Genre - War. You are on the page - 10
ction?--notfor publication, of course.""I should suppose not," said Ridley significantly. "For a Divine hewas--remarkably free." "The Pump in Neville's Row, for example?" enquired Mr. Pepper. "Precisely," said Ambrose. Each of the ladies, being after the fashion of their sex, highly trainedin promoting men's talk without listening to it, could think--about theeducation of children, about the use of fog sirens in an opera--withoutbetraying herself.
point.And all the while, never a sound of firing, never a sight of the red and blue of the French uniforms. The war might have been two hundred miles away! Meanwhile Tommy on his marches was discovering things. Wonder of wonders, this curious people called "baccy" tabac! "And if yer wants a bit of bread yer awsks for pain, strewth!" He loved to hear the French gabble to him in their excited way; he never thought that reciprocally his talk was just as funny. The French
given us for barracks; there, on the bare stone floor, in close-packed promiscuity, too tired to react to filth and vermin, we spent our first night as soldiers of the Sultan, while the milky moonlight streamed in through every chink and aperture, and bats flitted round the vaulting above the snoring carcasses of the recruits.Next morning we were routed out at five. The black depths of the well in the center of the mosque courtyard provided doubtful water for washing, bathing, and drinking;
The congregation of St. John's assembled on a Sunday morning as befitted its importance and dignity. Families arrived, or arrived by two or three representatives, and proceeded with due solemnity to their private pews. No one, of course, exchanged greetings on the way up the church, but every lady became aware, not only of the other ladies present, but of what each wore. A sidesman, with an air of portentous gravity, as one who, in opening doors, performed an office more on behalf of the Deity
"_--Heedless and careless, still the world wags on, And leaves me broken ... Oh, my son! my son!_"Yet--think of this!-- Yea, rather think on this!-- He died as few men get the chance to die,-- Fighting to save a world's morality. He died the noblest death a man may die, Fighting for God, and Right, and Liberty;-- And such a death is Immortality. "_He died unnoticed in the muddy trench._" Nay,--God was with him, and he did not blench; Filled him with holy fires that nought
. He wore a faded blue sweater, ragged with dirt, and short pants. His hair was long and matted. Brown hair. It hung over his face and around his ears. He held something in his arms."What's that you have?" Hendricks said sharply. The boy held it out. It was a toy, a bear. A teddy bear. The boy's eyes were large, but without expression. Hendricks relaxed. "I don't want it. Keep it." The boy hugged the bear again. "Where do you live?" Hendricks said. "In