d been beaten back. But was he in a funk? No; he
gave a loud "Hurrah!" picked up his sword, and fought his way back, the
enemy hard after him. It was a race for life, and he ran backwards the
whole way; he wasn't going to turn his back to the enemy. He pressed on,
shouting "Hurrah!" till he got to his own side again, and then he reached
his colonel.

'"Captain dead, sir I've got the colours!" He saluted as he said it, and
then dropped dead himself at the colonel's feet, the blood gushing out
of his heart, and over his clothes, and over this button!'

The little orator paused as he sank his voice to a tragic whisper,
then raising it again, he added triumphantly, 'And thirty bullets and
six swords had gone through my father's body! That was something like
a soldier!'

'Oh, I say!' murmured a small sceptic from the crowd, 'it was twenty
bullets last time; make it fifty, Teddy!'

'And that's the story of my button,' pursued the boy, ignoring with scorn
this last remark.

'And did your father have only one button to his coat?'

The voice was a strange one, and the boys turned round to meet the
curious gaze of a sturdy little damsel, who had, unnoticed, joined the
group. She was not dressed as an ordinary village child, but in a little
rough serge sailor suit, with a large hat to match, set well back on a
quantity of loose dark hair. A rosy-cheeked square-set little figure she
was, and her brown eyes, fringed with long black lashes, looked straight
at Teddy with something of defiance and scorn in their glance.

Though at first a little taken aback, Teddy rose to the occasion.

'One button!' he said with emphasis; 'the coat was sent to mother with
only one button left on; and if you--' here he turned upon his questioner
with a little fierceness--'if you had been through such a bloody battle,
and killed so many men, you would have burst and lost _all_ your buttons,
and not had one left, like father!'

There was a round of applause at this, but the small maiden remained
undaunted.

'Is that a true story you told?' she demanded, with severity in her tone.

'Of course it's true,' was the indignant shout of all.

'Then I tell you, boy, I don't believe a word of it!' And with set
determined lips she turned on her heel and walked away, having sown seeds
of anger and resentment in more than one boyish breast.

'Who is she?' asked Teddy as, tired and exhausted by his recital, he
threw himself on the grass to rest. One of