Methodical idiots! Machine-like fools! The refined joy of planting shells in the midst of the other battery's formation would appear a little thing when the infantry came swooping out of the woods.
The face of a youthful rider, who was jerking his frantic horse with an abandon of temper he might display in a placid barnyard, was impressed deeply upon his mind.

He knew that he looked upon a man who would presently be dead.
Too, he felt a pity for the guns, standing, six good comrades, in a bold row.
He saw a brigade going to the relief of its pestered fellows.

He scrambled upon a wee hill and watched it sweeping finely, keeping formation in difficult places.

The blue of the line was crusted with steel color, and the brilliant flags projected.

Officers were shouting.
This sight also filled him with wonder.