There is a custom, we are told, amongst the hillsmen, that when a great
chieftain of their own falls in battle, his wrist is bound with a thread
either of red or green, the red denoting the highest rank. According to
custom, they stripped the dead, and threw their bodies over the
precipice. When their comrades came, they found their corpses stark and
gashed; but round both wrists of every British hero was twined the red
thread!

This anecdote serves its purpose of illustration perfectly well, but
considered as a separate story it is somewhat too explanatory in diction,
and too condensed in form. Just as the long story is analysed for
reduction of given details, so this must be analysed,--to find the details
implied. We have to read into it again all that has been left between the
lines.

Moreover, the order must be slightly changed, if we are to end with the
proper "snap," the final sting of surprise and admiration given by the
point of the story; the point must be prepared for. The purpose of the
original is equally well served by the explanation at the end, but we must
never forget that the place for the climax, or effective point in a story
told, is the last thing said. That is what makes a story "go off" well.

Imagining vividly the situation suggested, and keeping the logical
sequence of facts in mind, shall we not find the story telling itself to
boys and girls in somewhat this form?


THE RED THREAD OF COURAGE[1]

[Footnote 1: See also _The Red Thread of Honour_, by Sir Francis Doyle, in