"Why, very good, sir!" Saying which the Corporal sat up, squared his
mighty shoulders, coughed, and began:
"It was when they Cuirassiers broke our square at Quatre-bras,
sir,--fine fellows those Cuirassiers! They rode into us, through us,
over us,--the square was tottering, and it was 'the colors--rally!'
Ah, sir! the colors means the life or death of a square at such times.
And just then, when horses was a-trampling us and the air full o'
the flash o' French steel, just then I see our colors dip and sway,
and down they went. But still it's 'the colors--rally!' and there's
no colors to rally to; and all the time the square is being cut to
pieces. But I, being nearest, caught up the colors in this here left
hand," here the Corporal raised his gleaming hook, "but a Cuirassier,
'e caught them too, and there's him at one end o' the staff and me
at t'other, pulling and hauling, and then--all at once he'd got 'em.
And because why? Because I hadn't got no left 'and to 'old with. But
I'd got my right, and in my right was 'Brown Bess' there," and the
Corporal pointed to the long musket in the corner. "My bayonet was
gone, and there weren't no time to reload, so--I used the butt.
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