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Updated: June 10, 2025
And where would you be from, and what would you be wanting here?" he asks, grown civil as a bagman with a bit of ribbon to sell. "Shipmate," says I, "if I'm one of the right sort, my port's Southampton and my flag's the ensign. Take me down to Mme. Czerny, whom I see among the flower-beds yonder, and you shall know enough about me in five minutes to bring the tears to your beautiful eyes.
The brown column passed on, the golden dust hanging along its flanks. Far ahead we could still hear the drums and fifes playing "Unadilla." "They ought to have a flag; a flag's a good thing to fight for," said Mount, looking after them. "I fought for the damned British rag when I was fifteen. Lord! it makes me boil to think that they've forgot what we did for 'em!"
She ended with one unknown to her listeners, but better than all the rest in its pathetic words and music, and when she had sung The Flag's come back to Tennessee, the spokesman of the sailors came aft again, to thank her for his mates, and to say they would not spoil that last song by asking for anything else.
"It may mean that I must excuse myself and leave. Just a moment, please." Passing across the line of her vision, he disappeared to the left. When she next heard his voice, it was almost directly above her. "No," it said. "There's no hurry. The flag's not up." "What flag?" "The flag in my compound." "Can you see your home from here?" "Yes; there's a ledge on the cliff that gives a direct view."
After crossing a stubble-field, now overgrown by the violet-coloured pimpernel, I reached the sinister pool, fringed with the flag's sword-like leaves and shadowed by willows and alders. I expected to find the water all in tumult; but no, it had the dark, solemn stillness of the mountain tarn.
From the broad veranda of Mallaby House the view extended a dozen miles to sea. Beneath the hill on which the mansion stood the village of Freekirk Head nestled against the green. Now the dim, yellow lights of its many lamps glowed in the darkness and edged the crescent of stony beach where washed the cold waters of Flag's Cove.
"All right, Bill," exclaimed an old fisherman, who had been for some time past sweeping the horizon with his glass, "the flag's a-flyin'." "What does that mean?" asked a smart young lady, who had braved the blast and run the risk of a salt-wash from the sprays at the pier-end in her eager desire to see the boat arrive.
This very morning I chanced upon your secret through little Victorine that every stitch in all that flag's embroideries is yours." "Yet, Captain Kincaid, it is the flag of all those hundred girls; and if to any one marching under it it is to be the flag of any one of us singly, that one can only be you know!"
He came through his horses on the jump, carried them off their feet, they all broke yes, the flag's down, and he's out with a clean lead."
Phil was not sure, from the showman's expression, whether he had recognized them or not. Mr. Sparling answered this question almost at once. "How are you, Forrest? Well, Tucker, I suppose you've come back primed to put my whole show to the bad, eh?" "Maybe," answered Teddy carelessly. "Oh, maybe, eh? So that's the way the flag's blowing, is it?
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