The Hidden Children by Robert William Chambers Chapter 2 Page 35

Under his leather helmet I saw that my dragoon was but a child of fifteen — scarce strong enough to swing the heavy sabre at his pommel or manage the sawed-off musket which he bore, the butt resting wearily on his thigh. And it made me sober indeed to see to what a pass our country had come, that we enlisted boys and were obliged to trust to their ignorance for our protection.

“It will rain before sundown,” he said, munching on his apple; “best seek shelter, sir. When it comes it will come hard.”

“Where runs this road?” I asked.

“To Boutonville.”

“And what is Boutonville?”

“It’s where the Boutons live — a mile or two north, sir. They’re