_
"_While the ranks of red and the ranks of blue
In mingled swathes are shorn;
As the poppies nigh to the cornflowers lie,
At the reaping of the corn._
"_Oh! merry to stoop over chasing hounds,
As they speed through field and wood,
When their bristles rise, and with flaming eyes
They yell for blood, for blood._
"_And merry to croak at the hunted fox,
When his brush trails draggling down,
And his strength is spent, and his back is bent,
And his tongue lolls parched and brown._
"_But merriest far to wheel o'er the fight
Of the blue coats and the red,
'Till the fire has ceased, and we swoop to the feast
Which the strife of men has spread._"
Dick's last vision before he fell asleep was of her strange figure bent
forward and watching, but he was a little startled when he woke in the
morning and remembered where he was; for he was not accustomed to sleep
in his clothes, still less in such a coat as the yellow one with the
red facings, which he found upon his back. Elsie also was much
astonished; and the sight of Dick in so strange a garment half
frightened her for a moment. But the old woman was so kind and gentle
that they were reassured, particularly when she told them that in a
very few hours she hoped they would be at home. There was indeed some
difficulty about washing, for there was no such thing as jug or basin
in the house; and, as to tubs, you would not have found them in those
days in any country-house in England.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93