The descent was continued, seeming to Saxe almost interminable.
“But it looks as if you could get to the top in an hour,” said Saxe.
Saxe Gotha responded to the greeting with a puppy gambol, and devoured the beef with gusto.
“You have something of the idea, but you are not quite right, Saxe,” replied Dale.
He was therefore an eye-witness of the campaigns in which Marshal Saxe overran Belgium.
He started off now through the snow, with Dale and Saxe following.
Marshal Saxe, unable to mount his horse, was carried along his lines in a litter.
Well, Saxe,” he said, “are you beginning to find out how high the mountains are?
Dale stood thinking for a minute or two, Saxe watching him eagerly.
We should be thinking of the ugly bit of work we have to do—eh, Saxe?