"I didn't know the cadets were taught how to put out fires," remarked Grace, when her father had finished reading aloud, to his wife and children, Max's story of the doings of the cadets on that night.
"Yes," the captain said, "that is an important part of their education. There are a great many things a cadet needs to know."
"I suppose so, papa," said Lulu, "and though Maxie doesn't say much about his own share in the work, I feel very sure he did his part. And aren't you proud of him—your eldest son?"
"I am afraid I am," replied her father, with a smile in his eyes. "It may be all parental partiality, but my boy seems to me one of whom any father might well be proud."
"And I am quite of your opinion, my dear," said Violet. "I am very proud of my husband's son—the dear, good, brave fellow."
But the captain's eyes were again upon the letter, his face expressing both interest and amusement.
"What is it, Levis?" she asked; "something more that you can share with the rest of us?"
"Yes," he returned; then read aloud:
"That was Friday night, and this is Saturday evening. This afternoon Hunt and I were allowed to go into the city. We were walking along one of the side streets, and came upon a man who was beating his horse most unmercifully.
"The poor thing was just a bag of bones, that seemed to have nothing but skin over them, and was hitched to a cart heavily loaded with earth and stones; its head was down, and it looked ready to drop, while the savage wretch (not worthy to be called a man) was beating it furiously, and cursing and swearing in a towering passion; men and boys gathering around, and some calling him to stop.