you will find the ensign above
stairs," and he pointed to a broken ladder which led to some place above.

And there I found him--the boy soldier--in a kind of upper loft, so low
that I could touch with my hands the sooty rafters; the floor was of
rough boards, through the joints of which you could see the gleam of the
soldiers' fire, and occasionally discern their figures as they moved
about; in one corner was a camp bedstead, by the side of which hung the
child's sword, gorget, and sash; a deal table stood in the proximity of
the rusty grate, where smoked and smouldered a pile of black turf from
the bog--a deal table without a piece of baize to cover it, yet fraught
with things not devoid of interest: a Bible, given by a mother; the
Odyssey, the Greek Odyssey; a flute, with broad silver keys; crayons,
moreover, and water colours, and a sketch of a wild prospect near, which,
though but half finished, afforded ample proof of the excellence and
skill of the boyish hand now occupied upon it.

Ah! he was a sweet being, that boy soldier, a plant of early promise,
bidding fair to become in after time all that is great, good, and
admirable. I have read of a remarkable Welshman, of whom it was said,
when the grave closed over him, that he could frame a harp, and play it;
build a ship, and sail it; compose an ode, and set it to music. A brave
fellow that son of Wales--but I had once a brother who could do more and
better than this, but the grave has closed over him, as over the gallant
Welshman of yore; there are now but two that remember him--the one who
bore him, and the being who was nurtured at the same breast. He was
taken, and I was left! Truly, the ways of Providence are inscrutable.

"You seem to be very comfortable, John," said I, looking around the room
and at the various objects which I have described above: "you have a good
roof over your head, and have all your things about you."

"Yes, I am very comfortable, George, in many respects; I am, moreover,
independent, and feel myself a man for the first time in my
life--independent did I say?--that's not the word, I am something much
higher than that; here am I, not sixteen yet, a person in authority, like
the centurion in the book there, with twenty Englishmen under me, worth a
whole legion of his men, and that fine fellow Bagg to wait upon me, and
take my orders. Oh! these last six weeks have passed like hours of
heaven."

"But your time must frequently hang h