Publisher's Synopsis
Once upon a time there came a soldier marching along the road, kicking up a little cloud of dust at each step--as strapping and merry and bright-eyed a fellow as you would wish to see on a summer day. Tramp! tramp! tramp! he marched, whistling as he jogged along, though he carried a heavy musket over his shoulder and though the sun shone hot and strong and there was never a tree in sight to give him a bit of shelter. At last he came in sight of the King's Town and to a great field of stocks and stones, and there sat a little old man as withered and brown as a dead leaf, and clad all in scarlet from head to foot.
