The Daily state journal. [volume] (Alexandria, Va.) 1868-1874, 1871-04-22
Can you carry o challenge 2"

"Can you write It'll
"Im afraid dot"
''Then take it by my word of mouth.
That scoundrel there, Lieutenant Dibdo,
has insulted lady, and me, too. / must
have his blood. Follow him up, and meet
me at Gadsbys with his answer"
Full of self-importance at this first and
safe opportunity to stand upon what is
known as "tbe field of honor" Tiltock
kept the lieutenant in his eye, and took
him finally aside and demanded meeting
10 the name of Ute. The naval officer
answered that he had simply relieved a
lady from a drunken boy; but Tiltock, in
the dramatic way common to halcyon old
times, refused to accept either drunken"
or "boy" as terms appropriate to "the
code," and pressed for an answer. In five
minutes the naval officer replied, through
his naval companion, that having ascer-
tanned Mr. Ute to be gentleman's son,
and he as an United States officer not be-
ing able to decline challenge, the latter
was accepted. The weapons were to be
pistols, the place the usual ground at Bla-
densburg, and the time the afternoon of the
next day.
There was good deal of drinking and
Boosting at the hotels that night, Ute and
Tiltock telling everybody, as particular
secret, that there was to be can fab hon.
ah," otherwise "juel," at "Bladeusburg,
sab !" The gin-drinking, cock-fghting,
sporting element of the town was aroused,
and Ute and Tiltock were invited on all
sides to imbibe to the significant toast Of
"The Field" Very noisy, very insolent,
nuisances indeed, these two mere lads-the
offspring of vain and ignorant social Pc
riod of which some elements yet remain
borrowed the money to hire carriage, and
at midnight they set out with some asso-
ciates by the old, rutty, clay road for the
Maryland village of Bladeusburg. That
night they caroused until nature, despite
her revolt, put them to bed.
In the morning, with swollen and sal
low face, dry hair, unsteady hands, aching
eyes and dim vision, Robert Ute awoke to
the recollection of bis folly and his RASH
ness, and he realized the critical period
which he had provoked. His clerkship
lost, his self-pride poignant, his pockets
nearly empty, his respectable career ire
trievably terminated, his sweetheart in
suited, and his life in dangerl There was
no escape either from despair or fate. Til
took was strutting about below stairs
with drunken old doctor, mis-named a
surgeon, who deposited behind the bar a
rusty case of surgical instruments, and who
took deep potarton to the toast OF "l'he
fawchuns of waw." The Bladensburg
people were we'll aware of the occasion, and
the old tavern was surrounded by loafers
and gossips, many of whom we're boys who
had walked out from the city as we go to
prize-6ghts in our day.
To fill up the time dog fight and
chicken fight was improvsed by the enter
prising stable-boys in The back yard, on
the green slopes Of the running branch.
While Tiltock strutted out of town at
an imposing pace to examine "the field"
Robert Ute retired to his room, sought
with an emetic to relieve his stomach, and
then sat down to write some letters and an
epitaph. The paper was thin, and the pen
and ink matched it, but the drunken boys
eyes marred mere than all; for suddenly
the secret fountains of his lost youth were
touched as by the prick of his pen, and
the drops gushed out upon the two words
he had written
"Dear mother
Not his sweetheart, who was nothing to
him now, not his honor, which had been
only vain glory and deceit, not anything
but this earliest, everlasting faith which is
ours forever, whether we be steadfast or
60 astray: the tie of home, of childhood,
and Of our mothers prayer and kiss
this was the soft reproach which glided
between wasted youth and the "field of
valor" he had tempted. He wept. He
sobbed. He threw himself upon the bed,
and pressing his temples into the ragged
quilt, felt the panorama of childhood pass
across his mind like something cool, sorrow
full, and compassionate. The sickness she
had cured, the bad words she had taken
from his undutiful lips, the whipping she
had saved him from at the cost of her deceit,
the lie she had never told him, the tears
he had found her shedding upon her knees
when first he had been drinking, the money
he had never given her out of his salary |
but had spent with idlers, bis ruined soul |
which to that mothers thought was as
pure as baby's still, and watched by all |
The angels of God these were admoni- |
tons from the green meadows of childhood. |
Before was the barren field of honor. How
short Is the struggle betwixt youth and
selfishness, that sum of all diseases and
crimes; that selfshness out of which wars
arise and hell is habitated
A poor, overworked Christian negro. a
slave in the tavern, hearing the sobbipg of
Robert Ute, and aware that one of the
1uelists occupied that room, lifted the
atch, and Weakened the wretched boy from
MS remorse.
young moss" he said, "doan you fight
40 juels OH doan do it, for de Dressed
Lords sake It's muffin but pride and sin.
Yo's only pore, split boy, but you got
'oul, young mossl Doan you 20 git kilt
n dat ar bloody gully wha' so many gifts
,urt amoss to def u
Ute arose from the dream of home, and
licked the poor slave out of the room.
lie then drank, speculated upon his
hances, practiced with an imaginary pis-
oil at the wall, and meditated running
way, alternately, until Tltocks business
tep rang in the hall.
"Bob," he said, "we've picked YOU a
eautiful piece of ground, and the other
arty's waiting. It's the most popular
lei of the season."