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Updated: June 15, 2025
The heart, when it is too much alive, aches for that brown earth, and ecstasy has no fear of death. It is the old and the poor and the maimed who shrink from that brown hole; its wooers are found among the young, the passionate, the gallant-hearted. It was not until he had passed the graveyard that Emil realized where he was going. It was the hour for saying good-bye.
Humph! When I read in novels how a father's friends help the hero and heroine, succouring the widow and the fatherless, I must smile. I recall the days of our storm and stress, when those sleek and slippery wolves, the 'business friends' of my father, sat round waiting for my poor distracted, gallant-hearted mother to stumble and stagger in her struggle with those wild-cats of investments.
Of the honoured and well-loved few who one night recorded their names and thoughts in one precious little book, two are dead though it is but five years back; C E B -is dead; and R H P -is dead; C E B -the chivalrous and gallant-hearted, the champion of the past, the "Tory whom Liberals loved;" and R H P , the honest and noble, the eloquent speaker, and the brave actor, and the fearless thinker he, too, is dead, nobly volunteering in works of danger and difficulty during the Indian Mutiny; but L , and B , and M , and others are living yet, and to them I consecrate this page they will forgive the digression, and for their sakes I will venture to let it pass.
Of course, when you came to think of it, they would have to be made up of individuals gallant-hearted, boyish sort of men who would pass through doors, one at a time, into little rooms; give their name and address to a soldier man seated at a big deal table. Later on, one would say good-bye to them on crowded platforms, wave a handkerchief. Not all of them would come back.
Thus perished the fat, the plain, the carbuncled, but really gallant-hearted Raymond whose intrinsic worth was never estimated until he had ceased to exist. His fall, and all connected therewith, forms a sort of episode in our story, yet is it one not altogether without its moral.
And in the end it was a change of climate, at Natal, that killed the gallant-hearted Beetle. He died with a tattered ear, a drooping eyelid, an enlarged foot, and twelve scars on his game little body all honourable mementos of innumerable fights with the dreaded boar.
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