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Ebook has 1961 lines and 85733 words, and 40 pages

CHILD OF THE REGIMENT.

NEW YORK: P. J. COZANS, PUBLISHER, 107 NASSAU STREET, CORNER OF ANN.

LITTLE MARY.

Not many years ago a terrible battle was fought between the soldiers of Napoleon Bonaparte and the Austrians, at a small village in Italy. The Austrians were severely beaten, and the houses of the village were set on fire by the cannon, and all burned or torn down; the poor villagers were driven from their homes, and thousands of soldiers were killed or wounded, and left to die on the ground; the Austrians tried to get away from the French, but the furious soldiers of Napoleon pursued them with their bayonets, or trampled them to death with their horses.

The old Guard then took little Mary to live with him, and she learned to sew and play with her doll, which he had bought for her; and delighted in filling his canteen with water, and polishing his epaulettes; she would also sing and dance with him; which pleased him very much, for he loved no body but her; as he was a great many miles from his home, and had marched all the way with the army.

At other times, when the old Guard was not with her, she amused herself by rambling through the fields gathering wild flowers, or climbing the mountains to see the army in the valley below.

At length the regiment was ordered home, and took little Mary with them. She suffered many hardships in travelling so great a journey, for sometimes she had to walk a long way, or ride on a baggage waggon, which was no better than a cart; and in crossing the Alps, they frequently slept on the cold ground, without any fire or even their suppers; and as the mountains were covered with snow and ice, poor little Mary passed many bitter nights and tedious days; and often thought of the peaceful and happy home she had lost for ever; but the old Guard was kind to her, and often carried her on his back or in his arms a great way: and after many lone weeks, during which time a great number of the poor soldiers died from suffering and toil, they arrived in France.

During Mary's stay in the town she became acquainted with a school-boy named Rodolph, who was in the same class with her. He was a sprightly, daring little fellow, and on one occasion threw himself between Mary and a mad ox that was rushing furiously along the street, and would probably have gored her to death but for the courage of Rodolph, who succeeded in rescuing her. From this time Mary became much attached to him, and they frequently took many pleasant rambles together, and the Old Guard called him a little corporal, and said he might one day be an officer.

Rodolph was the son of a poor widow, who had lost her husband in battle, and was in consequence reduced in circumstances, and scarcely able to support herself and send him to school; but more misfortunes came upon them, and they were at a loss what to do to save themselves from the poor-house. Rodolph was proud, and could not bear the thought of poverty and want, and was determined to do something to relieve the distress of his mother.

One day, while occupied with these thoughts, the fife and drum of a recruiting party met his ears, and as a large sum of money was offered to those who would join the army, and a military life he thought would be the most likely to suit him, he stepped forward to the ranks, took his gun, held up his head, and became a soldier in a minute.

Rodolph rushed home to present the money to his mother, who was almost distracted when she heard what he had done; as the regiment he had joined was ordered into immediate service, and he would soon be in all the hardships and horrors of war, from which she never expected he would return.

War is a horrible thing, and Rodolph before long was seen upon the field of victory; here he behaved so bravely that he was made a corporal, and afterwards a sergeant; and at another hard fought battle attracted the notice of his officer, and was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant.

But good fortune was in store for the young soldier, in a way that he would never have thought of; it happened that the wife of the colonel of the regiment to which Rodolph belonged, who had followed her husband to the field of battle, was surprised one day while alone, by two stragglers from the enemy who were proceeding to rob and perhaps murder her; when very fortunately Rodolph and another soldier who happened near the spot, and drawing their swords, attacked the robbers boldly; Rodolph's comrade however received a severe wound, and he was therefore left alone to defend himself and the lady against the ruffians; but Rodolph was fearless and fought desperately; he wounded the two villains, and conveyed the lady in safety to the tent of the officer.

The colonel scarcely knew how to show his gratitude; he gave Rodolph a large sum of money which he immediately sent home to his mother, and gave him also the command of a company of soldiers, after raising him to the rank of captain.

How happy was Rodolph when he was thus raised from a common soldier and many hardships, to independence and honour, notwithstanding all the dangers and sufferings he had encountered. Another officer was, however, very much displeased with the good fortune which had attended one whom he considered to be so much below him, and took every opportunity to insult and injure him. Rodolph bore this for some time with great patience, but at last the gentleman became so ugly and troubled him so much, that he could not bear it any longer; and the consequence was, though he knew it was very wrong, that he was forced to fight a duel, or else be looked upon as a coward by the rest of his companions in arms.

They at length met to fight, and Rodolph not wishing to harm his enemy, fired his pistol in the air, but the other taking advantage of Rodolph, severely wounded him. It was sometime before Rodolph recovered, but he did at last, and by earnestly entreating the officers to save the man who had thus acted treacherously towards him, he escaped a severe punishment which he otherwise would have met with. The noble conduct of Rodolph filled him with gratitude; he asked his forgiveness, which was instantly granted, and they became the best of friends.

After the war was over, the army returned to France, and great was the joy of Rodolph at the thought of once more beholding his mother, and to think he had now the means of rendering her comfortable for life. On entering the town he flew to the home of his parent, for he had been away a long while; and he was so altered with his splendid uniform, bright sword and epaulettes, that his mother scarcely knew him; but her joy at once more seeing him, knew no bounds.

Rodolph had been home but a short time, when the thoughts of his little companion would not let him remain long without trying to see her. He repaired immediately to the school, but all were strange faces, and nobody seemed to know him or little Mary either. He next visited the camp, but found the regiment had gone back to Italy a long time since, and Mary of course was with them. Poor Rodolph returned, with bitter disappointment, and determined to join the army again, and die on the field of battle. With this resolution, after taking an affectionate leave of his mother, he returned to tent, and was soon again amid the roar of cannon and the clash of arms; for Rodolph had been so long surrounded by danger and the busy scenes of a soldier's life, that the peaceful home of his boyhood seemed wearisome to him.

We now return to little Mary, who was at school, making friends of every one she became acquainted with, and carefully studying her lessons, and most always at the head of her class. On entering the room one morning, and looking round, she saw that Rodolph was not there. He staid away the next day, and the next; when Mary heard he had been seen in company with some recruiting soldiers, and she trembled for fear he had gone with them. She immediately hastened to the camp, and almost the first thing she saw was Rodolph, with his musket shouldered, and the perspiration streaming down his cheeks, while the rough, harsh voice of an old corporal ordered him instantly to his quarters.

Mary waved her hand to him, but he did not see her. The tears rolled down from her eyes, as she turned from him--for she knew the hardships he would have to suffer--and hurrying home, threw herself in the arms of the Old Guard, and wept as though she had lost her only friend. The next day she heard of his departure, and went to her studies, with the hope that he might return and spend some happy hours with her once more.

After the regiment had stayed a long-time in France, it returned to Italy again; and coming to a beautiful village, the Old Guard told Mary it was the place where the battle was fought, and showed her the place where he found her. Mary could not remember the spot nor any thing else which she saw, for it was a long while ago, and she was a very little girl at that time. The houses which had been burned down were all built up again, and the little boys and girls were all playing about as though nothing had ever happened. On the arrival of the soldiers, they all ran to look at the Guards and hear the drums.

It soon became known that a young lady was with the regiment, and the story of her and the Old Guard was told to almost every one, and that she once lived in that beautiful village, and was found on the battle-field and carried off by the French soldiers. It was not long before the story of little Mary was told to a lady, who lived in a beautiful mansion or villa near the quarters of the regiment. Her husband, who was an officer, was killed in battle, and her little child lost in the crowd of people and soldiers who were trying to save themselves, on that terrible day the French soldiers came to fight the Austrians. The dead body of her husband was found, but nothing was ever known of the little child. The more she thought of the story of Mary the more she thought of her own little girl; and ordering her carriage directed it to be driven to the camp; where she found the tent of the Old Guard, and inquired for little Mary. When the lady saw her she was surprised, to see such a beautiful girl with the soldiers--for Mary was now a young lady, and had been many years with the regiment. She asked the Old Guard many questions concerning the battle; and heard how she was found on the field, surrounded by cannons, and horses, and killed and wounded soldiers; that she was crying bitterly, and sat by the side of a dead officer. The lady heard the Old Guard, and wept while he was telling the story, for she began to think that Mary was her long lost little girl. But when the Old Guard brought the dress, and a necklace and locket which she had on her neck, all of which he had carefully kept, and showed them to the lady, she cried for joy, and clasped Mary in her arms; for it was indeed her little Mary; and she kissed her over and over again. The dress was the same she had worn on the morning of the battle, and the necklace was a present from her papa, the officer who was killed; and the letters on it were for her name, which was Mary St. Clair. The Old Guard was surprised and delighted to know that little Mary was an officer's daughter, and that her parents were so rich and great; but the tears came in the old soldier's eyes when he thought she must leave him; and Mary could not bear the thought of parting with him forever. But Mrs. St. Clair, Mary's mother, was determined they should not be separated, when she heard how kind the Old Guard had been to her; and, after procuring his discharge, invited him to live with them. The party at length set out for the villa, and the soldiers of the Guards took leave of her with tears in their eyes, and rushed from the ranks to kiss her for the last time.

Mary was delighted with her ride, but more pleased with her beautiful home, and the splendid apartments, and the costly furniture. Mary was immediately introduced to many young ladies and gentlemen, and soon became one of the liveliest and most beautiful women in Italy. The Old Guard dressed himself in his best uniform, which he would never exchange for any other dress: for although Mrs. St. Clair wanted to have him dress like a gentleman, he always refused, saying he had always lived and was determined to die a soldier. Not long after this, a great Ball was given by some of the nobility, and all the officers of the army, far and near, were invited. The assembly was brilliant, and imposing; the bright uniforms and gay dresses glittered by the light of chandeliers, and music and festivity seemed to delight them all. As Mary was leaning on the arm of the Old Guard, she noticed a young captain of infantry continually gazing on her, whose face appeared familiar. He stepped forward and mentioned her name, and in an instant they were in each other's arms; it was Rodolph. The wars were ended, and in travelling about the country, he had accidentally received an invitation. As soon as Mary entered the room, he remembered her, and after making himself known, enjoyed her society for the evening. The Old Guard died at the villa, and Mary and Rodolph were married, and lived at the village the rest of their lives.

PHILIP J. COZANS, PUBLISHER AND BOOKSELLER, MANUFACTURER AND IMPORTER OF VALENTINES, No. 107 Nassau Street, N. Y.

NEW ILLUMINATED TOYS.

JUST PUBLISHED, A NEW 8vo. EDITION, CONSISTING OF

LITTLE MARY, OR THE CHILD OF THE REGIMENT. THE FAIRY AND THE CHILDREN. THE LITTLE SOLDIER OF THE REVOLUTION. THE AMERICAN GENERAL TOM THUMB. EIGHT PRETTY STORIES FOR CHILDREN. JACK THE GIANT KILLER.

ALSO, A 12 mo. EDITION; ILLUSTRATED, COLOURED COVERS, CONSISTING OF

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Containing the above, bound together--Cover illuminated with Gold and Colours.

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Transcriber's Note

Matthew oli itse hyvin ihmeiss??n, mutta h?nell? oli todellakin hauskaa. Kuten useat hiljaiset olennot h?n piti puheliaista ihmisist?, kun he itse huolehtivat pakinoimisestaan eiv?tk? vaatineet h?nt?kin puolestaan ottamaan osaa keskusteluun. Mutta h?n ei koskaan ollut odottanut mit??n huvia pienen tyt?n seurasta. Naiset olivat kyll?kin ik?vi? joka suhteessa, mutta pikku tyt?t olivat pahempia. H?n inhosi heid?n tapaansa arasti luikkia h?nen ohitseen, salavihkaa vilkuillen h?neen, ik??nkuin he odottaisivat h?nen nielaisevan heid?t yhten? suupalana, jos he uskaltaisivat sanoa sanankin.

Sellainen oli hyvinkasvatetun avonlealaistyt?n tyyppi. Mutta t?m? kesakkoinen, kirkassilm?inen ihmeotus oli jotain aivan muuta, ja vaikka Matthew'n hitaammalle ?lylle oli sangen vaikeata seurata tyt?n ajatusten rohkeita hypp?yksi?, tunsi h?n mielest??n "hieman piristyneens?" h?nen l?rp?ttelyst??n. H?n sanoi senvuoksi, yksikantaan kuten ainakin:

-- Puhu sin? vain niin paljon kuin tahdot. Minua se ei haittaa.

-- Kuinka yst?v?llist?! Minulla on sellainen tunne, ett? te ja min? tulemme viihtym??n niin hyvin yhdess?. On niin hauskaa kun saa puhua silloin kun haluttaa, eik? tarvitse alituisesti kuulla, ett? lapsia kelpaa katsella, mutta ei kuunnella. Sen he ovat sanoneet minulle varmaankin miljoonan kertaa. Ja sitten ihmiset nauravat minulle siksi, ett? heid?n mielest??n min? olen niin suurisanainen. Mutta jos mieless? liikkuu suuria ajatuksia, niin on kai my?skin pakotettu k?ytt?m??n suuria sanoja niit? ilmi tuodakseen -- eik? niin?

-- Eik?p? tuo niin liene... sanoi Matthew.

-- Rouva Spencer sanoi, ett? minun kieleni t?ytyy olla keskelt? kiinni -- muuten se ei voisi liikkua niin kerke?sti, sanoi h?n. Mutta niin ei ole asianlaita, se on kiinni toisesta p??st?. Rouva Spencer sanoi, ett? teid?n talonne nimi on Vihervaara. Min? kyselin h?nelt? kaikkea mahdollista. H?n sanoi siell? kasvavan puita yltymp?ri. Puut -- ne ovat minun el?m?ni! Lastenkodin ymp?rist?ss? ei ole kerrassaan yht??n puuta, vain muutamia pieni? viheli?isi? raukkoja suuren sis??nk?yt?v?n ulkopuolella, valkoiseksi maalatut puuh?kit ymp?rill??n... Ne n?yttiv?t orpolapsilta. Ja minun mielest?ni ne olivat niin s??litt?vi?. Minulla oli tapana sanoa niille: "Voi teit? pikku raukkoja! Ajatelkaas, jos kasvaisitte ulkona suuressa suhisevassa mets?ss?, joka on t?ynn? toisia puita teid?n ymp?rill?nne, ja juurianne peitt?isi hienot sammal- ja vanamok?ynn?kset ja l?hell? olisi puro ja linnut laulaisivat oksillanne -- silloin te vasta kasvaisitte kovaa vauhtia! Mutta t??ll? te saatte seisoa nurkassa, ettek? ikin? p??se mihink??n... Tied?n kyll?, milt? teist? tuntuu, pikku puut." -- Olin ik?viss?ni, kun l?hdin niiden luota aamulla. Tuollaisiin asioihin kiintyy niin suuresti, eik? totta? -- Onko Vihervaaran l?heisyydess? puroa? Unohdin kysy? sit? rouva Spencerilt??

-- Kyll? toki -- heti talon takana.

-- Oi, todellakin!... Olen aina uneksinut saavani asua l?hell? puroa. Ah, kunpa unelmat vain v?h?n useammin toteutuisivat!... Nyt min? joka tapauksessa tunnen olevani hirve?n tyytyv?inen ja hyvill? mielin. Mutta kas, oikein onnellinen, sit? en koskaan tule olemaan, sill? -- niin, miksi te sanotte t?t? v?ri??

H?n heilautti toisen pitk?n, kiilt?v?n palmikkonsa laihan olkap??n yli ja piti sit? ylh??ll? Matthew'n silmien tasalla. Matthew ei ollut tottunut lausumaan ajatuksiaan naisten hiustenv?rist?, mutta t?ss? tapauksessa ei voinut olla ep?ilyst?.

-- Se on kai punainen, tied?nm?, sanoi h?n.

Tytt? antoi palmikon taas pudota -- huoaten niin syv?sti, se tuntui tulevan aina h?nen varpaistaan asti ja sis?lt?v?n monien vuosisatojen surut.

-- Niin, se on punainen, sanoi h?n alistuvasti. -- Nyt voitte ymm?rt??, miksi en min? voi olla oikein onnellinen. Ei kukaan, jolla on punainen tukka, voi olla onnellinen Muusta en min? niin kovin suuresti v?lit? -- kesakoista ja vihreist? silmist? ja laihuudestani. Kaiken tuon voin ajatuksissani j?tt?? pois. Voin kuvitella mieless?ni, ett? minulla on iho kuin helein ruusunlehti ja orvokinsiniset silm?t, jotka s?teilev?t kuin t?hdet. Mutta tukka -- kas sit? en voi ajatuksissani poistaa. Se pysyy paikallaan. Teen kuitenkin parastani. Sanon itselleni: h?nen kasvojansa kehyst?v?t loistavat hiukset, mustat kuin korpinsiipi... Mutta koko ajan tied?n, ett? se on inhoittavan punainen, ja se on minun suurin suruni. Se tulee kest?m??n l?pi koko el?m?ni. Er??st? kirjasta luin kerran tyt?st?, jolla oli syd?nsuru, mutta sen aiheuttajana ei ollut punainen tukka. H?nell? oli p?invastoin kullanhohtavat kiharat, jotka valuivat alas alabasteriotsalle. Mink?lainen on alabasteriotsa? En ole koskaan voinut saada sit? selville. Voitteko sanoa sen minulle?

-- Ei, pelk??n, ett? en voi, sanoi Matthew, joka alkoi joutua p??st? py?r?lle.

H?nell? oli sama tunne, mik? h?nell? oli ollut kerran viheri?ss? nuoruudessaan, kun h?n oli ollut mukana er??ll? huviretkell? ja muuan toinen poika oli narrannut h?net "jauhamaan suolaa".

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