At any rate, those effeminate
people are not typical specimens of our steadfast friendly race. When
the folk in the colliery village hear that deadly thud and feel the
shudder of the earth which tell of disaster, Jack the hewer rushes to
the pit's mouth and joins the search-party. He knows that the gas may
grip him by the throat, and that the heavy current of dissolution may
creep through his veins; but his mate is down there in the workings,
and he must needs save him or die in the attempt. Greater love hath no
man than this. Ah, yes--the poor collier is indeed ready to lay down his
life for his friend! The fiery soldier, William Beresford, sees a
comrade in peril; a horde of infuriated savages are rushing up, and
there is only one pony to carry the two Englishmen. Beresford calls,
"Jump up behind me!" but the friend answers, "No; save yourself! I can
die, and I won't risk your life." Then the undignified but decidedly
gallant Beresford observes, "If you don't come, I'll punch your head!"
The pony canters heavily off; one stumble would mean death, but the
dauntless fighting man brings in his friend safely, though only by the
skin of his teeth. It is absolutely necessary for the saving of our
moral health that we should turn away from the dreary flippancy of an
effete society to such scenes as those.
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