divest himself of his short fur coat and, after dashing the snow from it
and his muskrat-faced cap, unbuckled his side-arms, and hung all up at
the head of his own particular cot.

Flashing across our retrospective mind-screens, as at times we dreamily
delve into the past, beloved faces come and go. Forever in the memory of
the writer, as his ideal conception of healthy, virile splendid Youth
personified, will stand the bronzed, debonair, clean-shaven young face of
George Redmond--or "Reddy," as he was more familiarly dubbed by his
comrades of L. Division.

Handsome his countenance could not have been termed--the features were
too strongly-marked and roughly-hewn. But it was an undeniably open,
attractive and honest one--the sort of face that instinctively invited
one's "Hail, fellow, well met!" trust at first sight. His hair was dark
auburn in colour, short and wavy, with a sort of golden tinge in it; his
forehead was broad and open, and below it were two uncommonly waggish
blue eyes. His habitual expression was a mixture of nonchalant good
humour and gay insouciance, but the slightly aquiline, prominent nose and
the set of the square aggressive jaw belied in a measure the humourous
curl of the lips.

Those who knew his disposition well were fully aware how swiftly the
mocking smile could vanish from that indolent young face on occasion--how
unpleasantly those wide blue orbs could contract beneath scowling brows
into mere pin-points of steel and ice. Slightly above middle height,
well-set-up and strongly, though not heavily made, the lines of his
clean-built figure suggested the embodiment of grace, strength and
activity.