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The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 69

Tom Walton's Dream

Tom Walton's Dream.

As I have related one dream in connection with the old "Die Hards," I may here refer to another, the hero of which, so far as I know, is still in the flesh in this colony.

In the early part of the sixth decade of the present progressive nineteenth century, 'Tom Walton' resided in one of the shires of dear old England, and was sent one day by his father to a town some miles away to receive some money—a pretty large sum. Tom was endowed with a fair share of life, and was a very large-hearted young fellow, and when he got possession of the money he felt himself to be a person of no mean importance, and acted accordingly, and before starting for home he had a leetle too much stimulant. On his way home, having to walk, he was struck with a desire to lie down and rest his weary head. He left the road and made for the friendly shelter of a haystack; but before settling down he took the precaution to hide his father's money, as he thought it possible that others might be tempted to the same spot, and seeing him, they might be inquisitive enough, without a desire to disturb him, to see how he fared financially for the road. So Tom put the money in a secure place somewhere about the fence, near a post, and he was soon in the land of dreams.

When he awoke next morning the sun was well up, he felt his pockets, but, alas, there was nothing there. He had forgotten all about hiding the money, and concluded that someone had been taking unwarrantable liberty.

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"Well," said Tom, "I can never face the governor without it."

So he resolved to do what thousands of young fellows had done before him, take the Queen's shilling, which he did and ere long found himself over in Kilkenny, from where he wrote home to allay any feeling of anxiety which must have existed there.

Tom got on very well with his drill. He was one of that stamp of young fellows whom no one could dislike. He was soon dismissed from recruits' drill, and looking forward to foreign service.

One night he had a dream, when the whole scene of the haystack, and the spot where he had planted the money, came most vividly to his mind. In the morning he related the circumstance to his Color Sergeant, and asked him to procure him a short furlough to go home.

This was soon done, and off Tom trips to England, and made straight for the spot, picked up the money, and was soon home and everything explained.

Then his parents were anxious to purchase Tom's discharge, but this he would not consent to, as he had taken a fancy to the army. The "Die Hards" shortly left for Corfu, then on to the Crimea; endured the hardships of the campaign, and kept company with the regiment to this colony. Here he completed his time, then took his discharge, and afterwards joined the colonial force, and was present and got wounded when the gallant Yon Tempsky and other good officers met their doom. Tom recovered from his wound, though a dangerous one, and I trust is yet hale and hearty. If a good, jolly temper is any way conducive to long life, Tom, barring accidents, ought to live to a good old age.