Idaho County free press. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho Territory) 1886-current, 1891-03-27
HIS Welded WIFE.

turning il you tread on them too
severely. The safest plan is never to
tread on q worm-not even on the last
pew subaltern from home, with his
buttons 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
Ramsey Faizanne "The Worm" al
though he was an exceedingly pretty
boy, without a hair on his face and
with waist like a girls, when he
came out to the Second "Shikarris''
and was made unhappy in several
ways. The "Shikarris" are a high
caste regiment, and you must be able
to do things well-play banjo, or
ride more than little, or sing, or act
TO get on with them.
The worm did nothing except to fall
OF his pony and knock chips out of the
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 five things were vices which the
'Shikarris" objected to and set them.
selves to eradicate. Everyone knows
how subalterns are by brother sub
Mterns softened and not permitted to
be ferocious.
The "Shikarris" shikarried The
Worm very much, and he bore every
thing without winking. He was so
good. 30 anxious to learn, and flushed
80 pink, that his education was cut
short, and he was left to his own de-
vices by everyone except the senior
subaltern, who continued to make life
a 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 q man. Also, he
was In love, which made him worse.
One day, after he had borrowed The
Worms trap for lady who never ex-
listed, had used it himself all the after
noon, 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 quite lady-like voice; That was a
very pretty sell; but I'll lay you a
months pay to a months pay when
you get your step that work a sell on
you that you'll remember for the rest
OF your days, and the regiment 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 upward and down
again, and said Done, Baby" The
Worm took the rest of the mess to wit
ness that the bet had been taken, and
retired into book with a 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. l have
said that the senior subaltern was in
love. The curious thing is, that a 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 for
got to bother The Worm. The girl
was pretty girl and had money of her
own. She does not come into this story
at all.
One night at the beginning of the 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
rustic of skirts in the dark and a
tired, faint voice lifted itself:
Where's my husbandP"
l do not wish in the least to reflect
ON the morality of the "Shikarris," but
1t 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 he had acted on the impulse
of the moment. He explained this
afterward.
Then the voice cried ooh, Lionel!"
Lionel was the senior subaltern's name.
A woman came into the little circle of
light by the candles on the peg tables,
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 happen, and
ready to believe the worst. In this
bad small world of ours one knows SO
little of the life of the next man, which
after all is entirely his own concern,
that one is not surprised when crash
comes.
Anything might turn up any day for
any one. Perhaps the senior subaltern
had been trapped in his youth. Men
are crippled that way occasionally.
1 ~