STEAD IN POSSESSION.
"At night returning, every labour sped,
He sits him down, the monarch of a shed."
GOLDSMITH.
Another day made it certain that the garrison of Bristol had
surrendered to the besiegers. A few shots were heard, but they were
only fired in rejoicing by the Royalists, and while Steadfast was
studying his barley field, already silvered over by its long beards,
and wondering how soon it would be ripe, and how he should get it cut
and stacked, his name was shouted out, and he saw Tom Oates and all
the rest of the boys scampering down the lane.
"Come along, Stead Kenton, come on and see, the Parliament soldiers
come out and go by."
Poor Steadfast had not much heart for watching soldiers, but it
struck him that he might see or hear something of Jephthah, so he
came with the other boys to the bank, where from behind a hedge they
could look down at the ranks of soldiers as they marched along, five
abreast, the road was not wide enough to hold more.
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