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Updated: May 8, 2025
Mirages A glimpse of Piquetberg road The Aurania Embarkation scenes The last of Africa A pleasant night. September 27 was a red-letter day. News came that all the C.I.V. were going home on the following Monday. I was overwhelmed with congratulations in the barrack-room.
He, the rhapsodist of the red coat, was out and away the most popular poet in the country of the blue, and that at a time when the blue coat in itself was inimitably popular. Nor could there be any doubt that his Barrack-room Ballads were the most popular of his works.
Being for parade, however, he was obliged to leave his friend in other keeping, for a short period, and so hastened to the barrack-room to prepare himself for his morning duties.
Here, in the years gone by, did Private Ortheris establish his depot and menagerie for such possessions, dead and living, as could not safely be introduced to the barrack-room. Here were gathered Houdin pullets, and fox-terriers of undoubted pedigree and more than doubtful ownership, for Ortheris was an inveterate poacher and preeminent among a regiment of neat-handed dog-stealers.
True, the individual soldier may have his day's leave, nay, his month's furlough; but his enjoyments resulting therefrom are not realised in the atmosphere of the barrack-room, but rather have their origin in the abandonment for the nonce of his military character and a pro tempore return into civilian life.
The Colonel walked home and told the story to his wife, who nearly cried over it. The Colonel was well pleased. If that was the temper of the children, what would not the men do? Jakin and Lew entered the boys' barrack-room with great stateliness, and refused to hold any conversation with their comrades for at least ten minutes.
Sergeant Sparks came up to him and chatted pleasantly for half an hour. He wore a ribbon at his breast, and had stirring stories to tell of the Afghan war, and Roberts' march to Candahar. About half-past eight the men began to return from their walks and various amusements, and the barrack-room grew more noisy.
Sixteen artificers at the same time mounted to their barrack-room, and all the foremen of the works also took possession of their cabin, all heartily rejoiced at getting rid of the trouble of boating and the sickly motion of the tender. Saturday, 12th May. The wind was at E.N.E., blowing so fresh, and accompanied with so much sea, that no stones could be landed to-day.
It is hard to say which was the more laughable: the spare and bony figure of the cadet, sitting bolt upright like a graven image in a tight uniform, with his eyes glued to the ceiling of his barrack-room, or the young man, with gaunt features, round shoulders, and uncombed hair, who wandered alone about the streets of Paris in 1795. They had the same love of method and of order.
"Well, you a'n't a nigger, I reckon, but yer a strolling vagrant, and that's worse," he continued, after examining his face very minutely. So, dragging him to the guardhouse as he would a dog, and thrusting him into a sort of barrack-room, the captain of the guard and several officials soon gathered around him to inquire the difficulty.
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