He warms on the theme as he dilates
on it, and sings as he turns to his pretty wife:
'I knew by the smoke that so gracefully curled
Above the green elms that a cottage was near;
And I said, if there's peace to be found in the world,
The heart that is humble might hope for it here.'
"How sweet to plan, how pleasant to execute. How exciting to see it
grow under one's own eye, the work of one's own hand, the creation of
one's own taste. It is decided on; Dechamps retires, the papers go in,
the hero goes out--what a relief! no inspection of soldiers' dirty
kits--no parade by day--no guards nor rounds by night--no fatigue
parties of men who never fatigue themselves--no stupid
court-martial--no horrid punishments--no reviews to please a colonel
who never is pleased, or a general who will swear--no marching through
streets, to be stared at by housemaids from upper windows, and by
dirty boys in the side paths--no procession to follow brass
instruments, like the train of a circus--no bearded band-master with
his gold cane to lead on his musicians, and no bearded white goat to
march at the head of the regiment. All, all are gone.
"He is out of livery, he has played at soldiering long enough, he is
tired of the game, he sells out, the man of business is called in, his
lawyer, as he terms him, as if every gentleman kept a lawyer as he
does a footman.
Pages:
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573