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56 Chit-Chat by Puck.
A tremendous din shook the air. It was the
cannon that had opened fire upon the foe, and Swen
saw how the balls tracked their way with blood
everywhere. At this sight a cold shiver ran through
him; but he soon beheld nothing more, for the
smoke of the battle became thick as a fog. He
pressed ever forward, till at last he encountered
the enemy face to face. The bayonets crossed each
other, and the butt ends of the muskets fell like
clubs. The shriek of anguish from the wounded was
heart-rending to hear. Swen felt suddenly a smarting
cut in his breast, and a hoarse voice bawled out :
“One who plays at this game must take what
comes.”
All grew black before Swen’s eyes and he sank
down on the ground.
“Only let me get away from here!” he prayed
in anguish.
“No, now you must die,” continued the hoarse
voice. “Such is war. Only he who does not meddle
with it goes free.”
Swen saw a grinning face and a sword descending
like lightning. The blood ran cold in his veins, and
he wanted to cry out, but his voice forsook him.
The blade whizzed over his head, and at the same
moment Swen felt as if he were borne aloft, and
when he looked up he found himself seated on
Folly’s back, and Jack o’ Dreams riding on Jolly
by his side.
“Do you still wish to be a general?” Jack o°
Dreams asked him, smiling.
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