiy and plainly dtertsed, with no sign o.
ornament about him but a little pin of lai>o
lazuli in his white cotton cravat and r
oouple of diamond rings on tha strung, bar ■
“As I live, you shall have a taste of your
own treatment.*
He know that “the swell” in question wai
Cant. Ferrers, of the Scarlet Lancers, then
lying in Idleminster barracks. Ho know
him quite well, for the officers bad often
patronize I the circus during the few weaks
the tent had been pitched in the city, and
once Capt. Furrers had tipped him half a
crown for an especially difficult feat he had
performed on a bespeak night for the oifi-
cors of the regiment.
It was true that Mr. Frisco had promptly
taken the half Town from him, but, all the
same, that fact notwithstanding, tho mem
ory of the giver had dwelt lovingly ever
since in his heart.
And behold! There was his ben ‘factor
quietly an! caressingly drawing Mr. Friso’s
white thong through his fingers a id smiling
down upon that gentleman’s writhing
and quivering form in a way which v.ould
have made the lad laugh out loud if he had
d are J to do it.
He wondered what “the swell from the
barracks” would do next. And presently he
saw and heard.
“Here, stop that row,” he said, authorita
tively.
The lad rubbe.l his bruises and fairly
chuckled; the ringmaster continued his
writhing and groaning, throwing in an oath
here and there by way of a little variation.
“Do you bear?” said Ferrers, raising his
voice, “or do you want another taste of this?
Get up!”
Very slowly and unwillingly the ringmas
ter rose from the sawdust-laid grounl,
driven to it by the significant spread of the
soldier’s strong right arm.
“Are you this boy’s father?” Ferrers de
manded, curtly.
“No.”
“Where is his fatherF
“He’s dead.”
“And his mother?”
“She’s dead too?”
“Ah’—and who looks after him?”
“I do” (very unwillingly).
“Oh! you do? Ah! Nice way you’ve got
of doing it! Well, if you want him back
agryn you can apply to the magistrates, and,
meantime, I shall give the police orders to
look after you at once. Come along, my
lad.”
“He’s my apprentice—he’s bound to me,”
I he ringmaster put in sullenly, as the I oy
cropt round to his new friend and projec
tor’s side. At the same time ho edged away
from th 3 reach of Ferrers’ arm. “He has
cost me pounds and pounds, and-----”
“Yes. You can tell all that to tho magis
trates, you know,” said the soldier, blan lly
“By the way, have you any papers to show?
Becaus?, if you have, the magistrates will
be glad to see them also. However, here is
my card—though you know me well enough
without it.”
lie made a gesture to tho boy to go before
him, and went out of the tent, still carrying
the whip in his hand. Frisco shook his fist
at his retreating figure, and growled ouc an
oath or two. not loud—ho was too fearful of
roudng tho lion again for that—but very
deep.
There wore generally a few loungers and
ne’er-do- weels banging about the circus tont,
but uot ono of them had thought of going
within to inquire into the cause of thi
shrieks and screams which all of thorn hal
hoard quite as plainly as Capt. Ferrers had
done. Thoy wore accustomed to them—at
least, such as belonged to the company were;
it was onlv one of tho youngsters gutting an
extra licking, and if Frisco was a bit hard
on them, why, doubtless, Frisco had plenty
of provocation. Any wav, it was no business
of any one elso’s, and Frisco was a danger
ous customer to interfere with.
Now, when the lad, followed by Ferrers,
emerged from tho tent, there were a d zun
or so of them lounging against the railing,
which served for entrance and advertise
ment boards alike. They saw that the lad
had been in for it again—he always did
seem to be in for it, poor little toad—thoy
fam led it must be, half of it, through sh »e •
obstinacy, for be was an uncommo fly
clever lad at certain things, of which the
snake performance was ono.
One or two of the circus troupe look *d up
in rough pity, which was, however, quickly
che» ked by tho sight of the big soldier—well
known to all of them—who cam) jus be
hind him, carrying Frisco’s butter knowu
whip in his hand. Hollo! they wondered
wl at was up now, an l thoir wonder was cer
tainly not decreased when Capt. Ferrers
hailtnl a passing cab, bode th» boy get iu,
entered it himself, and was driven away iu
the direction of the barracks.
“That was Capting Ferrers,” said one,
“ami he had Frisco’s whip in his ’an 1.”
“Been a-leathering o’ Frisco, I should
think,” suggestei another, but without th**
wildes idea that his words, uttero I in j wt,
were as goapsi truth.
“’Ere he is to speak for ’isself. Til ask
*im,” laughed a third, who < banco I to b» too
big to st ami in any awe of the ringmaster.
“’Edo, Frisco,” he remarked lightly, “*as
the »well from ttk> barracks been a-leatbering
of yer?”
Frisco mutterel something quite unintel
ligible, anl passed on, leaving the little
group staring after him in profoun lest sur
pr.se.
“You've ’it the right nail on the ’ead this
time, old boy.” exclained one at la t, ad
dressing the big young man who wa* not
afraid of Frisca
“Well, I'm bio wed,” said the big young
man, blankly. ____
CHAPTER II.
Tho little acrobat, in his worn and shabby
tights, when Capt. Ferrera tol I bun to
get into the cab, s?at«»d himself meekly and
with fear and trembling, though with now
and then a glance of passionate admirntiou
and reverence at h s deliverer on th»* oppo
site seat to him. He hardly knew wluit t »
think of him—certainly assom th ng scarce
.y human, for humanity of F rrers’ typs
had never before dawned upuu ibe, udl
now, changeless horizon of his sad life. He
had never hoard of God or of heaven, ex
cept in such ways a? did not givo him any
idea of their bless d goodness and p<ace; he
ha l never heard of the angels at all, or per
haps he might have likened Ferrera to one
of them; but as it was, he simply, in his un
formed and ignorant mind, thought of how
he should like to bo in a circus of which
“the swell was b<ws.”
The soldier guessed something of what was
passing through his mind.
“A: j you cold?” he askel in his kindly
voice, the voice which had brought comfort
to many and many an aching and weary
heart.
Tho boy nodded. “Aye, sir,” and shiv
ered.
“Well, nover mind, my lad, you shall be
warm by and by. Ob, what’s your name?”
“They call me Houp-La,” tho boy ro-
plied.
“Houp-La, ah! A very likely name for
you. But what is your real name?”
“Tom Snow,” hesitatingly. “Leastways,
tha was wot old Mrs. Wilson used to tell
me my name wos.”
“And who is Mrs. Wilson?”
“She’s dead. She wos the lady wot kept
the wardrobes.”
Involuntarily the soldier’s lips relaxed
into a smile, and the boy struck in eagerly:
“She wo? werry good to me, wos old Mr?.
Wilson. She wos a werry kind lady. Some
times she used to give me my tea ”
“And how long has she been dead?”
“Oli, a long time. 1 wes a little chap
then.”
Ferrers smiled again. “You’re not a very
big one now, my boy. How old are you!”
‘‘Twe’ve. Going on thirteen, sir.”
‘•Ah!’’ Then, after a pause, “Can you
read?”
The brown head was vigorously shaken,
and the blue eyes stared widely at the ques
tion.
“Or write?”
The head was shaken again. “No; but I
can do the snake trick and the wriggling
dodge—t’ w’re both werry difficult,”
eagerly.
Ferrers laughed. “Yes, I know. I’ve
seen you do them both. Now here we are,”
as the c b stopped at the door of the officeis’
quarters. “Come with me.”
There were several officers, some in uni
form and some in plain clothes, standing
about tho doorway, who stared in surprise
as FeiTere followed by the little acrobat,
alighted from the cab.
“Why, Booties,” cried one of them, “what
are you up to now?”
“At it again?” aske 1 another.
“Yes, at it again. I’ll tell you all about it
by and by,” said Booties, good-naturedly,
and disappeared with his strange com-
pan’on.
“Why, it is young Houp-La from the
circus,” exclaimed Lacy. “I’m going after
him—er—to see what it means.”
He fou id the favorite of the regiment,
which Booties was to every man, from com
manding officer down to the last-joined sub
altern and most lately -enlisted recruit, sit
tingin a big chair before the fire watching
the boy, who was crouched all of a heap on
the bearskin rug, luxuriating in the heat
and wai m light of the bright flames which
blazed half-way up the chimney.
Booties looked up. “Ah, is that you,
Lacy? Come iu.”
Lacy closel the door, and pushed the
easiest chair he could find up to the fireside.
“Bootle?,” he said solemnly, “pwray, are
you going to establish a Foundling—er—
Hospital? Be-caus?, if you are—you had—
er—better take my advice and make it?
headquarters at Furwrers Court wrather
than in Idleminster Ba wracks.”
Bodies laughed outright.
“You moan young Houp-La, there. Oh,
lie’s nil right; he’s going under Terry’s care.
Don’t trouble about him; he’ll be in no
body’s way, and Terry has been asking for
extra help ever so long.”
“Where did you pick him upF asked
Lacv.
“Down at the circus. That brute Frisco
was teaching him a new trapeze trick, with
the aid of that,” pointing to the long white
whip set up against the dressing-table;
“and I stopped him and brought young
Houp-La away. That’s all.”
“Of course,” Lacy murmured. “It goe3
without saving. And—er—how did the ele
gant M’’ Fwrisco come off?”
“H h wolloped ’im,” put in young IIoup-
La, jerking his thumb towards Booties, a
whole world of delight shining in his bright
and intelligent eyes.
“Ah! walloped him, did heF repeated
Lacy with interest; “and what did Mr.
B'wrisco sav to that?”
“’Owled,” answered the boy tersely, bold
ing both his hands to the warmth of the fire.
He had learned one lesson, this little circus
rider, and that was to make a lew words go
a very long way. Both his hearers laughed,
and then Lacy asked Booties how it was
that he had chanced to be in the circus at
that time of dav?
“Oh, I was going down to the club, an 1 I
bappmed to hear young Houp-La streaming
as I passed. That was all about it,” care
lessly. “A fter all it is a very simple matter.
He will be und^r Terry’s charge-go to
■c io< 1, a id make himself useful”
“I’m to be among the ’orses,” explained
the boy, suddenly finding his tongue, and
turning his blazing eyes upon Lacy; “and
I’m to have top boots and a tall ’at, like Mr.
Fi’isco, and go out with the kerridge. And,
my word, it were good to see hm this a’ter-
noon. ’E come in, and ’e see wot ’e were up
to, anl when ’e 'it out at me, tho capting, ’e
’its out at ’im, aud ’e sends ’im flying down
in the sawdust—and then,” excitedly, “ ’e
says, says ’e, ‘Get up!’ and ’e ’ad to get up,
aud then tho capting ’e givo him proper. 1 I
never see such a wolloping! Mr. Fri
*e
won’t do no double someraot to-night, ’e
won’t- And then,” getting on to hisfe't,
aud standing a small skinny figure, lookin '
smaller than he really was by reason of the
shabby old tights, worn and torn, with here
an I there a spangle still clinging to them;
“and then, Mr. Frisco, *e drops down at last,
and ’e lie? a-cussinganl a-s wearing like hur
roar, and the capting *e says, ‘D’ye want
some more o' this? Rtop that ’ere row,’ ’e
says. ‘D’ye 'ear?* * I never s^e nothink so
gooi afote,” fairly chuckling. “With ’is
own whip too—that was the best of it.”
“It does ent,” continued young IIoup-La,
nodding at the whits thong. “T know it
well.” Then bis poor, pinched little faca
brightenel up into positive radiance. “Bat
the opting ain’t never going to let me go
back to’im—never no more.”
“Here is Terry. Now you shall go along
with hi n and 1 ave soma dinner an l a tub
a id som» warm clothe?. An.i mind, you’re
not to go ou.side thj barrack gates. Do you
he irF
“Ye?, sir,” then nd led earnestly, and look
ing his new master straight in the face:
“Not if I wos to swing for it.”
Booties laughed, but staved the lad a mo
men!; before Terry took him away.
“Look h me, my boy. Do you know what
a lie is?'*
“Yes, sir, I da”
‘‘Weil, 1 want you to rem»mber thi*:
That whatever happens to you, whatever
trouble y*»u may get into, you must ne er
tell a lie by way of trying to save yourself
Liss always are f. un I out sooi er or later,
an l thev never do any gooi at all to any
cne—never.”
There * as a moment’* silence. Then tbs 1
1 nor. miserable little waif fell down at i
Beetles’ feet, and fl ing his arms round his
ku<»es.
“I’ll never do nothink wofll ▼« you,” he
oriel, sobbing wildly. “1 never will not
never—no, uot if 1 was to swing for it.”
< than content to do what.v.r peas, a —
«o. d and Uaadsoiua busbund beat.
g Lacy was »till iu the re?imenti in -•om-
modyot a foop now but otherw^ nn-
chuu -eL The same »oft »jx-eeb, the buuu
gentle manners, the same kind
manitxl, but waiting. M be always Mid
from the first he ahould
p".
little “Mignon.” Ter.v was »till Capt. Hr
rer»’ bead groom, and Tom Suuw hud po».-
tivelv not grown an inch.
Atul then there arose throughout the
length an i breadth of the civilize t world
ruiror» that affairs were what the young
e l
mibalt.-rns in the Sea-let
Fca-l«t lancer,
inneen cal nn'l
“unci mmonly greggv in «-I.
the »nat-
east an
very soon, from being thus lightly and mn-
lesslv terniel “very groggy, affaire in the
east began to assume a serious aspect; in
deed, so serions, in truth, that they so ■ i re-
s lvod themselves into orders lor that eg ■
ment to bold itself in readiness for a< tive
Next came the news of tha bombard ment
of Alexandria, and then the Scarlet Lan
cer-got th ir final ordors, and tho whole
regiment was in a state of exultation an
“ I'll never do nothink woVll vex you.*
"Th-re, there, there!” said Booths, pat
ting the boy’s brown bead, that be might
check this sudd n outburst of passionate
gratitude. “N<.w go along with Terry, and
mind you do w hat he bids you. There, go
along.”
It occurred to both the effleers at the same
moment that he was by no means an ill-
looking boy. True, he was undersized
and meager, and Lis face was pinched and
white, the lips very tight and drawn. But,
though his face was tear stained and the blue
eyes red with weeping, he was not dirty.
In fact, his nightly perf< rmances prevented
any possibility of that, and he bad always
been considered one of the best-1 >oking boys
in the troupe.
“Poor little chap!” said Booties, as the
door closed behind the groom and the boy.
“I’m glad I happened to be passing just
then.”
“Vewry lucky for him,” murmured Lacy.
“His fortune’s made.”
Booties laughel. “Oh, nonsense! I’ve
no doubt he will turn out a very smart
groom; and, as I said just now, Terry has
been needing help badly for a long time.”
He then told Lacy all the details of the
scene he had witnessed—how Frisco had sent
the lad up the ladder twice, when it was evi
dently impossible he could perform the feat
—how he had threatened to make him try it
without the netting spread for protection
below, and had even gone so far as to begin
to undo the ropes which held it in place.
Finally, how he had knocked him down,
and then made him get up anl take a regu
lar sound hiding, just by way of letting him
know what the cut of that particular whip
was like.
“But I let the brute off too easily,” Booties
wound up, regretfully. “I almost wish 1
had given him a little more.”
“I don’t suppose he dojp,” laughed Lacy.
rising. “Well, I must le off.”
It was surprising how soon young Houp-
La, or Tom Snow, as he soon came to be
called, settled down into his now life. He
took to it as a young duck takes to water.
Within a week he was wearing the darling
ambition of his heart—-that is, top boots and
a tall hat with a cockade—an l had achieved
as smart a salute and “yessir” as any groom
in the regiment. Booties declared ho was
the sharpest-witted boy he had over known,
at which, of course, neither Booties nor any
one else wondered when his training was
taken into consideration.
He was popular, too, with every! ody,
high and low. He worked hard at his les
sons—ho would do anything t> please Terry
—and be adored Booties. All his master’s
oelongings were sacred in his eyes, and hi»
orders once given wore as unalterable as the
laws of the Medes and Persians. In Tom’s
eyes there wa8 no officer in the regiment—
the regiment! nay, in the whole ot the ser
vice—whom he would admit to be as strong
>r as clever, as handsome or as rich, as his
master; not one who could ride, or drive, or
shoot, or do any mortal thing with t ..same
degree of excellence to wLich the cap’n at
tained. Yes, he bad very early dropped the
“capting,” and now clipped the word as
short as any soldier in the barracks. In
fact, in Tom’s eyes, Booties, like the king,
could do no wrong.
The winter months wore away, and by
and by the Scarlet Lancers were moved
from Idleminster to Aidershot, when Tom
numbered among his experiences a different
kind of march to thoso which he had share i
with the traveling wagons of the circus, for
his master chose him to accompany Terry
with his second charger, partly because be
was an unu.su lly light weight, anl partly
because he wanted to keep him under his
own eye.
By that time Tom was thoroughly au fait
ot all the ins and ou s of barrack life, hcul
learned to sp. ak very much better than
when Ferrers had rescue 1 Lim out of Fiisco’s
cruel hands; could alrea ly read a page fairly
well, if the words were not too long, and
could write his own name legibly by dint of
sprawling his left leg well out and lolling
¡■omo two inclies of his tongue out of the
meu h which was not nearly so pinched and
t.ght as it had been afcretime.
“Ah! he’s all very smart and that just
now,” said Hartog me day to Booties; “but
wait a few months until the change has had
time to work. He’ll gat fat, an 1 then where
will your nica smart lad be? Simply not
worth his sa t.”
But Toni never did get fat, not even plump.
He ate well and bear lily, but though his lips
grew less tight and his blue eyes rather le s
anxious and bright—less unnaturally bright,
I should say—he never camo to bo anything
but a skinny slip of a lad, with a pinched,
pale face and a deadly sharp tongue, and he
did not seem to grow at all. No one was
sorry for that Neither Booties nor Terry
wished him any taller or heavier. The lad
himself boasted of his sm i l size and weight.
He Lad no further ambitions—be had, in
fact, reached the summit of his hopes and
d? ires. Capt. Feners needed a light-weight
about his horses, and very often a sharp
groom al out himself. Tom supplitxl both
needs to a nicety. He had no desire to grow
into a man, because he was perfectly happy
ns Capt. Ferrers’ boy. He ha 1 known rou ;h
weather, and now that he had got into ap r:
which seemed only suited fcr small cralt ho
was not anxious to go into a three-d »cker.
Thus more than tw o years pass© I away,
and many changes came about in the Sear-
et Lancers, such chan res as do c< me about
m a regiment during so long a «pace of time.
A very grace ul poe: sinp touchingly and
tenderly upon that theme:
All are scattere I now, and fled;
Bome are married, some are dead.
It was true of the Scarlet Lancers, as of
the circle of life—and among the n amed
ones was Booties!
But the tale of Booties’ love and marring»
has lieen told already in the sto yeailei
"Booties’ Baby.” It is enough to say here
that he marnei the widow of a brother-*»fti-
ocr, a lady, w ho had one little chil i, whom,
for other reasons than for the mother's sak»,
Bootlm loved as his own flesh. But though
be marnei be did not leave the service; h)
was, in fact, too thoroughly and re lly at
heart a soldier to entertain that idea tor a
moment, and his wife, Mrs. Booties, as all
the tcariet Lancers cal.ed her, was more
It is true that down in the very lowest
depths of their hearts there lay man : an
anxbus thought and care for those who
must be loft behind; many a doubt ii t ie
glory which might conr) was worth all the
blot'dihed and iniserv which it must cost;
1 ut on the snrfac), the bearing of each and
all was fearless and gay; hope rose upper
most, and cost was set aside as a thin 4 ol
naugit.
.
Th re wa? a vast amount of chaff ove • tli<
first appearance of the new uniforms —t.ie
serge tunic*, with their heavily wa. tel
spine protectors; the rough boots, wit a
their ample log bandages, an I all th? °th ‘i
paraphernalia ingeniously contrived to vard
off the ill effects of the treacherous Egyptian
climate.
Lacy expressed himself as most highl z de
light d with his great goggle spectacle » an 1
walked about the barrack square wenrin:
them for hours after they came into his po»
session—by way, be said, of getting used tc
the feeling of them.
And th n came the last awful morning,_ a
morning dull and gray, with drizz iug mist
and rain, tha Scarlet Lancers saile l «way
to tha mockingly gay strains of “The Gin
1 Le ive Behind Me," some to win honor an 1
glory, indeed, but all to run the risk of com
ing horn • again maimed and sh tt ve I, or,
perhaps, whan tha war should be all oyer,
to lie, the very flower of a great nation,
rotting iu Egyptian soil.
CHAPTER III
There was very little of bravado pnyety
wlren the good ship Clyde slipped adown the
channel that night. Odlceri and men alike
were very quiet, and Torn Snow crept softly
in and cut of the cabin share 1 by h s master
with Lacy and Hartog, and laid out hi.
ni ss things with silent and reverent sym
pathy fur t' gravity on that master’s face,
for Bootle? had not, as yet. got over tha
age ny be felt as he encountered the yearn
ing misery in his wife’s beautiful eyes, aud
as Mignon’s parting sobs fell upon bis oars.
In truth, it was one of the three most bitter
days that ever cast their shadow over the
brightness of his pleasant and sunny life.
For himself, young Tom had no fe lings
save thoso f the wildest exultat on and de
light. Until the last moment he had never
dared to think it posable he could accom
pany liis master on the expedition. Night
after night he hal watered his pillow with
tears at the thought of being left Lehinl,
and the..— will, of course he was very sorry
for the cause, and he pulled as long a face
over the misfortune as anybody, though t'jo
young monkey’s heart was beating and
throbbing with joy at the chance it gave
hitn. This was how the chance occurred.
Tho very day before tho regiment was to
leave its quarters, Terry fell upon the stairs
leading to one of the troop rooms, and slip
ped his knee cap.
Going v a for him out of the question,
and not to be thought of; in fact, nobody
did tnink of it for a moment. An I than
Booties uad to cast about in order to tind
souieb sly suitable to fill Terry’s placu for
Terry, a.though he wos in r.ality a groom,
yet was accustomed to do much about his
master’s person.
“1’11 take young Houp-La,” he said sud
denly to Mrs. Booties, after he hal gone
over in his mind all the likely me.i he knew.
“Ho knows how to do for mu just as well as
Terry does. I’ll take him."
And so young Tom was riggxl out in
haste, anl followel his masters fortunes
into the land of th i Pharaohs.
Booties’ choice proved to bu a very wis >
selection. The voyage out was tho moe.
miserable time he bal ever passud; true, he
had at one period boon more unliairjy, bu.
never had he known before what it was to
really miss a daily presence out of his life,
not one, but two—his wife and Mignon.
In every respect young Tom suited him;
he knew just what he wanted, and just wh n
he wanted it; he was great at holding his
tongue, and nevor bothering his master wi h
questions about this or that, as a strange
servant must necessarily have done. Hu
was intensely sympathetic to the sleep! si
pain in Capt. Ferrers’eyes; and, aft rail,
w hat sympathy is thoro which is so sw ■<> as
the sympathy ot those who themselves !iav?
known the extremes of pain and misery;
Young Tom, too, was sympu’hetic in
silence.
Then, moreover, apart from his services
to his master, he jrovel quits a hod in him
self by wav of re ieving the tedlu n anl
weari less which the voyage was to the m m,
to whom eve:y hour seam d the leng.b of a
day, every mile as long as a dozen. It is
always hard to keep men amused uud con
tent on board ship, particularly on boa- I
a troop ship, where, with all rank», lire is a
continuous fight for daily bread, to say noth
ing of comfort, from port to port.
It is a tedious and irksome enough tint ■
to tiie officers, who have the bes. accommo
dation which the ship affords; but for those
wno live between deck.), v ,h but few
papers and amusements and but a limit« 1
amount ot leer and tobacco, matters are
still worse; and it is not easy to find words
to convey anything like an adequare idea of
What that life’s w earmess and ennui really is
It was here that young Tom, from being
only a sharp-tongued general favorito, sud
denly grew, like Capt. Garnet’s heal, as
Lacy remarked one night whon they were
s.earning past the African ceast. into “a
gwreat and—er—shining light." With his
master’s permission and some help from the
sailors, he got the tailor to make him up a
set ot clown's garments, and furbished up
all his old circus tricks with such ri-btg.iol
will that more than once he ha I the honor
of appearing bet. re the most distingui»h ■ 1
officers on board the Oyde. He please 1
them each and all so greatly that w hen hj
took his white hat round for contributions
to the fun 1 for the wives and children who
had leen left behind, he obtained so good a
sum that Booties, whose heart was tenicr
to every man who could in any wav ap
proach or share his feelings on that stibiee*
made it np to the even and resp-c-abre
amount of £5 out of his own pocket.
And then at last they steamed into the
harbor ot Ale van Irin, and the vovage was
over. For some of them it wa. verv near
in lee.1 to the does of thevovag. of lif>
but th’y never se mel to think of it, action
was the order of the day, and displnte In -s
an 1 down-heartedness apparent.y had flown
from their midst All
energy «-d
u tle—tall lancers clunker along th. k u
mined eastern looking str ets, tramno'
and out ot thi bazaars and cates, lau • h *“
in good-natured British contempt’at
everything they saw, grumbiad ia
Brit ah style at all d.scomforta,
roundly at the flic* anl
with sunburne 1 tars from the shifn? of w *
the harbor, and scatter-d everywhere^
energetic signs of British rule an 1 0CCu
tion.
“I sav, Bill,” said on? strar pin»
■houldered rod jacket to one of agroun f
bia comrades on« night, “wasn’t tbe(h
lain preaching about tho seven plaguJí
Egypt tho Kuu iav aforo wo left’om»?’ 1
"Ayl" responde 1 Bill, senlinj a .
cloud of smoko into the miditof adonji
fli^
“Do you rememt er what they wa?F
“Why,” answered Bill, hesitatingly,
w as frogs. fli‘s and lice—and darkn« »H
blood—that’s four. And hail, aud biains
1 suppose they’re boil*, or wuss—anj
loss of the firstborn.”
“By gum!” ejaculated the first, “butold
Pharaoh must have ’ad some grit in him t
stand all that. I wonder if they had an
baccv in the n days,” and then he, tco, w
a mighty draw at his big pipe, and kt th.
flies in his immediate n ighborhood havetb.
lull ltenefit thereof, afte- which ho sna-
contemptuously into ths midst of th'svam
by way of distinctly adding insult to injury
The files did not particularly seem to¿
precinto tho attention, and they forthwith
settled down upon Private John Wood, Na
741, as if they had a sp ciel mission froa
Arabi Pasha to determine tho ex ict value
of “grit,” as “gr.t” goe.-, in tho ranks 4
tho British army.
“Blowed if ever I knew the like d this,"
quoth Private John Woo l, No. 741. “iVh'v
old 1‘naraoh must have ’ad a hide hi»
Beezlebub.”
CHAPTER IV.
Private John Wood, No. 741, was not the
ouly man in the Scarlet Lancers vfae
“grit” th? flies took an op »ortunit,- ot
valuing. They settled down upon Lacy
if ho wero a sweet and toothsome mors 1
such as did not often come iu their wav,
which probably wa? exactly tho true state
of the case.
But Bootlo? they left strangely alon^-
perhaps he took after Pharaoh of old. Aw
way, cert, in it is that hj suffered less from
the climate an 1 its attendant plagia than
any other officer in the regiment, and it was
partly owing to this—at least L was entirely
duo to his habitu illy cool and self-pomemed
demeanor, wh ch ho could not have main,
tamed had th? flies pest?re 1 him as they did
some of tho others, Lacy, lor instance-^that
one evening, a few days after they had left
Alexandria and Rarnleh behinl them, when
he was lying half asloop ¡n his hammock, a
thump-thump sounde I upon the woodan ¿x
which stood just outride the entrance to his
tent.
“Yes—what is it?” he called out sleepily;
then, as an orderly appeared in the door
way, asked, “Well, orderly; what hit?”
“The colonel’s compliments, sir, uni he
wishe? to see you as soon as possible.”
“Very well. Tell the colonel, with my
compliments, that I’Ll be with him immedi
ately,” he answered, and tho orderly, salut
ing, disappeared.
With all haste he rolled out of the ham
mock, and straightened himself a1 regarded
his hair and the fastenings of bis undresi
jacket, buckled on his sword, and went off
to the colonel’8 quarters, in ignorancj that
young Tom Snow, who had been loafing
outside the tent until his master should
shout for him when it was time to dress for
mess, and so had heard tho message which
the orderly had brougiit, was fob owing him,
and that, when Booties went in, ho flung
himself down upon the sandy ground, in
blissful disregard of any plague that might
Le lurking there, be it Egyptian or other
wise.
The sentry on duty outside the colonel's
tent, of course, noticed him, and uttered a
facetious remark alter the mauni. in which
most of the Scarlet Lancers were accus
tomed to address the sharp-tonguod, amus
ing little circus waif.
“ ’Elio, young Haup-Lx What may you
be a-doing of ?”
“1 a n’t a-doing of nothing,” retorted
young Houp-La, civilly, “except a-waiting
of my master, Capt’n Ferrers, who yousw
a-going into the colonel’s quarters je>
now.”
The sentry laughed and wheeled round on
his allotted twenty yards of sentry-go, never
dreaming of ordering young Tom off, for be
was generally considered in the regnnentas
a thing of naught, beyond the fact of his be
ing a favorite protege of Capt. Ferrers.
So there he remained, and there, with bis
sharp young ears pressed c.ose toa littledis
crepancy in the canvas, which protected the
officer commanding the Scarlet Lancers
from the ni¿ht dews and damps, Tom Snow,
the circus waif, became cognizant of and
acquaint'd with the details auJ particulars
of one of the most important and dnigeroa
missions which was intrusted to or accepted
by any one of the officers and mea w jo car
ried her majesty’s unifoim into the landos
the Pharaohs in the campaign of’82.
He heard every word that passed between
his master and the three gray-haired officers
whom he found there.
It was not only a very difficult, but a very
dangerous errand which Capt. Ferrers had
beeu chosen to perform. The order was
given in the simplest and mo^t soldierly
words, and so young Toni was able to gather
its exact meaning as daarly as Booties hin>
self could do. In subst auce it was to ccnvej
a certain paj or, written in cypher, to the
officer commanding a body of troop? ly^
about five miles from the Scarlet Lancer» j
camp, which was but a short distance in®
the town of ALu-G< um, held by a strong
force of the rebels under the command
Arabi him eif.
To reach th) other British camp theenr-
must pass almost through th* reb.'l un*|
else he would find himself close under tee
walls of Abu-Goum on ih<‘on * h.and, or a-1
volved in tho swamp; which skirled then#
gin of Lake Goum on the o.her.
The general impressed upon Boo les i
need for caution and dispatch as he in-H*’1
the paper to his hands, not w ithout •
making him exactly acquainted wit
contents in case of accident by the way.
that if the paper were da mago J or ren j- |
illegible he might not reach the utiur ca .
in ignoi anee of hi? mission.
,,
And young Tom heard it all—ev'ry wnrJ
Not only beard, but saw I Sawtbegon^
give the paper—saw his master place it
small pocket book of brown leather an
I
bims'lf out, after a s.leut grip of the «
outstretched to him—saw then that be 1* I
Unt and went has ily in ihe d.recti» J
own—and, seeing that, the c^ca,.*?¡L<e4
up from his pest of observation and wiw c
him swiftly.
. u
When he reached Capt. Ferrers
found his master bending over a
bound box which stood in one cor^rS.
a box which Tom knew contained
vol vers.
I
“Is that you, Tom?” he askel.
“Ytss.r, ' answered Tom.
•
and advancing into the middle - ft«* □
“Take mv flask round to <he me s1
|
get it filial with bran ly—and be quicfc
“Yesp.r,” said Tom.
. . J
H* never hesitated an
&
should da The moment be entered • |
be had seen that on the chest
\
kw master’s table Capt. _F?rren ***