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Updated: May 12, 2025
"Il est mon fils il est mon fils, Curey," presenting me, as he spoke, while the burgomaster, in whose eyes the major seemed no inconsiderable personage, saluted me with profound respect. Turning at once towards this functionary, I explained that I was the bearer of important despatches, and that my horse I was ashamed to say my mule having fallen lame, I was unable to proceed.
Nothing like watching one's little chances! 'The poor is hated even by his neighbor. Oui, Curey, it is Solomon says that, and they must have had a heavy poor-rate in his day to make him say so. Another glass of sherry!" By this time I approached the back of the chair, and slapping him heartily on the shoulder, called out, "Major, old boy, how goes it?" "Eh? what how! who is this?
Many, however, of the more gentle spirits were filled with horror at these barbarities and the perpetual carnage going on. Captain Curey, for example, one of the bravest officers of the garrison, who had been driven to take up arms by the sufferings of his countrymen, although he had naturally a horror of bloodshed, was subject to fits of melancholy at the contemplation of these horrors.
"Very hard upon me, all this; upon my life, so it is! Picton is always at me, just as if we had not been school-fellows. The service is getting worse every day. Regardez-moi, Curey, mong face est propre? Eh? There, thank you. Good fellow the Curey is, but takes a deal of fluid. Oh, Burgomaster! I fear it is all up with me! No more fun, no more jollification, no more plunder and how I did do it.
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