The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1886-01-06

Nyultt 81.
Blakely threw puzzled look ovel
the tent, and seeing Ned Strong Oh
the broad grin, frowned severely
Strong instantly assumed an abstrac
ted air and began humming softly
II wish was in dixie"
"The State of Maine," observed
/ Blakely, with certain air of def
ance not at all necessary in discuss.
| ing a geographical question, lis a
pleasant State"
IN summer" suggested the stran-
ger.
"In summer, | mean," returned
Blakely with animation, thinking
he had broken the ice. Cold as
blazes in winter, though-ain't itr
The new recruit merely nodded.
Blakely eyed the man homocidal-
| " for a moment, and then, smiling
one of those smiles of simulated gay
ETY. which .he noyelists inform US
are more tragic than tears, turned
upon him with whitening irony.
Trust you left the old folks pref
ty comfortable.
Dead
The old folks dead!''
Quite So"
Blakely made sudden dive for
his blanket, tucked it around him
with painful precision, and was heard
no more.
Just then the bugie sounded lights
out,-bugle answering bugle in far
off camps. When our not elaborate
night toilets were complete, Strong
threw somebody else's old boot at
the candle with infallible aim, and
darkness took possession of the tent.
Ned, who lay on my left, presently
reached over to me and whispered ::
Il say, our friend quite So is a
garrulous old boy He'll talk him
self to death some of these odd times
if he isn't careful. How he DID run
on I"
The next morning. when l opened
my eyes, the new member of Mess 3
was sitting on a knapsack, combing
his blonde beard with a horn comb.
He nodded pleasantly TO me, and to
each of the boys as they woke up
one by one. Blakely did not APP
pear disposed to renew the anima-
ted conversation of the previous
night but while he was gone TO
make a requisition for what the i'm
agination of Shakespeare himself
could not accept as coffee, Curtis
ventured to ask the man what his
name was.
Bladburn, john" was the reply.
That's rather a long name for
everyday use" put in Strong. If
it wouldn't hurt your feelings, I'd
like to call you Quite So , for short.
Don't say no. if you don't like it ; is
it agreeable?"
Bladburn gave little laugh. all
to himself. seemingly, and was about
to say quite SO, whe he caught at
the words, blushed like girl, and
nodded a sunny assent to Strong.
From that day until the end, the So
briquet clung to him.
The disaster at Bull Run was fol-
lowed, as the reader knows, by a
long period of mastery inactivity, so
far as the Army of the Potomac was
concerned. Mcdowell, a good sol
dier, but unlucky, retired to Arling-
ton Heights and Mcclellan, who
had distinguished himself in West
ern Virginia, took command of the
forces in front of Washington, and
bent his energies to reorganizlng the
demoralized troops. 1t was a drea-
ry time to the people of the North,
who looked fatuously from week to
week for the fall of Richmond; it
was sad, dreary time to the deni-
zens of that vast city of tents and
forts which stretched in semicircle
before the beleaguered Capitol-so
tedious and soul wearing time that
the hardships of forced marches and
the horrors of battle became desira-
bic things to them.
Roll-call morning and evening,
guard duty, dress parades. an occa-
sional reconnaissance, dominoes wres-
ting matches, such rude games as
could be carried Oh in camp, made
up the sum OF our lives. The arri-
val of the mail with letters and pa
pers from home was the event OF the
day. We noticed that Bladburn
neither wrote or received any letters.
When the rest of the boys were
scribbling away for dear life. with
drum heads and knap-sacks and
crscker-boxes for writing desks, ne
would sit serenely smoking his pipe
but looking out on US through rings
of smoke with face expressive OF
tee tenderest interest.
"Look here, Quite So," Strong
would say, 1.-The mailbag closes In
half an hourN Amt you going to
write p
Il believe not to-day" Bladburn
rYould reply, as if he had written
yesterday, or would write to-mor-
row but he never wrote.
He had become a great favorite
with us, and with all the officers of
the regiment. He talked less than
any man ever knew, but there was
nothing gloomy or sullen in his ret
icence. 1t was sunshine-warmth
and brightness. but no voice. Un-
assuming and modest, to the verge
of shyness, he impressed every one
as man of singular pluck and
nerve.
DO you know" said Curtis to
me one day, that fellow Quite So
is clear grit, and when we come to
close quarters with our Palmetto
brethren over yonder, he'll do some
thing devilish ?"
What makes you think so ?"
Well, nothing quite explainable
the exasperating GOODNESS of the
man, as much as anything. This
morning the boys were teasing Muf-