of the popular
prejudice against "the military." Indeed the village was now somewhat
importantly represented in the army. There was the General himself,
and the Postman, and the Black Captain's tablet in the church, and
Jackanapes, and Tony Johnson, and a Trumpeter.

[Illustration]

Tony Johnson had no more natural taste for fighting than for riding,
but he was as devoted as ever to Jackanapes, and that was how it came
about that Mr. Johnson bought him a commission in the same cavalry
regiment that the General's grandson (whose commission had been given
him by the Iron Duke) was in, and that he was quite content to be the
butt of the mess where Jackanapes was the hero; and that when
Jackanapes wrote home to Miss Jessamine, Tony wrote with the same
purpose to his mother; namely, to demand her congratulations that they
were on active service at last, and were ordered to the front. And he
added a postscript to the effect that she could have no idea how
popular Jackanapes was, nor how splendidly he rode the wonderful red
charger whom he had named after his old friend Lollo.

* * * * *

"Sound Retire!"

A Boy Trumpeter, grave with the weight of responsibilities and
accoutrements beyond his years, and stained, so that his own mother
would not have known him, with the sweat and dust of battle, did as he
was bid; and then pushing his trumpet pettishly aside, adjusted his
weary legs for the hundredth time to the horse which was a world too
big for him, and muttering, "'Tain't a pretty tune," tried to see
something of this, his first engagement, before it came to an end.

Being literally in the thick of it, he could hardly have seen less or
known less of what happened in that particular skirmish if he had been
at home in England. For many good reasons; including dust and smoke,
and that what attention he dared distract from his commanding officer
was pretty well absorbed by keeping his hard-mouthed troop-horse in
hand, under pain of execration by his neighbors in the melee.
By-and-by, when the newspapers came out, if he could get a look at one
before it was thumbed to bits, he would learn that the enemy had
appeared from ambush in overwhelming numbers, and that orders had been
given to fall back, which was done slowly and in good order, the men
fighting as they retired.

Born and bred on the Goose Green, the youngest of Mr. Johnson's
gardener's numerous off-spring, the boy had given his fam