What says the wise, sad humorist?—
“Our youth! our youth! that spring of springs,
It surely is one of the blessedest things
By Nature ever invented.
When the rich are happy in spite of their wealth,
When the poor are rich in spirits and health,
And all with their lot contented.”
Guy Waldron, full of hope, and thirsting for wild life and adventure, rode side by side with Jack, carolling as he went, like Taillefer singing the song of Rollo in the fore-front of the Battle of Hastings.
Doorival followed at a short distance, accompanied by the dog Help, whom he had managed to propitiate, and to whom he from time to time addressed all kinds of pretended inquiries and suggestions.
“By Jove!” said Guy, “I feel quite a new man now I’ve got away from that confounded dull place, and that dismal old growler Blockham. He’s like the man in Marcus Clarke’s ballad, who ‘Did nothing but swear and smoke.’ It’s a luxury to have a Christian to talk to again. Talk of Englishmen!—Doorival’s a king to him.”