The Press., 1883-08-09
THE RAGGED SOLDIER.
The bravest are the tenderest,

The bravest are the tenderest,
 The loving are the daring-bdyGrd IGytor.
 Just at the close of the late Revolution ary war was seen, somewhere in one of the small towns of central Massachusetts, a ragged and forlorn-looking soldier coming up the dusty street. He looked about on the corn fields tasse1ing for the harvest on the rich, bright patches of wheat ready for the sickle and on the green potato fields, with curious eyes-so at least thought MT. Towne, who was walking leisurely behind him, going home from the reaping to his supper. The latter was 8 stout farmer, dressed in homemade brown linen trow- sers, without suspenders, vest or coat. The ragged soldier stopped under the shade of large sugar maple and Mir. Towne. overtaking him, stopped also.
 "Homs from the wars ?'' he asked. "Just out of the British clutches, :" re- piled the man. 'sI've been prisoner for years" He rejoined suddenly, "Can you tell me who lives in the next house is it yours ?'
 "No," replied MT. Towne ''Tompkins lives there. That house and farm used to belong to comrads of yours, as I suppose. His name was Jones ; but he was shot at Bunker Hill and his widow married again. | The soldier leaned against tree "What kind of man is he? I mean, what kind of people are they there? ?" he asked somewhat faintly. "Would they be likely to let poor soldier have something to eat ?'
 of Tompkins is out, |" said MT. Towne, you'd be treated frst-rate there. Mrs. Tompkins is a nice woman, but he is the snarliest cur that ever gnawed bone. He I iC 1>lxrc irrhh and ho Iao6 1 her dogs life. She missed it marrying that fellow, but you see she had 8 hard time of it with the farm after Jones went of soldering and when my son came back and said he wes dead-he saw him bleeding to death on the battle feld-she broke right down, and this Tomkins came along and got in to work for her and he laid himself out to do frst-rate. He some how got on the blind side of all of us, and when he offered himself to her I advised her to have him and am sorry I did it. You had better come home with me I al ways have bite for any poor fellow that has fought for his country"
 "Thank you kindly" returned the sol dier; "but Mrs. Tompkins is distant-a sort of old acquaintance. The fact is used to know her husband and I guess will call there."
 1 Mir. Towne watched him as he went uI to the door and knocked and saw that he was admitted by Mrs. Tompkins.
 "Some old sweetheart of hers, maybe, said MT. Towns, ,nodding to himself. "He comes too late poor woman, she has s hard row to hoe now" Then MT. Towne went home to supper and we will go in with the soldier.
 "Could you give poor soldier mouth full to eat 9 he asked of the pale, nervous woman who opened the door.
 My husband does not allow me to give anything to travellers, she said ''but l al ways feel for the soldiers coming back and I'll give you some supper If you won't be long eating," and she wiped her eyes with her white and blue checked apron and set with alacrity about providing refreshments for the poor man who had thrown himself in the nearest chair, and with his head leaning on his breast, seemed too tiree even to remove his hat from his face.
 ''I am very glad to have you eat, and ] would not hurry you for anything" she said in frightened way, 'but you will eat quickly, won't you? for I expect every minute he will be in.'
 The man drew his chair to the table keeping his hat on his head, as though he belonged to the Society of Friends but ] war.
 He ate heartily of the bread and butter and cold meat, and how long he was about it !
 Mrs. Tompkins fdgeted. "Dear mo, J she said to herself, Eff he only knew, he wouldn't be so cruel as to let Tompkins come in and catch him here." She went and looked from the window uneasily but | the soldier gave no token of his meal com 1 ing to an end.
 ''Now he is pouring vinegar on the cold cabbage and potatoes. I can't ask him to take those away in his hand. o dear, how slow he is hasn't he any teeth ?"
 At last she said, mildly;
 ''I am very sorry to hurry you, sir, but couldn't you let me spread some bread and butter, and cut you some slices of meat to take away with you? My husband will use abusive language to, you if he finds you here"
 Before the soldier could reply, footsteps were heard on the door stones, and imme- diately man entered. He stopped short and looked at the soldier as savage dog might look. Then he broke out, in a tone between growl and Q roar:
 "Hey-day, Molly, pretty piece of bus mess What have I told you time and again, madam. You'll find you had bette, mind your master. And you, you lazy thieving vagabond, let me see you out ol my house and off my lands quicker thar you came on the premises"
 ''Your house and your land P exclaim ed the soldier, starting suddenly up, erec and tall, and dashing off his hat with quite fiery gesture. His eyes were flashing lightning and his lips quivered with indig dation, ss he confronted the astonishec Tompkins. Thelatter was evidently afraid of him, and his wife had given a suddel nervous shriek when the soldier first start ed to his feet and flung off his hat, ant had sunk trembling and half fainting in chair, for she recognized him.
 "You hain't any business to interfer between me and my wife, said Tompkins sulkily, cowed by the attitude of the sol dier.
 "Your wife," exclaimed the soldier, will the very concentration of contempt ex pressed in his voice, and pointing at tn man with an indignant finger.
 "Who are you ?" asked Tompkins, witt an air of efrontery.
 q am Harry Jones, since you ask, " re piled the soldier, ''the owner of th1s Ian, and this house, which you will leave thi very hour As for Molly " softenine, hi