True to his Colours: The Life that Wears BestWilson, Theodore P.
General
True to his Colours: The Life that Wears Best
Wilson, Theodore P.
Christian life -- Fiction; Temperance -- Fiction
About half-past three o'clock the Temperance and Band of Hope members
came flocking into the market place, Bradly being there to keep order,
with Foster and Barnes as his helpers. The last of these had charge of
a small basket, which he now and then glanced at with a grin of peculiar
satisfaction. Then the band mustered in full force--a genuine
temperance band, which never mingled its strains of harmony with streams
of alcohol. And oh, what a noble drum it boasted of!--could musical
ambition mount higher than to be permitted the privilege of belabouring
thundering sounds out of its parchment ends? Such clearly was the view
of two of the youngest members of the Band of Hope, who were gazing with
fond and awed admiration at the big drum itself and its highly favoured
bearer.
Shortly before four o'clock the vicar and his sister made their
appearance; and then, in a little while, the procession, with
appropriate banners flying, large and small, was on its way, Mr and
Miss Maltby marching at the head, and Thomas Bradly bringing up the
rear. In front of the procession was the band, which struck up a lively
air as all stepped forward, the drum being particularly emphatic at
every turning. Just at the outskirts of the town an open carriage
joined the long line: there were in it Mrs Maltby and her daughter, who
had returned from the seaside a few days before, and Jane Bradly, who
was not yet equal to much exertion.
On, on they marched, bright and happy, conscious that their cause was a
good one, and that their enjoyment would not be marred by any excesses.
The day was charming; there had been just enough rain during the
preceding night to lay the dust and freshen up the vegetation, while the
ardent rays of the sun were tempered from time to time by transient
screens of semi-transparent clouds. As the procession neared Cricketty
Hall, a cooling breeze from the west sprang up, just enough to ruffle
out the banners, as they were carried proudly aloft, without distressing
their bearers. Then the band, which had been silent for a while, put on
the full power of lungs and muscle in one prolonged outburst of
boisterous harmony; and just at five minutes to five the whole body of
the walkers, old and young, was drawn up in due order in front of the
ruined gateway.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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