In a few minutes he had reached the General, and thrown himself from his saddle.

It was a mere boy—­one of the very youngest of soldiers!

“Sire!” he cried, “we’ve taken the town!  Our men are in the market-place, and you can ride there now!  And see!—­upon the walls—­our flag!”

The eyes of the General flashed with joy and triumph.  Here was glorious news!

As he turned to the boy to thank him for the more than welcome tidings that he brought, he noticed that the lad was pale and trembling, and that as he stood holding by the mane of his horse, his left hand was pressed upon his chest, and the blood was slowly trickling between his fingers.

“My boy!” said he, tenderly, as he fixed his eyes upon the stripling, “you’re wounded!”

“No, sire!” cried the boy, his pale face flushing as his General thus addressed him, and the shouts of victory filled his ears, “I am not wounded; I am killed!” And down at his General’s feet he fell and died.

There have been brave men upon the battle-field ever since the world began, but there never was a truer soldier’s heart than that which kept this boy alive until he had borne to his General the glorious news of the battle won.

A LIVELY WAY TO RING A BELL.

[Illustration]

Here are two young men who look very much as if they were trying to break their necks; but in reality they have no such desire.

They are simply ringing that great bell, and riding backward and forward on it as it swings through the air.

These young fellows are Spaniards, and in many churches in their country it is considered a fine thing to go up into the belfry of a church or cathedral, and, when the regular bell-ringers are tired, to jump on the great bells and swing away as hard as they can make them go.  No matter about any particular peal or style of ringing.

The faster and the more furiously they swing, the jollier the ride, and the greater the racket.  Sometimes in a cathedral there are twenty bells, all going at once, with a couple of mad chaps riding on each one of them.  It is, doubtless, a very pleasant amusement, after one gets used to it, but it is a wonder that some of those young men are not shot off into the air, when the great bell gets to swinging as fast and as far as it can go.

But although they hold on as tightly as if they were riding a wild young colt, they are simply foolhardy.  No man or boy has a right to risk his life and limbs in such reckless feats.

There is no probability, however, of the sport ever being introduced into this country.

Even if there were no danger in it, such a clatter and banging as is heard in a Spanish belfry, when the young men are swinging on the bells, would never be allowed in our churches.  The Spaniards may like such a noise and hubbub, but they like a great many things which would not suit us.