On their way to where the band was preparing to play,
Captain Manley said a word or two to several of the
other officers, consequently there was quite a little
party standing watching the band when their leader
lifted his baton for the overture to begin.
There was nothing that Sam liked better than for the
big drum to commence, and with his head thrown well
back and an air of extreme importance, he lifted his
arm and brought it down with what should have been
a sounding blow upon the drum. To his astonishment
and to the surprise of all the band, no deep boom
was heard, only a low muffled sound. Mechanically
Sam raised his other arm and let it fall with a similar
result. Sam looked a picture of utter astonishment
and dismay, with his eyes opened to their fullest,
and he gave vent to a loud cry, which completed the
effect produced by his face, and set most of those
looking on, and even the band themselves, into a roar
of laughter. Sam now examined his sticks, they
appeared all right to the eye, but directly he felt
them his astonishment was turned into rage. They
were perfectly soft. Taking out his knife he cut
them open, and found that the balls were merely filled
with a wad of soft cotton, the necessary weight being
given by pieces of lead fastened round the end of
the stick inside the ball with waxed thread.
Sam was too enraged to say more than his usual exclamation
of astonishment, “Golly!” and he held
out his drumsticks to be examined with the face of
a black statue of surprise.
Even the band-master was obliged to laugh as he took
the sticks from Sam’s hand to examine them.
“These are not your sticks at all, Sam,”
he said, looking closely at them. “Here,
boy,” he called to Tom, who might have been detected
from the fact of his being the only person present
with a serious face, “run to the band-room and
see if you can find the sticks.”
In a few minutes Tom returned with the real drumsticks,
which, he said truly, he had found on the shelf where
they were usually kept. After that things went
on as usual; Sam played with a sulky fury. His
dignity was injured, and he declared over and over
again that if he could “find de rascal who did
it, by jingo, I pound him to squash!” and there
was no doubt from his look that he thoroughly meant
what he said. However, no inquiries could bring
to light the author of the trick.
CHAPTER V.
Overboard.
There were no lighter hearts than those of Tom and
Peter Scudamore on board the transport “Nancy,”
as, among the hearty cheers of the troops on board,
and the waving of hats and handkerchiefs from friends
who had come out in small boats to say good-bye for
the last time, she weighed anchor, and set sail in
company with some ten or twelve other transports,
and under convoy of two ships of war. It would
be difficult to imagine a prettier scene. The
guns fired, the bands of the various regiments played,
Copyrights
The Young Buglers from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
