Coningsby Dawson,
The Test of Scarlet: A Romance of Reality
“ We have a race-horse in our battery which the Major uses as his charger—a dainty, fine-boned aristocrat of a fellow, red and lean as a rusty sword. When our little Major rides him, leading his battery down the long white roads of France, strangers halt to gaze at the almost childish figure with the short bowed legs, wondering how he ever contrived to climb up so high. ”
