Leaves from a Field Note-Book by John Hartman Morgan
page 10 of 229 (04%)
page 10 of 229 (04%)
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trenches, Sahib?"
"Peace! It shall come in good time." They passed into another cabin reserved for native officers. A tall Sikh rose to a half-sitting posture and saluted. "What is your name?" "H---- Sing, Sahib." "There was a H---- Sing with me in '78," said the Field-Marshal meditatively. "With the Kuram Field Force. He was my orderly. He served me afterwards in Burmah and was promoted to subadar." The aquiline features of the Sikh relaxed, his eyes of lustrous jet gleamed. "Even so, Sahib, he was my father." "Good! he was a man. Be worthy of him. And you too are a subadar?" "Yea, Sahib, I have eaten the King's salt these twelve years." "That is well. Have you children?" "Yea, Sahib, God has been very good." "And your lady mother, is she alive?" "The Lord be praised, she liveth." |
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