Read Ebook: Les Musardises by Rostand Edmond

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 888 lines and 62941 words, and 18 pages

PAGE

COLONEL FREDDY; OR, THE MARCH AND ENCAMPMENT OF THE DASHAHED ZOUAVES,

CONCLUSION, 125

COLONEL FREDDY;

OR,

THE MARCH AND ENCAMPMENT OF THE DASHAHED ZOUAVES.

BELLIGERENT POWERS.

TUESDAY morning dawned "as clear as a bell," as an old lady once said, and the Dashahed Zouaves, if not exactly up with the sun, were awake and stirring at a much earlier hour than usual; and after a rather more careful washing and brushing than soldiers usually indulge in, assembled on the lawn, looking as bright as their own buttons.

"Bravo, Louie!" said Harry, laughing; "I dare say, if we were to go to the wars, you'd keep on fighting the battles of your country till you were chopped into inch bits!"

"And pickled! I expect to be made Lieutenant-general, Commander-in-chief, Colonel, Major, Captain, Lieutenant, Sergeant Hamilton at the very least!"

"Pooh! that's nothing to the feats of bravery I intend to perform!" cried Peter. "In my first battle I shall capture a 2,000-pound columbiad with one hand tied behind me, and carry it home for a paper weight!"

"While I'm charging a regiment of mounted infantry single handed, and making them throw away their swords, and pistols, and things, and run for that 'last ditch' of theirs double quick!" said Will Costar, laughing; "but here comes breakfast, I'm happy to say. It strikes me camping out makes a fellow awful hungry, as well as no end of brave."

A servant who had been sent from the house with breakfast materials, now approached, and the table being laid, the soldiers drew their camp stools around it; Colonel Freddy sitting at the head and pouring out coffee with great gravity. Everything was going on smoothly enough, when Harry tilted the tray on one side, and Charley knocked his elbow on the other, and away went the coffee to the very end of the table!

"Charley," exclaimed the Colonel, severely, "what do you mean, sir? I'll have you put in arrest if you don't look out!"

"Who'll put me there?"

"Me!" shouted Peter. "I'm the boy to manage refractories. You'll see how I will come after you with a sharp stick--bayonet, I mean--and put you in arrest like that!" snapping his fingers.

"Why, in the smoke house. There's a patent spring bolt on the door--father had it fixed the last time we had hams made; and if anybody was once in there, they'd never get out in the world, unless they could draw themselves fine like a wire and squeeze through the chimney."

"We'll take care to keep out of it, then!" said Charley; "so, Colonel, I beg pardon for tilting the biggin--I didn't mean to do it so much--really!"

"I, too!" cried Harry; "shake hands, old chap!"

Good-tempered Freddy, always ready to "make up," caught a hand of each of his comrades, and breakfast went on amicably.

Now, there lived in the house an old English man servant named Jerry Pike. He had formerly been a groom and attendant on Peter's uncle, Major Schermerhorn, and volunteered in the army at the time of the war with Mexico, that he might follow his dear master, whom he had served and loved ever since the Major was a mere boy. He had fought bravely beside him in many a hard battle, and, for his gallant conduct, been promoted to the rank of sergeant. When the hand of death removed that kind master, Mr. Schermerhorn had gladly taken Jerry to his own house, and promised him that should be his home as long as he lived. So now, like a gallant old war horse, who has a fresh green paddock, and lives in clover in his infirm age, Jerry not only stood at ease, but lived at ease; and worked or not as he felt disposed.

When breakfast was over, Peter suddenly cried out, "I say, fellows, suppose we employ ourselves by having a drill! You know old Jerry that I told you about? I'll ask him to give us a lesson!"

"Yes! that will be grand fun!" said Freddy. "Do go and find him, Peter; I should really like to learn how to drill as the soldiers do; so when General McClellan comes along, he'll admire us as much as the English General, old Sir Goutby Slogo, did the Seventh Regiment when they paraded before the Prince. 'Really, most extraordinary style of marching these American troops have,' said he, 'most hequal to the 'Orse Guards and the Hoxford Blues coming down Regent street!'"

Meanwhile, Peter had scampered off to the house, and in a short time returned with a comical-looking little old man, dressed in faded regimentals.

He touched his cap to the boys as he approached, in military style, and then drew himself up so very stiff and straight, awaiting their orders, that, as Freddy whispered to Tom, it was a perfect wonder he didn't snap short off at the waist.

"Yes, a regular one!" chimed in the rest; "we'll run for our guns."

"Not fur your fust drill, I reckon, genl'men. You'll do bad enough without 'em, hech, hech!" cackled Jerry.

"Very well--come begin then, Jerry!" cried impatient Will.

"Are ye all ready?"

"Yes, and waiting."

"Then, genl'men, FALL IN!" exclaimed the sergeant, the first two words being uttered in his natural voice, but the last in an awful sepulchral tone, like two raps on the base kettle drum. Off duty, Jerry rather resembled a toy soldier, but when in giving his orders he stiffened his body, threw up his head, and stuck out his hands, he looked so like the wooden figures out of Noah's ark, that the boys burst into a shout of laughter.

"Now, genl'men," exclaimed Jerry in a severe tone, "this won't do. Silence in the ranks. Squad! 'Shun. The fust manoover I shel teach you, genl'men, is the manoover of 'parade rest.' Now look at me, and do as I do."

Anybody would have supposed, naturally enough, that to stand at rest meant to put your hands in your pockets and lean against a tree; but what Jerry did, was to slap his right hand against his left, like a torpedo going off, and fold them together; stick out his left foot, lean heavily upon his right, and look more like a Dutch doll than ever.

"Why, Tom, what is the matter? Are you mad at us?" cried half a dozen voices at once.

"Humm--" grumbled sulky Tom.

"What say? I can't hear you," said Freddy. "Nonsense, Tom, don't be poky, come back and drill."

"I won't! Let us alone, will you?"

The first of these was the turn about so as to fall in ranks; something the Dashahed Zouaves hadn't dreamt of before. Get into ranks? Nothing could be easier than to stand four in a row, as they had done before; but when it came to "right face," most of the soldiers were found to have opposite views on the subject, and faced each other, to their mutual astonishment. The natural consequence was, that in three seconds the regiment was in such a snarl and huddle, that no one could tell which rank he belonged to or anything else; so Jerry, perfectly purple in the face with shouting, by way of helping them out of the scrape, gave them the following remarkable advice: "Squad, 'shun! At th' wud 'Foz' the rer-rank will stepsmartly off wi' th' leffut, tekkinapesstoth' rare--Fo-o-o-res!"

"W-h-a-t!" was the unanimous exclamation.

Jerry repeated his mandate, which, after infinite puzzling , was discovered to mean, "At the word 'Fours,' the rear rank will step smartly off with the left foot, taking a pace to the rear. Fours!"

This difficulty solved, the next "article on the programme," as Peter said, was the command March! or "harch!" according to Jerry.

"Goody!" exclaimed Freddy at last, stopping short in the middle of his marching, "I can't stand this any longer! There, Jerry, we've had drill enough, thank you; I am knocked into a cocked hat, for my part!"

"Thank you, Jerry," said George, laughing, "we shall not forget our first drill in a hurry. I can't tell, for my part, which has been most bothered, you or we."

"Allers glad to give you a little practice," grinned Jerry, "though you'd rive the gizzard out of an army drill sergeant, I'd wenture to say, if he hed the teachin' of you. Hech! hech! hech! Mornin', genl'men, your sarvent," and Jerry touched his cap to Colonel Freddy and marched off chuckling.

As soon as he had made his exit, the boys clustered around Tom, as he sat turning his back on as many of the company as possible, and all began in a breath, "Now, Tom, do tell us what you're mad at; what have we done? please speak!"

"Why, Tom, how can you talk so? can't you play like the rest of us? I'm sure I haven't taken advantage of being Colonel to be domineering; have I, boys?"

"No, no! not a bit, Fred--never mind what he says!"

Tom wheeled round perfectly furious. "You say that again," he shouted, "and I'll leave the regiment! I will. I won't be told by any Northerner that I'm his subordinate, and if my State hadn't thought so too, she'd never have left the Union."

"Yes! I've a great mind to secede myself, what's more!"

Freddy, as I said, was as sweet-tempered a little fellow as ever lived; but he was fairly aroused now. His blue eyes flashed fire; he crimsoned to the temples; his fists were clenched--and shouting, "you traitor!" like a flash, he sent Tom flying over on his back, with the camp stool about his ears.

Up jumped Tom, kicked away the stool, and rushed toward Fred. But the others were too quick for him; they seized his arms and dragged him back; Peter calling out "No, don't fight him, Colonel; he's not worth it; let's have a court martial--that's the way to serve traitors!"

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet