Summary

Richard Stead With Marlborough to Malplaquet…

Beyond the stream, with the advantage of rising ground, were planted the French guns, supported by a powerful host.
Away! The cavalry dashed onwards at a terrific pace. A sharp rattle of musketry rang out, and in a moment a sprinkling of the advancing troopers fell from their saddles. George Fairburn was already warming to the work, and he sat his steed firmly. Then a ball struck the gallant animal, and in an instant the rider was flung over its head. The young cornet narrowly escaped being trampled to pieces by his comrades as they swept by in full career.
Source: Gutenberg

Richard Stead With Marlborough to Malplaquet…

So greatly was his business increasing, that the proprietor of the little colliery came to a decision that seemed likely to affect his son's whole future life.
"What would you like to be, my lad?" he one day inquired abruptly.
"A soldier, dad," was the prompt reply, the boy regarding his father in some wonderment, nevertheless.
"A soldier, says the lad!" Fairburn exclaimed, no less surprised by the answer than George had been by the question. "It is the most detestable of all trades, that of soldiering, and about the most empty-stomached. Don't talk of such a thing, my good lad."
Source: Gutenberg

Richard Stead With Marlborough to Malplaquet…

The afternoon was fast waning when the coach brought to its passengers the first glimpse of the blackened old fortress of Newcastle and the lantern tower of St. Nicholas. Fairburn, almost as helpless as on the previous afternoon, was speedily lifted down from his lofty perch by the strong arms of his father.
"Ah, my dear lad," the elder cried as he hugged George to his breast, "the mother has a store of good things ready for her bairn and for Christmas. And here is old Dapper ready to jog back with us and to his own Christmas Eve supper. How do you do, sir?"
Source: Gutenberg

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature