But though
a SPRACK lad, and fond of pleasure and its haunts, Harry
Wakefield was steady, and not the cautious Robin Oig M'Combich
himself was more attentive to the main chance. His holidays were
holidays indeed; but his days of work were dedicated to steady
and persevering labour. In countenance and temper, Wakefield was
the model of Old England's merry yeomen, whose clothyard shafts,
in so many hundred battles, asserted her superiority over the
nations, and whose good sabres, in our own time, are her cheapest
and most assured defence. His mirth was readily excited; for,
strong in limb and constitution, and fortunate in circumstances,
he was disposed to be pleased with every thing about him, and
such difficulties as he might occasionally encounter were, to a
man of his energy, rather matter of amusement than serious
annoyance. With all the merits of a sanguine temper, our young
English drover was not without his defects. He was irascible,
sometimes to the verge of being quarrelsome; and perhaps not the
less inclined to bring his disputes to a pugilistic decision,
because he found few antagonists able to stand up to him in the
boxing ring.
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