StNicholas [serial] . e carried it up tothe bothy where he and his mates had livedtogether, the roughest of them felt that thisman had been a hero. No doubt he ought not to have dared somuch; but having dared, he did not flinch. FOR THE SAKE OF A HORSE. His duty was that of every driver,— to stickto the last by his horses,— and he did it tothe uttermost. He was a rough man, Jock, who never readanything except the stories in the weekly news-paper which used to circulate in the were times when Jock took a glass toomuch on a fair-day at Muirtown, and then hewas inclined to fight. Hi
StNicholas [serial] . e carried it up tothe bothy where he and his mates had livedtogether, the roughest of them felt that thisman had been a hero. No doubt he ought not to have dared somuch; but having dared, he did not flinch. FOR THE SAKE OF A HORSE. His duty was that of every driver,— to stickto the last by his horses,— and he did it tothe uttermost. He was a rough man, Jock, who never readanything except the stories in the weekly news-paper which used to circulate in the were times when Jock took a glass toomuch on a fair-day at Muirtown, and then hewas inclined to fight. His language, also, was not suited for polite society, and his temper wasnot always under perfect control. Let me say it plainly : Jock was nothing buta Scots plowman, and all he did that day wasto save the life, not of a child or of a man,but of a cart-horse worth about ^50. It was,however, his bit of duty as Jock understood it,and all he had to give was his life, and he gaveit, without hesitation and without AUTUMN WORK. •&**% %~Z3 —. ? ? -***-. ?*? J^~ * *. ** »T Br cs>iLLi/\m- r/ORd buxyes. Stands the old Austrasian castle white against the hills afar,Every spire and tapering turret pointing to some splendid star;On its battlements the moonlight breaks in many a silver bar. Tramp of horse, with jest and laughter, from the oaken drawbridge sounds;With his archers and companions, with his kingly hawk and hounds,Charles the Duke comes riding homeward from his feudal hunting-grounds. Clattering up the rocky roadway, rides with wild and breathless speedStraight to Charless side a herald; there he checks his foaming now the merry courtiers, crowding near his words to heed. Sire, the dreaded Moorish army presses on through Aquitaine;Eudo with his stout retainers strives to check their course in the south of France lies groaning neath the yoke of Moslem Spain! THE BALLAD OF CHARLES MARTEL. [Nov.
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Keywords: ., bookauthordodgemar, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, bookyear1873
