The Black Hills union. [volume] (Rapid City, Pennington County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1889-1904, 1896-12-04
5. Recitation-The Charge of the Light
s aHs Brigade.
Agnes Constance Farrell.

a, The first four numbers of the pro-
gram had been given, and then the
principal of the school announced Miss
Farrell. A fair-haired young girl arose
from the front ROY of seats and ad-
vanced gracefully to the front of the
stage. Her manner was easy and self
contained, but absolutely free from
self-assertiveness; it was the manner
Of n conscious of her power, but too
modest to make that consciousness ap-
parent.
AZ With a slight but graceful bow to
the audience. she began to speak:
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward!
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Forward the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns! he said;
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred!
Clearly and distinctly the spirited
words fell from those young lips. and
as the fifth line of the stanza was
reached they rung through the house
like the notes of Cardigan's bugle, as
he ordered that famous charge. Los
ing all consciousness of self in the ar
dor Of her part, fired with the glorious
spirit Of the lines, she rose to a height
of oratory almost sublime, and held
her audience bound under the spell of
her power.
I have never heard anything finer
49,. 49,. o-,ooio~o "
fourth stanza of the immortal poem:
FLASHED all their sabers bare,
FLASHED as they turned in air,
Sab'ring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wondered!
Plunged in the battery smoke,
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeled from the saber stroke,
Shattered and sundered.
Then they rode back; but not
Not the six hundred.
The slight figure of the girl trembled
with enthusiasm, her face glowed like
that of one inspired and her marvellous
voice, sweet, clear and resonant, cut
the air like one of those Flashing sa-
bers." At the close of her recitation
the audience, until then rapt in silent
admiration, burst into a perfect storm
OF applause. I had never seen nor
heard a more brilliant performance.
Come" said Darcy, eve can go
now. That is what l wanted you to
hear. What do you think Of her?"
"She is a wonderful girl" I an
swered, Simply wonderful. What do
you know about herr"
Il am going to tell you," said Jack.
ut is a very pretty little story of hero
ism, but it came near being a tragedy.
Agnes Farrell is eighteen years old.
l have known her for four years. She
is one of the brightest girls I ever
saw. Her tastes are intellectual, and
yet she is as far from being a blue
stocking as she could we'll be. Few
of you editorial 'know-alls' are so we'll
Informed in general literature, philo-
sophy, natural history, science and as
tronomy as she is.
"And yet she has her sail boat at the
s%eashore, and few mn can equal her in
it's management. She swims like a
fish and is as brave as bravery itself.
In fact, she excels in all outdoor
sports that girls indulge in, and enters
into them with as much spirit as she
exhibited on the stage just a moment
ago.
but let me tell you the story that 1
referred to-. Her father has a cottage
at a quiet little place down on the
coast, a place separated from the main
land hY a broad generally nlacid inlet