The old man sneered, and read forward.  It was of that desperate fight; — The Muscovite stole thro’ the mist-wreaths that wrapped the chill Inkermann height, Where stood our silent outposts:  old England was in them that day!  O sharp worked his ruddy wrinkles, as if to the breath of the fray They moved!  He sat bareheaded:  his long hair over him slow Swung white as the silky bog-flowers in purple heath-hollows that grow.

     XV

And louder at Tom’s first person:  acute and in thunder the ‘I’ Invaded the ear with a whinny of triumph, that seem’d to defy The hosts of the world.  All heated, what wonder he little could brook To catch the sight of Mary’s demure puritanical look?  And still as he led the onslaught, his treacherous side-shots he sent At her who was fighting a battle as fierce, and who sat there unbent.

     XVI

’"We stood in line, and like hedgehogs the Russians rolled under us thick.  They frightened me there.”—­He’s no coward; for when, Miss, they came at the quick, The sight, he swears, was a breakfast.—­“My stomach felt tight:  in a glimpse I saw you snoring at home with the dear cuddled-up little imps.  And then like the winter brickfields at midnight, hot fire lengthened out.  Our fellows were just leashed bloodhounds:  no heart of the lot faced about.

     XVII

’"And only that grumbler, Bob Harris, remarked that we stood one to ten:  ‘Ye fool,’ says Mick Grady, ’just tell ’em they know to compliment men!’ And I sang out your old words:  ’If the opposite side isn’t God’s, Heigh! after you’ve counted a dozen, the pluckiest lads have the odds.’  Ping-ping flew the enemies’ pepper:  the Colonel roared, Forward, and we Went at them.  ’Twas first like a blanket:  and then a long plunge in the sea.

     XVIII

’"Well, now about me and the Frenchman:  it happened I can’t tell you how:  And, Grandfather, hear, if you love me, and put aside prejudice now”:  He never says “Grandfather”—­Tom don’t—­save it’s a serious thing.  “Well, there were some pits for the rifles, just dug on our French- leaning wing:  And backwards, and forwards, and backwards we went, and at last I was vexed, And swore I would never surrender a foot when the Russians charged next.

     XIX

’"I know that life’s worth keeping.”—­Ay, so it is, lad; so it is! — “But my life belongs to a woman.”—­Does that mean Her Majesty, Miss? — “These Russians came lumping and grinning:  they’re fierce at it, though they are blocks.  Our fellows were pretty well pumped, and looked sharp for the little French cocks.  Lord, didn’t we pray for their crowing! when over us, on the hill- top, Behold the first line of them skipping, like kangaroos seen on the hop.

     XX