Teddy's Button
Feuvre, Amy le, -1929
English
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Below is a summary of Teddy's Button
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TEDDY'S BUTTON
By AMY LE FEUVRE
Author of 'Probable Sons,' 'Eric's Good News,' etc.
1896
CHAPTER I
An Antagonist
He stood in the centre of a little crowd of village boys; his golden head
was bare in the blazing sun, but the crop of curls seemed thick enough to
protect him from its rays, and he was far too engrossed in his occupation
to heed any discomfort from the heat.
A slim delicate little lad, with a finely cut face, and blue eyes that by
turns would sparkle with animation, and then settle into a dreamy
wistfulness, with a deep far-away look in them. They were dancing and
flashing with excitement now, and his whole frame was quivering with
enthusiasm; with head thrown back, and tongue, hand, and foot all in
motion, he seemed to have his audience completely spell-bound, and they
listened with open eyes and mouths to his oration.
With one hand he was fingering a large brass button, which figured
conspicuously in the centre of his small waistcoat, and this button was
the subject of his theme.
'My father he rushed forward--"Come on, men; we'll save the old colours!"
And they shouted "Hurrah!" as they made after him. There were guns going,
and shells flying, and swords flashing and hacking away, and the enemy
poured on with fiery red faces and gnashing teeth! My father drew his
sword--and no one could stand against him, no one! He cut and he slashed,
and heads and arms and legs rolled off as quick as lightning, one after
the other. He got up to the colours, and with a shout he plunged his
sword right through the enemy's body that had stolen them! The enemy fell
stone dead. My father seized the colours and looked round. He was alone!
The other soldiers had been beaten back. But was he in a funk? No; he
gave a loud "Hurrah!" picked up his sword, and fought his way back, the
enemy hard after him. It was a race for life, and he ran backwards the
whole way; he wasn't going to turn his back to the enemy. He pressed on,
shouting "Hurrah!" till he got to his own side again, and then he reached
his colonel.
'"Captain dead, sir I've got the colours!" He saluted as he said it, and
then dropped dead himself at the colonel's feet, the blood gushing out
of his heart, and over his clothes, and over this button!'
The little orator paused as he sank his voice to a tragic whisper,
then raising it again, he added triumphantly, 'And thirty bullets and
six swords had gone through my father's body! That was something like
a soldier!'
'Oh, I say!' murmured a small sceptic from the crowd, 'it was twenty
bullets last time; make it fifty, Teddy!'
'And that's the story of my button,' pursued the boy, ignoring with scorn
this last remark.
'And did your father have only one button to his coat?'
The voice was a strange one, and the boys turned round to meet the
curious gaze of a sturdy little damsel, who had, unnoticed, joined the
group. She was not dressed as an ordinary village child, but in a little
rough serge sailor suit, with a large hat to match, set well back on a
quantity of loose dark hair. A rosy-cheeked square-set little figure she
was, and her brown eyes, fringed with long black lashes, looked straight
at Teddy with something of defiance and scorn in their glance.
Though at first a little taken aback, Teddy rose to the occasion.
'One button!' he said with emphasis; 'the coat was sent to mother with
only one button left on; and if you--' here he turned upon his questioner
with a little fierceness--'if you had been through such a bloody battle,
and killed so many men, you would have burst and lost _all_ your buttons,
and not had one left, like father!'
There was a round of applause at this, but the small maiden remained
undaunted.
'Is that a true story you told?' she demanded, with severity in her tone.
'Of course it's true,' was the indignant shout of all.
'Then I tell you, boy, I don't believe a word of it!' And with set
determined lips she turned on her heel and walked away, having sown seeds
of anger and resentment in more than one boyish breast.
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