A DAY AND A NIGHT IN WIMBLEDON CAMP
... A DA Y' AND A NIGHT IN WIMBLEDON CAMP THE Reveille sounds at half-past six; and the first time I was roused by its cheery music, I struggled out of my blankets and took a peep out of doors. A pleasant breeze was blowing from the misty blue hills in the distance, and the sun shone laughingly on every. thing. One or two sprightly beings who, like myself, had not pretended that they didn't hear ...