Old
Borth--we had almost forgotten him, and that had been deep ingratitude
for he was not the least warm-hearted of our friends in Wales. His
master lived two miles away; but soon after our arrival, Borth had come
down from the hills to attach himself to our fortunes, and henceforth
became, as it were, our familiar, the pet of the regiment, like the goat
of the "23rd." He knew his position, and was a stickler for formalities;
he had a wag of the tail for every boy who wore the image of the
venerable schoolmaster upon his cap; but if he met him bare-headed, or,
by any chance, in an indistinctive head-gear, he would cut that boy dead,
were he never so much the same urchin from whose hand he had yesterday
eaten a cheese-cake. That was his official rebuke for the irregularity.
By day, Borth would bask in some sunny corner of our quarters; at night,
he has been known to venture on a nearer intimacy where doors were left
open. We found you once ourselves, Borth, curled up and asleep upon our
own bed. You woke up, shook yourself with a modest, but not startled
manner, and walked quietly away, like a gentleman.
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