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ONE:Frederick had not grown old gracefully. He was domineering, soured, and irritable, finding fault with every body and every thing. As his troops were getting into camp at Jaromirtz on the 8th of July, the king, weary with riding, threw himself upon the ground for a little rest, his adjutants being near him. A young officer was riding by. Frederick beckoned to him, and wrote, with his pencil, an order of not the slightest importance, and said to the officer, aloud, in the hearing of all, purposely to wound their feelings,��Fearful tugging, swagging, and swaying is conceivable in this Sterbohol problem! And, after long scanning, I rather judge that it was in the wake of that first repulse that the veteran Schwerin himself got his death. No one times it for us; but the fact is unforgetable; and in the dim whirl of sequences dimly places itself there. Very certain it is ��at sight of his own regiment in retreat,�� Field-marshal Schwerin seized the colors, as did other generals, who are not named, that day. Seizes the colors, fiery old man: ��This way, my sons!�� and rides ahead along the straight dam again; his ��sons�� all turning, and with hot repentance following. ��On, my children, this way!�� Five bits of grape-shot, deadly each of them, at once hit the old man; dead he sinks there on his flag; and will never fight more.