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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"White Lies"

"
"You will go to bed," said the old man, quietly; "that is where YOU'LL
go."
"I'll go to blazes sooner," yelled the young one.
The old man made a signal to his myrmidons, whom Marthe's cries had
brought around, and four stout fellows took hold of Edouard by the legs
and the left shoulder and carried him up-stairs raging and kicking; and
deposited him on a bed.
Presently he began to feel faint, and so more reasonable. They cut his
coat off, and put him in a loose wrapper, and after considerable delay
the surgeon came, and set his arm skilfully, and behold this ardent
spirit caged. He chafed and fretted sadly. Fortitude was not his forte.
It was two days after his accident. He was lying on his back, environed
by slops and cursing his evil fate, and fretting his soul out of its
fleshly prison, when suddenly he heard a cheerful trombone saying three
words to Marthe, then came a clink-clank, and Marthe ushered into the
sickroom the Commandant Raynal. The sick man raised himself in bed, with
great surprise and joy.
"O commandant! this is kind to come and see your poor officer in
purgatory.


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