|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 15
"Forward, march!" ordered Colonel Wood.
"On to Cuba!" sang the trumpets.
And the "Terrors" yelled themselves hoarse at the prospect of being let
loose.
CHAPTER VI
OFF FOR THE WAR
Of course Ridge had written home and informed his family of his
whereabouts as soon as he found himself regularly enlisted with the
Rough Riders. The news afforded Mr. Norris immense satisfaction, while
Spence Cuthbert declared that if Ridge were her brother she should be
proud of him.
"If that is said for my benefit," remarked Dulce, "you may rest assured
that I am always proud of my brother. I must confess, though, that I
should like it better if he were an officer; for, as I have never known
any private soldiers, I can't imagine what they are like. It must be
very unpleasant, though, to have to associate with them all the time.
I wish Ridge had told us more about that Mr. Van Kyp who owns the car.
Of course, though, one of his wealth and position must be an officer, a
captain at the very least, and perhaps Ridge doesn't see much of him
now."
Mrs. Norris was greatly disappointed to find that all her efforts in
her son's behalf had been wasted That he should have deliberately
chosen to becoming a "common soldier," as she expressed it, instead of
accepting the commission offered him, was beyond her comprehension.
She mourned and puzzled over this until the arrival of Ridge's next
letter, which conveyed the gratifying intelligence that, having been
made a corporal, he was now an officer. She did not know what a
corporal was, but that Ridge had risen above the ranks of "common
soldiers" was sufficient, and from that moment the fond mother began to
speak with pride of her son, who was an officer in the cavalry.
At length the quiet household was thrown into a flutter of excitement
by the receipt of a telegram, which read:
"Have again been promoted. Regiment ordered to Tampa. Leave to-day.
Meet us at Algiers, if possible."
Mr. Norris hurried into the city to consult railway officials
concerning the movements of the regiment, and found that the train
bearing his son's troop would pass through the city on the morrow.
Early the next morning, therefore, he escorted his wife and the girls
across the Mississippi, where, in the forlorn little town of Algiers,
they awaited as patiently as might be the coming of their soldier boy.
The mother's anxiety to meet her son was almost equalled by her desire
to see how handsome he would look in an officer's uniform. Concerning
this she had formed a mental picture of epaulettes, gold lace, brass
buttons, plumes, and a sword; for had she not seen army officers in
Paris?
The two girls discussed as to whether or not Ridge was now travelling
in the same luxurious private car that had borne him to San Antonio.
Spence thought not, but Dulce believed he would be. "Of course if
Ridge was still a private I don't suppose it would be good form for
_Captain_ Van Kyp to invite him," she said; "but now that he is an
officer, and perhaps even of equal rank, I can't imagine any reason why
they should not travel together as they did before."
There was no reason, and the joint proprietors of the little dog-tent,
of which, when in marching order, each carried one-half, were
travelling together on terms of perfect equality, as was discovered a
little later, when the long train, thickly coated with dust and
cinders, rumbled heavily into the station. Heads protruded from every
window of the crowded coaches, and hundreds of eyes gazed approvingly
at the pretty girls who were anxiously looking for a private car, while
trying not to blush at the very audible compliments by which they were
greeted.
Suddenly they heard the familiar voice. "Mother! Father! Girls!" it
called, and turning quickly in that direction, they discovered the
object of their search. Sun-browned and dust-begrimed, his face
streaked by rivulets of perspiration, wearing a disreputable-looking
felt hat and a coarse blue flannel shirt, open at the throat, their
boy, beaming with delight, was eagerly beckoning to them. Two other
cinder-hued faces were attempting to share the window with him, but
with only partial success.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|