"'Twas in the merry month of May,
When bees from flower to flower did hum,
Soldiers through the town marched gay,
The village flew to the sound of the drum!"
Jack drew back into the hedge to watch as the regiment went by.
"March at ease!" The sunlight flashed as the arms were sloped, and glittered on bright blades as the officers returned their swords. Not a detail escaped his eager observation; the swing of the rifle-barrels, the crisp tramp of the marching feet, even the chink of the chain bridles as the horses of the mounted officers shook their heads, all seemed to touch answering chords in his inmost heart, and awaken there the old love and longing for a soldier's life.
"The tailor he got off his knees,
And to the ranks did boldly come:
He said he ne'er would sit at ease,
But go with the rest, and follow the drum!"
Jack hesitated no longer, but hurried back to pick up the few belongings he had left at the hotel, determined to put his project into execution without further delay.
CHAPTER XV.
THE QUEEN'S SHILLING.
"If he had called out, 'Here I am,' it would have been all right; but he was too proud to cry out for help while he wore a uniform."—The Brave Tin Soldier.
There was no more hesitation or uncertainty about his movements now, and before he knew it, Jack found himself once more back at the barracks. The corporal on "gate duty," who, for want of something better to do, had been chastising his own leg with a "swagger cane," ceased in the performance of this self-imposed penance, and shot a significant glance at the stranger.