The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1885-04-29

| Ycrle6L cOWdru lJluR III ulIOh W oo-
cape powder and steel But his skin
was by no means unhealthy thin, and
he felt no scruples ON the point of
honor. What did trouble him was the
uncertainty; and not even that troubled
him long, at least SO soon as hunger re-
turned in full activity. But that also
had to be forgotten, so far as that in
exorcisable spirit may. He did his
best; and the battle of Talavcra ragged
round Dick Blackthorn sitting in the
midst of it and attempting to kill no
enemy but time, with a cigar.
| And over him also the ominous first
night fell, with its silence as Of q lurid
sky before its first sullen growl Well,
night was the time for making his way
somewhither; in the present state o. bis
appetite 1t did not seem to matter much
where. Better capture and a crust than
liberty without crumb. The French
might be in Talavera by this time, for
aught he knew But nothing venture,
nothing win.
So, to prepare himself for the next
fortune OF war, he buckled himself as
tight as he could, made himself quid
for he had been sailor; and then
but, behold, q sight that made his
heart leap for joy; the heart of a man
who had tasted nothing but tobacco,
and not much of that, for near four
and-twenty hours, and in near eight
and-forty little more than the scrapings
of an unknown bone.
1t was q hedgehog; nothing more.
But the soldier and sailor had been q
gypsy, too, SO far as gentle may.
In trice he had put the bristly inno-
cent into clay pie, had lighted fire
Of sticks, and then watched the baking
for good hour. 1t was not too long;
but it could scarcely be underdone for
one so hungry as he. Another man
might have feared to light fire, but
not Dick Blackthorn-thatw was not his
way. If he had to cook on powder
barrel he would have taken his chance,
and, had there been a choice, would as
likely as not have preferred the barrel
to a hearthstone. He broke the clay
case, ate, and was thankful. And he
, , had cause; for l doubt if General
Wellesley or Marshal Victor had half so
0 good supper that night as he.
A good supper deserves a nap; so he
o lay down for half an hour. 81 can al.
h ways wake to any minute l choose. "
said he to his horse. "Half an hour
. not minute more"
y He slept precisely half an hour-to
Q the minute. Only, instead Of waking,
o he went on sleeping, and without a
i dream. Indeed, it seemed to have been
i but five minutes when he woke up in
!. the broad day.
THAT comes of supping on hedge
hogr' said he. "And-there they're at
: it againv'
And sure enough they were, il
n thunder is to be believed. Dick Black
n thorn had contrived to sleep peacefully
for hours, as peacefully as if In his old
bed at quiet Legs Croft, while horse and
foot were charging and flying around
o him, and the powers of the world were
J, warning like Titans within reach Of ear
and eye. cat it again" indeed they
were; If that were all. So good it is to
d be a vagabond, whom breakfast con
k Germs more than all-at least, till din
t ner-time. But even Dick Blackthorn,
], once fairly awake, felt kind Of awe.
n He took his horse by the bride, with
s out mounting. and led him farther up
o the dry stream. He might find some
o spot where he could see without being
l. seen.
l. But he found none better than shell
/, tered cleft of rock where he might sit
W and listen while the battle ragged and
h roared around. 1t was as sweet nook
q as man might find in that arid Castil
1t ian plain; hermit might have choser
N it for his cell. A little spring bubblec
IT up, and took the water-course for som'
s yards before It was swallowed up In thu
ct midsummer dryness. No doubt, afte
h the rains, it became stream. The Gel
g was carpeted with fresh, wet moss; ant
10 shrubs, sheltered by the overhanginl
rock from the scorch Of noon, made !
W a bower No true vagabond could pas
ct such aspot, so made for rest and shelter
e. And what was to be gained by goinI
ID on, before they who were fighting hal
t, time to feedP Clearly. nothing at all
10 unless Il was bullet for a fool.
IA So there he sat, and found plenty Q
st occupation in meditating, after hi
III manner, on many things. That b
a thought OF his sweetheart can no
x truly 10 said, for she was much to
OF numerous; and, besides, yesterday
n adventure had sickened him of tha
es sort of thing. But he did think ono
ed more Of his home, and of his obstinat
d. old dunderhead of a father-God bles
re him, anyhow-and Of his sister, and {
he the beef and bacon now doubtless b'
TO fore them, and Of the homc-brewed ale
Perhaps his father would be trile rC
he pentant IL he could look and see I
nd what his unforgivingness had brougf
his only son. But no; there was n
by good in dwelling on that No Blacl
y thorn could give in, If it were for notl
ing better than straw. "And I'll M
give in, seeing / was in the right Of 1t,
/. thought he. "And father will new
no give in, Just because he's In the wronI
ne I'd never forgive the old chap II he gay
ng in; and II gave in he'd never forgi'
~ ~ me. It's pity, but-Holloa"
,.s It was rush of men 80 near that b
W w could distinguish their shouting an
nj hear the clash Of bayonet and swor
:. - But before he could see more, 1t he
adj swept by.
h. But every day has an end; and at Ia
Ier the big guns ceased firing, and all b
- came strangely still. Surely he mig