. Jackanapes. Daddy Darwin's dovecot. The story of a short life . and sporran with their unfettered limbs;of the rhythmic tread of their white feet and the flutter-ing ribbons on the bagpipes; and of Alans hand-some face looking out of his most becoming bravery. The result of his meditations Leonard announcedwith his usual lucidity: — I am Scotch, not Irish, though OReilly is thenicest man I ever knew. But I must tell him that Ireally cannot grow up into an Owld Soldier, becauseI mean to be a young Highland officer, and look atladies with my eyes like t/iis - - and carry my swordso ! CHAPTER V
. Jackanapes. Daddy Darwin's dovecot. The story of a short life . and sporran with their unfettered limbs;of the rhythmic tread of their white feet and the flutter-ing ribbons on the bagpipes; and of Alans hand-some face looking out of his most becoming bravery. The result of his meditations Leonard announcedwith his usual lucidity: — I am Scotch, not Irish, though OReilly is thenicest man I ever knew. But I must tell him that Ireally cannot grow up into an Owld Soldier, becauseI mean to be a young Highland officer, and look atladies with my eyes like t/iis - - and carry my swordso ! CHAPTER V. Oh that a man might know the end of this days business ere it comes Julius Ccesar- EARS of liv-ing amongstsoldiers hadJf/j increased,rather thandiminished,Mrs. Jonessrelish for thesights andsounds of mil-itary life. The charmof novelty isproverbiallygreat, butit is not sopowerful asQ i£>y that peculiarspell which drew the retired tallow-chandler back to shop onmelting-days, and which guided the choice of thesexton of a cemetery who only took one holiday. THERES TROUBLE IN THE AIR. 59 trip in the course of seven years, and then he wentto a cemetery at some distance to see how they man-aged matters there. And, indeed, poor humanity maybe very thankful for the infatuation, since it goesfar to make life pleasant in the living to plain folkwho do not make a point of being discontented. In obedience to this law of nature, the BarrackMasters wife did exactly what OReilly had expectedher to do. As she could not drive to the Field Day,she strolled out to see the troops go by. Then thevigor derived from breakfast and the freshness of the o morning air began to fail, the day grew hotter, thecamp looked dreary and deserted, and, either fromphysical weakness or from some untold cause, anameless anxiety, a sense of trouble in the air, beganto oppress her. Wandering out again to try and shake it off, it wasalmost a relief, like the solving of a riddle, to findBlind Baby sitting upon h
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