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Updated: June 12, 2025
At the outer gate our junior ensign languidly dusted a speck of snuff from his wristband, and indicated the roof of our hut, which was visible above the feathery river willows. So we proceeded thither, I resigning my horse to the soldier, Mount, who had been holding him, and who was now detailed to act as soldier-servant to me still.
When I heard him coming, I opened my book, and seated myself in a corner of a sofa; he walked to the window without noticing me, and drummed on the piano. "Does your wrist pain you, Charles?" still reading. "A trifle," adjusting his wristband. "Do you often knock men down in your employ?" "When they deserve it." "It is a generous and manly sort of pastime."
Suddenly Smarlinghue pushed back the wristband of his shirt, and pricked the skin with the needle of the hypodermic. The door, without a sound, swung wide open. Clancy stood in the doorway. "Good-night again, Smarlinghue," he said coolly. The hypodermic fell clattering to the floor; Smarlinghue jumped nervously in his chair.
Dale had accompanied him half-way, and as they now turned back to the parsonage, they looked behind to catch a glimpse of the tall, outlandish figure, winding slowly through the path amidst the waves of the green corn. "Poor man!" said Mrs. Dale, feelingly; "and the button was off his wristband! What a pity he has nobody to take care of him! He seems very domestic.
I stood before the mirror with its lighted sconces, gazing grimly at my sober face while Cato tied my queue-ribbon and dusted my silken coat-skirts. Then I fastened the brilliant buckle under my chin, shook out the deep, soft lace at throat and wristband, and took my small-sword from Cato. "Mars' George," murmured the old man, "yo' look lak yo' is gwine wed wif mah li'l Miss Dorry."
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