The Man of Iron

ammunition and stores to come up from Delhi, took a hell of a time. Seven long weeks of broiling by day and freezing o' nights, while Tij Sinh and his thirty-five thousand Khalsas entrenched themselves, mounted their heavy artillery?made their bridge of boats, and encamped their cavalry up the river. But the day came?our day!?and I don't forget that foggy tenth of February while I'm breathing." Captain Breagh sucked at his pipe and reflectively pulled a whisker. And the silent voice went on: "We were with the Left Division under General Dick, and led the assault, while Gilbert and Smith feigned to attack on the enemy's left and center. And in that charge, ?when the General got his death-wound from a swivel- ball,?I was the second red-coat to cross the ditch, and scramble over the big mud rampart, and saber a Sikh gunner with his linstock in his hand! ..." Mrs. Breagh, chagrined at remaining so long the object of her husband's inattention, picked up his fallen newspaper and almost timidly laid it on his knee. And the child under the table kept as quiet as a mouse, almost . . . "Thank ye, my dear!" said the Captain, while the other Breagh went on: "And when the Treaty was signed and the rumpus all over?for the time!?because Dalhousie 's bungling brought the hornets about our ears again!?we marched from Lahore to Calcutta with Britain's victorious army?barring the force we 'd left with Lawrence at Mian Mir.'' The silence continuing, Mrs. Breagh drew her ...