“Whoi, zur, it wos Bill Adams and the Duke of Wellington as won the Battle of Worterloo !" Here was news, indeed, to hear for the first time in an obscure little village in Kent. And this is what I complain about, that all our history books at school, and historical literature in the broader arena of the world, place before us the-until now-undisputed fact that the Duke of Wellington won that battle, and had never given poor old Bill Adams a chance of a "show." I very humbly apologized to the landlord for my ignorance, and said that I should be only too happy to gain any information about so important an historical event in the history of the country. "Well, zur, you're in luck's way; th’old gentleman's in the taproom, jest agoin' to tell the boys all about it. 'Ee's jest told 'em what 'ee did in the Peninsoolar; 'ee gave 'em snuff there; but that's nothing to what 'ee did at Worterloo. Please go in, zur, and 'ear it; it'll supprize yer." Well, I went in, and heard the old gentleman's yarn, and it certainly did surprize me. Mr. William Adams, after surveying me with a semi-military critical eye, cleared his throat with a loud "Ahem" or two, and began his tale. "Well, yer see, boys, it wos like this 'ere at Worterloo: There wos me and the Dook and the rest on us a standin' there with our staff. The Dook ony got about a 'undered men awailable, and when 'ee puts up 'is hopera glass 'ee see Bonyparty a comin' over the 'ill with about four 'undered thousan' men-picked men they wos, most on 'em. Well, the Dook 'ee didn't like the looks on it at all; so 'ee turns round to Sir Garnet Wolseley and 'ee sez, 'Garnet,' sez 'ee, ''ere's a tough job as we got cut out. Who's a-goin' to take this 'eer job on?' "Not me,' sez Sir Garnet, 'but it's all right, guv'nor,' 'ee sez, "'ere's Nelson a-comin' up.' "Well, just then Nelson comes a-gallopin' up on 'is white 'orse. He git off, a-salutin' me and the Dook and the rest on us, and astickin' 'is wooden leg in the sand-yer know, boys, Nelson had a wooden leg, wot 'ee lost at-at-let's see-ah! Sringapatam. The Dook 'ee turn to 'im and 'ee sez, "'Oratio, I'm in a fix, I've ony got about a 'undered and fifty men awailable, and 'ere's Bonyparty a-comin' over the 'ill with seven 'undered and twenty-eight thousan' men-picked men, most on 'em. Can you take the job on?' 66 'No,' sez Nelson, ''tain't fair to arst me. sez 'ee. 'Ain't Garnet a-goin' to do it?' 66 'No,' sez the Dook, 'Garnet won't touch it.' "Wot about yerself, guv'nor?' Nelson sez. Tain't in my line,' 66 'No,' sez the Dook, 'it's amost too much for me.' 'Well, then,' sez Nelson, 'there's only one man as I knows on wot can take this 'ere job on.' ""Who's that?' sez the Dook. 66 'Why, Bill Adams,' sez Nelson. "Well, o' course,' sez the Dook, must a-bin not to a-thought o' Bill! for the job!' and the Dook 'ee whistles me up. 'why, wot a hold juggins I Course, Bill's the werry man "I was jest down in the canteen a-havin' a-half a cup o' tea, and I goes up and I sez, 'Well, Nosey, wot's up; wot is it?' I mostly called 'im Nosey; we wos werry familiar, we wos, them times. "Well,' 'ee sez, 'Bill, I won't deceive yer; I'm in a bit of an 'ole. I've only got about a 'undered and fifty men awailable, and 'ere's Bonyparty a-comin' over the 'ill with a million o' menpicked men, most on 'em. Can you take the job on?' "Well, Harthur,' I sez, 'I think I can pull yer through. How mony men wos yer thinkin' o' givin' me?' 66 'Well,' he sez, 'take wot yer want, William.' Well, I takes about a 'undered on 'em. I knowed jest wot they could do; and we goes a-marchin' up the 'ill. "Jest as we gets to the top, and we wos a-gettin' ready to wipe 'em out, I looks round the corner, and I see Bonyparty and Napoleon and Blucher a-hidin' behind a tree, "Napoleon and Bonyparty wos a larfin' at our little lot; but hold Blucher 'ee looks round the other side the tree, and when 'ee see me, 'ee turns white as a sheet. Then 'ee sez to Bonyparty and Napoleon, 'You're a-larfin' at 'em, gentlemen, ain't yer, but,' sez 'ee, 'do yer see who's a-leadin' these 'ere men?' "No,' sez Bonyparty, 'can't say as I knows 'im. Who is it?' ""Well,' sez Blucher, 'doan't yer go and do nothin' rash. That's Bill Adams! !' "What! !' sez Bonyparty, 'is that Bill a-leadin' on 'em?' "It is,' sez Blucher. "Why, good grashus,' sez Bony, 'so it is. It's old Bill Adams, wot gave me such pepper at Balaclava.' "Then 'ee turns round to 'is army, and 'ee shouts out: 66 'Right about turn; there won't be no fight. Get off the grass, if yer doan't all want to be eat up. 'Ere's Bill Adams a-comin'!' "Well, that's the way me and the Dook of Wellington won the Battle of Worterloo, boys." THE RULING PASSION BY WILLIAM H. SIVITER She had never mailed a letter before, and so she approached the stamp clerk's window with the same air that she would enter a dry-goods store. "I would like to look at some stamps, please." "What denomination do you want?" "Denomination ?" "Yes. Is it for a letter or a newspaper?" "Oh, I want to send a letter to my Uncle John; he's just moved to "Then you need a two-cent stamp," said the clerk offering her one of that value. "I hardly like that color!" "That is a two-cent stamp, madam. Please stand aside, and let the gentleman behind you come up." "But haven't you got them in any other color? I never did like that shade of red." "There is only one color." "That is strange. I'd think you'd keep them in different shades, so that there'd be some choice. You are sure you have none in a brighter red, or even in a different color-Nile green, or seal brown, or jubilee blue, for instance?" "You can put two one-cent stamps on your letter if you like." "Let me see them, please. Ah, that will do. I like that shade so much better. I'll take only one, if you please." "If it's for a letter you'll need two. These are one-cent stamps and letter postage is two cents per ounce." "Oh, I don't want to put two stamps on my letter; I don't think they will look well." "It requires two cents to carry a letter, madam, and you must either put a two-cent stamp on or two ones. It won't go without I must ask you to please hurry, for you are keeping a great many people away from the window.' "That's singular. I don't like the looks of two together. You are sure the other doesn't come in seal-brown, or“No, madam; no!" "Then I'll have to see if I can suit myself elsewhere.” And she departed. THE DUTCHMAN'S SERENADE ANONYMOUS Vake up, my schveet! Vake up, my lofe! Der shtreet dot's kinder dampy vet, O my lofe! my lofely lofe! Vell, anyvay, obe loose your ear, Oh, lady, vake! Get vake! Und hear der tale I'll tell; Oh, you vot's schleebin' sound ub dhere, I like you pooty vell! Your plack eyes dhem don't shine My schveet inbatience, lofe! I'm singing schveetly (dere, py Jinks! Oh, putiful, schveet maid! Oh, vill she ever voke? Der moon is mooning-(Jimminy! dhere Anoder shtring vent proke!) |