The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1883-06-02
ailon went, the lambs were sure to

n1alion went, the lambs were sure to
go
Dut there we were, neither of us
| f0f dead certain had the right of way.
4 lW mad we letters of introduction to
each other.
and what a spectacle, then, was
] Crawfy
re was mounted on a large thor
| opghbread horse, which wore English
hQnang equipments, and had its tail
aged like the forelocks of the dude.
rawfy had gone into the fight that
2rning wearing gold jacket trim
rfa with blue, red flannel shirt
sia beautiful white corduroy trous-
But she'll had smashed his arm,
Yhlzh wasin sling the blood from
hs arm had saturated his trousers !;
ZAP Was gone; his face was be.
srnned with powder Il can truthfully
remark that Crawfy's face was not
beautiful in it's best estate) his gold
jacket looked as if it had been struck
by lightning, and he was generally
the most disheveled and thoroughly
uninviting specimen of the patriot it
had been my good fortune to look
upon up to that time.
AS | now revert to that touching
scene after lapse of about twenty
years, l think. 1 must have smiled.
Gravity must have noticed this
playful relaxation of my manly brow.
"Well, SIR" he said, his lower jaw
protruding like bull dogs.
"Haye you anything to say?"
"Yes," replied. "Now that you
have put me in mind of it. was
about to make an observation. 1t
occurs to me. taking into consdera-
tion what my ancestors would desig-
nate as your tout ensemble, you are
just the worst-looking specimen of
our proud race eyer saw"
To that observation, which I
thought afterwards was trifle too
familiar, considering our rather brief
acquaintance, Gravity paid not the
slightest attention.
Probably, some one before that had
given expression to similar senti-
ment.
His lower jaw, however, went
further to the front and his short
upper lip curled an extra curl or two.
as he replied:
"I'll fight you for the right of way
up this road"
Fight: ?" | said. "Fieht? How
can you fight with your arm in a
sling?
His very expressive lower jaw lit.
orally dropped.
II didn't think of that" he said.
Then riding close up to me he added.
in the most captivating tone of voice
hC COuiu NOIltIuIIu
"See here. sir, you don't know me
and don't know you, and we have
no way of finding each other out. but
do know that Pygmalion has gone
up the hill. Uncle John is up there !;
Pm one of his nephews, and if you
will let me lana the first gun on those
heights after Pygmalion, 1 will love
you all the rest of my iife."
He went on. His gun was the first
on the hill top.
"Trot ~ he shouted, "trot you
snails Pygmalion is gaining on us.
"Bugler, blow the trot!" Poor
Gravity.
That was his last command. He
was struck ny shell Just as he went
over the brow of the hill and borne
to the earth.
They were raising him as we got
there, preparing to take him to the
rear. But it was evident at a glance
that Gravity had fred his last shot.
ats no use," he murmered, mo
use. Never mind me-"
Then with last convulsive effort
he pointed out towards the church.
"Yonder he goes"
"Bugler, blow the trot I"
Follow Pygmalion ~
And we followed where the old
horse led the way.
MULDOoN.
Major Heavy Artillery.
| when VOu suffer from dusnencia