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Updated: June 29, 2025
"You see," he went on, "my Lady's little son came home and told us of a coat that you had put on him, which sounded to me like a drummer's coat; though of course as I haven't seen it I may be quite wrong; but I was wondering if he had ever been a soldier, as I am myself, and been wounded at some time." "No, he wasn't never a soldier," said the woman hastily.
A fifer plays a shrill accompaniment to a drummer's song, a strain of light love and bloody war, with a chorus thundered forth by twenty voices. Meantime, a veteran in the corner is prosing about Dettingen and Fontenoy, and relates camp- traditions of Marlborough's battles, till his pipe, having been roguishly charged with gunpowder, makes a terrible explosion under his nose.
Then William Wylder shut the hall-door, and turned about. Little Fairy's drum was hanging from a peg on the hat-stand the drum that was to sound no more in the garden, or up and down the hall, with the bright-haired little drummer's song.
They have the air and appearance of devotees, men set aside, roaming preachers of a jehad whose meaning they have forgotten. They seem to be invariably of the short, dark type. The larger, fair- haired, long-headed men are common in business, but not in 'drumming. The drummer's eyes have a hard, rapt expression.
After all, Thurot, with his fleet, did no more than bully them a little, and the poor fellow was finally extinguished by a few small cruisers, like a drummer's boy under a grenadier's cap; but honest Paul sang a different tune for his countrymen to dance to, and "
Accordingly, the serjeant repaired to the constable's house, where the knight was lodged; and humbled himself before his honour, protesting with many oaths, that, if he had known his quality, he would have beaten the drummer's brains about his ears, for presuming to give his honour or his horse the least disturbance; thof the fellow, he believed, was sufficiently punished in being a cripple for life.
The last time he awoke it was day; and the short-lived camp-fires were paling their sad rays before the eternal glory of the sunrise. The veteran Sinjin beat the drummer's call. Frank seized his drum and hurried to join his friend, beating with him the last reveillé which was to rouse up the regiment in the Old Bay State.
The Swede swapped the map to a soap drummer for half a dozen cakes of scented shaving sticks, and the drummer goes explorin'. He had a soap drummer's luck. He didn't find any Injuns left. Most of 'em had died off and the rest had joined Wild West shows. The gold mine was there, though, with chunks of solid gold lyin' around as big as peach baskets. Mr.
Three months later Soda Springs awoke to find pasted by an unknown hand on the window of the Emporium a newspaper account of that Jew drummer's taking off. The newspaper could offer no theory and merely recited the fact that the man suffered from a heavy-calibred bullet.
Carrie revived a little under the drummer's electrical, nervous condition. "Did I do so very bad?" "Not a bit. All you need is a little more ginger. Do it as you showed me. Get that toss of your head you had the other night." Carrie remembered her triumph in the room. She tried to think she could to it. "What's next?" he said, looking at her part, which she had been studying.
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