(hic) Paradise Lost!"

And, mixed with it, came again out of the silence of the foothills the
coyote's faintly persistent mocking wail--its "ki-yip-yap" sounding
almost like "Bah! Yah! Baa!" . . . Some lines of an old quotation,
picked up he knew not where, wandered into his mind--

_Comedy, Tragedy, Laughter and Tears!
Thou'rt rolled as one in the Dust of Years_!

With a sigh he turned to his own cot and began to unpack and arrange his
kit; in regulation fashion, and with such small faddy fixings customary
to men inured to barrack life. Thus engaged the time passed rapidly.
Later in the day he assisted the sergeant in making out the detachment's
"monthly returns" and diary. This task accomplished, in the gathering
dusk he attended "Evening Stables." There were two saddle-horses beside
the previously-mentioned team. A splendid upstanding pair, George
thought them. He was good with horses; possessing the faculty of
handling them that springs only from a patient, kindly, instinctive love
of animals.

"Nay! I dhrive mostly," Slavin was telling him, "buckboard an' team's
away handier for a man av weight like meself. Eyah!" he sighed, "tho'
time was whin I cud throw a leg over wid th' best av thim. Yorke--he
gen'rally rides th' black, Parson, so ye'll take th' sorrel, Fox, for yeh
pathrols. He's a good stayer, an' fast. Ye'll want tu watch him at
mounthin' tho'--he's not a mane harse, but he has a quare thrick av
turnin' sharp tu th' 'off'--just as ye go tu shwing up into th' saddle.
Many's th' man he's whiraroo'd round wid wan fut in th' stirrup an' left
pickin' up dollars off th' bald-headed.' Well! let's tu supper."