Persistent identifier:
52118016
image: of 355
Tho bull, irritated by bats being thrown at nlm, and other moans of annoyance, soon became ready, to run ; and then, tbe barricades bmng removed, the whole crowd, bull, men, boys, and dogs, mshed beltcr-skel ter through the streets. .
One great object being to bridge the bull, " tbe animal was, if possible, compelled to mn upon the bridge that spans tbo Wolland.
Tbe crowd then closing m, with andadous courage surrounded and seized tbe animal; and, In spite of its size and strength, by main force tumbled it over tho parapet into the river.
Tbo bull then swimming ashore, would land In tbe meadows, where tho run was continued; tbo miry, marshy state of the Gelds at that season or the year, and tbo falls and otber disasters consequent tbereon, adding greatly to the amusement of the mob. .
The sport was earned on till all were tired ; the animal was tben killed, and its Cosh sold at a low rate to the people, who finished the day's amusement with a supper of bull-beef.
22.—8t. Cecilia has long been regarded as the tutelary saint of music and musicians, but tho period at which she was first so looked upon Is Involved In obscurity. There Is a tradition that an angel by whom she was visited was attracted to earth by the charms of her singing, but when It originated Is equally unknown.
28.—Washington Irving, the American antbor, mentions that, while living in Paris, he went a long period without being able to write.
sat down repeatedly," said he, * with peu and ink, but could invent nothing worth putting on panor. At lenglh I told my fnend Tom Moore, who dropped in ono morning, that now, after long waiting, I had the mood, and would hold it, and work it out as long as it would last, until I had wrung my brain dry. Go I began to write shortly after breakfast, and continued, without noticing how the time was passing, until Moore came in again at four in the afternoon—when I had completely covered the table with freshly-written sheets. I kept tho mood almost without interruption for sli weeks/ . ,. , ,
Ho was asked which of his books was therbpult of this frenzy. He replied," Bracebridgo Ball."
" None of your works," some one said to him, "aro more charming than the Biography of Goldsinitb."
" Yet tlint was written," said be, "even more rapidly than 'Braco-brldge HalL'" Be then added, "When I have been engaged on a contlnnous work, I have often been obliged to rise in the middle of the night, light my lamp, and write an hour or two to relieve my mind; and, now that I write no more, I am sometimes compelled to get up in the same way to read."
A QUESTION.
men who come wWk eocfaZ acAemw To cure owr cotmfry'e tf7a,
Zfed kMer pauaa a ZAWe while And WAR SEEN FROM THE RANKS.
A member of the British force present at the Battle of Tel-el-IIebir was Sergeant Arthur Palmer, of the 79th Highlanders. He subsequently published an account, written with evident gusto and great wealth of detail, of the stirring scenes through which he had passed. It is an account from which, sitting by our own firesides, we may learn something ot the horror of war, and something, too, of the spirit of enthusiasm which animates those who light the battles of their country.
The March on Td-d-KeUr.—There was no breath of wind ; ■we laid hare our chests in the vain hope to catch a little air. Hands, faces, and bodies were streaming with perspiration, and soon we were almost as wet as if wc had been swimming in our clothes. The region we were traversing was a vast tract of line loose sand without a leaf of herbage or any living thing, beaten on by a glaring, scorching sun. By-and-by thirst began to rage. The big stout men suffered from it and the toil of the march more than did the little ones, llie former had soon emptied their water-bottles, and were begging of their neighbours; but to little purpose, for every man lelt that water was too precious to give away. The old boozers suffered worst, and the tongues of some of them seemed actually hanging out of their mouths. I got along pretty well by carrying a pebble in my mouth, and occasionally rinsin0* my mouth with a little water and then spitting it out.
No Time for Sentiment.—As we were marching the four miles to Nine Gun Hill, chums were giving each other messages for home in case of being killed, for all knew there was hard lighting before us. My comrade was a practical fellow ; lie had no sentiment. " If I'm put out of mess, chum," said he, "you'll find two sticks of tobacco in my pocket that you
^1 Painful Incident.—After the march was resumed, at 1.30 m., the strictest discipline was maintained, and silence rigorously enforced. Save that occasionally a horse would nei"li and another answer, not a sound was to he heard but the slow trampling of many feet on the sand, resembling the fluttering of a flock of birds. Once a man on whom the rum had taken effect, or whom the weird silence liad made ungovernably nervous, suddenly broke out into wild yells. Sir Garnet immediately rode up and ordered the offender to be bayoneted; but the regimental surgeon interposed, and begged leave to chloroform him instead. This was granted—the man was drugged into insensibility and left lying on the sand.
In Sir/lit of the Enemy.— Dawn was just breaking. I could dimly see objects in front of us looking like a lot of kangaroos hopping backwards and forwards—they were Egyptian cavalry, we afterwards learned. I nudged my companion, and Bawson whispered, " Wo are not far off now." Suddenly a shout was heard, then two shots were fired from opposite our left front, and a man of F Company fell dead. No notice was taken of this, and the brigade marched on silently, every man now on the alert. All at once a whole sheet of musketry fire flashed out, lighting up the scene far to right and left. Above the crackle of the rifle-fire sounded loud the roar of artillery. Regardless of these portents, our regiments marched steadily and silently on. The order to "Fix bayonets" was given ; when it had been obeyed, and the men sloped arms, the rattle of the bullets on the bayonets was like the sound of hailstones striking against glass. Some men, but not many, fell wounded.
The Sergeant's Exploits.—As the regiment was pursuing its advance, I had the misfortune to be detached by an order from the sergeant-major to take charge of a prisoner, a man over six feet high and as black as a coal. He was sullen and would not move; I tried to stir him with a hint from the butt-end of my rifle, on which he bolted, and 1 had to stop his flight with a bullet. Setting out to follow the regiment, T
Facebook Twitter Stumbleupon Delicious Digg RSS