The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1890-08-06
Selected Storm.
His Welded Wife.


Shakespeare says something about
worms, or it may be giants or beetles,
turning if you tread on them too Sc
verely. The safest plan is never to
tread on worm-not even on the last
new subaltern from home, with his but
tons hardly out of their tissue paper
and the red of sappy English beef in his
cheeks. This is the story of the worm
that turned. For the sake of brevity
we will call Henry Augustus Ramsay
Faizanne "The Worm," although he
was an exceedingly pretty boy, without
a hair on his face and with waist like
a girls, when he came out to the Sec
ond "Shikarris " and was made I'M
happy in several ways. The " shikar-
ris" are a high caste regiment, and
you must be able to do things we'll
play banjo, or ride more than little,
or sing, or act-to get on with them.
The Worm did nothing except fall
off his pony and knock chips out of
gate posts with his trap. Even that
became monotonous after a time. He
objected to whist, cut the cloth at
billiards, sang out of tune, kept very
much to himself and wrote to his
mamma and sisters at home. Four of
these things were vices which the
I" Shikarris " objected to and set them
selves to eradicate. Every one knows
how subalterns are, by brother subal-
terms, softened and not permitted to be
ferocious. 1t is good and wholesome
and does no one any harm unless
tempers are lost; and then there is
trouble. There was a man once-but
that is another story.
The " Shikarris shikarred The
Worm very much, and he bore every
thing without winking. He was so
good and so anxious to learn, and
flushed so pink that his education was
cut short and he was left to his own
devices by every one except the senior
subaltern, who continued to make life
burden to The Worm. The senior
subaltern meant no harm, but his chaff
was coarse, and he didn't quite under
stand where to stop. He had been
waiting too long for his company, and
that always sours a man. Also he
was in love, which made him worse.
One day, after he had borrowed The
Worms trap for lady who had never
existed, had used it himself all the
afternoon, had sent a note to The
Worm, purporting to come from the
lady, and was telling the mess all
about it, The Worm rose in his place
and said, in his quiet, lady-lke voice:
That was very pretty sell, but I'll
lay you months pay to months pay
when you get your step that l work a
sell on you that you'll remember for
the rest of your days, and the regi
ment after you when you're dead or
broke" The Worm wasn't angry in
the least, and the rest of the mess
shouted. Then the senior subaltern
looked at The Worm from the boots up
ward and down again and said "Done,
Baby" The Worm took the rest of
the mess to witness that the bet had
been taken and retired into book
with sweet smile.
Two months passed and the senior
subaltern still educated The Worm,
who began to move about little more
as the hot weather came on. | have
said that the senior subaltern was in
love. The curious thing is that girl
was in love with the senior subaltern.
Though the colonel said awful things,
and the majors snorted, and married
captains looked unutterable wisdom,
and the juniors scoffed, those two were
engaged.
The senior subaltern was so pleased
with getting his company and his ac-
ceptance at the same time that he forgot
to bother The Worm. The girl was a
pretty girl and had money of her own.
She does not come into this story at all
One night, at the beginning of hot
weather, all the mess except The Worm,
who had gone to his own room to write
home letters, were sitting on the plat
form outside the mess-house. The
band had finished playing, but no one
wanted to go in. And the captains
wives were there also. The folly of a
man in love is unlimited. The senior
subaltern had been holding forth on
the merits of the girl he was engaged
to, and the ladies were purring approval,
while the men yawned, when there was
a rustic of skirts in the dark and tired,
faint voice lifted itself:
Where's my husband?"
| do not wish in the least to reflect on
the morality of the Shikarris," but it
is on record that four men jumped up
as if they had been shot. Three of
them were married men. Perhaps
they were afraid that their wives had
come from home unbeknownst. The
fourth said that he had acted on the
impulse of the moment. He explained
this afterward.
Then the voice cried: "Oh, Lionelr'
Lionel was the senior subaltern's
name. A woman came into the little
circle of light by the candles on the
peg table, stretching out her hands to
the dark where the senior subaltern
was and sobbing. We rose to our feet
feeling that things were going to hap,
pen and ready to believe the worst
In this bad, small world of ours one
knows so little of the life of the mex
man, which, after all, is entirely hi;
own concern, that one is not surprised
when crash comes.
Anything might turn up any day fol-
anv one. Perhaps the senior subalterr