Hunting The Lions

Hunting The Lions

by R.M. Ballantyne
     
 

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CHAPTER ONE.

BEGINS TO UNFOLD THE TALE OF THE LIONS BY DESCRIBING THE LION OF THE
TALE.

We trust, good reader, that it will not cause you a feeling of
disappointment to be told that the name of our hero is Brown--Tom Brown.
It is important at the beginning of any matter that those concerned
should clearly understand their position,… See more details below

Overview

CHAPTER ONE.

BEGINS TO UNFOLD THE TALE OF THE LIONS BY DESCRIBING THE LION OF THE
TALE.

We trust, good reader, that it will not cause you a feeling of
disappointment to be told that the name of our hero is Brown--Tom Brown.
It is important at the beginning of any matter that those concerned
should clearly understand their position, therefore we have thought fit,
even at the risk of throwing a wet blanket over you, to commence this
tale on one of the most romantic of subjects by stating--and now
repeating that our hero was a member of the large and (supposed to be)
unromantic family of "the Browns."

A word in passing about the romance of the family. Just because the
Brown family is large, it has some to be deemed unromantic. Every one
knows that two of the six green-grocers in the next street are Browns.
The fat sedate butcher round the corner is David Brown, and the milkman
is James Brown. The latter is a square-faced practical man, who is
looked up to as a species of oracle by all his friends. Half a dozen
drapers within a mile of you are named Brown, and all of them are shrewd
men of business, who have feathered their nests well, and stick to
business like burrs. You will certainly find that several of the
hardest-working clergymen, and one or more of the city missionaries, are
named Brown; and as to Doctor Browns, there is no end of them! But why
go further? The fact is patent to every unprejudiced person.

Now, instead of admitting that the commonness of the name of Brown
proves its owners to be unromantic, we hold that this is a distinct
evidence of the deep-seated romance of the family. In the first place,
it is probable that their multitudinosity is the result of romance,
which, as every one knows, has a tendency to cause men and women to fall
in love, and marry early in life. Brown is almost always a good husband
and a kind father. Indeed he is a good, steady-going man in all the
relations of life, and his name, in our mind at least, is generally
associated with troops of happy children who call him "daddy," and
regard him in the light of an elephantine playmate. And they do so with
good reason, for Brown is manly and thorough-going in whatever he
undertakes, whether it be the transaction of business or romping with
his children.

But, besides this, the multitudinosity of the Browns cuts in two
directions. If there are so many of them green-grocers, butchers, and
milkmen--who without sufficient reason are thought to be unromantic--it
will be found that they are equally numerous in other walks of life; and
wherever they walk they do so coolly, deliberately, good-humouredly, and
very practically. Look at the learned professions, for instance. What
a host of Browns are there. The engineers and contractors too, how they
swarm in their lists. If you want to erect a suspension bridge over the
British Channel, the only man who is likely to undertake the job for you
is Adam Brown, C.E., and Abel Brown will gladly provide the materials.
As to the army, here their name is legion; they compose an army of
themselves; and they are all enthusiasts--but quiet, steady-going, not
noisy or boastful enthusiasts. In fact, the romance of Brown consists
very much in his willingness to fling himself, heart and soul, into
whatever his hand finds to do. The man who led the storming party, and
achieved immortal glory by getting himself riddled to death with
bullets, was Lieutenant Brown--better known as Ned Brown by his brother
officers, who could not mention his name without choking for weeks after
his sad but so-called "glorious" fall. The other man who accomplished
the darling wish of his heart--to win the Victoria Cross--by attaching a
bag of gunpowder to the gate of the fortress and blowing it and himself
to atoms to small that no shred of him big enough to hang the Victoria
Cross upon was ever found, was Corporal Brown, and there was scarcely a
dry eye in the regiment when he went down.

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Product Details

ISBN-13:
2940013296541
Publisher:
SAP
Publication date:
10/13/2011
Sold by:
Barnes & Noble
Format:
NOOK Book
File size:
0 MB

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