St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1894-03-22
Selected Story.
SELIM ENTERS THE ARMY.

The spring after the accident to
Miss Eunice, fox hunting ceased al
together in Kentucky. About this
time also Colonel Claypole appeared
in a gorgeous uniform Of gray and
gold, and | observed that Jim and
the other grooms addressed him with
more Difference than ever, but, in
stead of calling him Marse' Colonel /
as before, they now called him
Marse' Corporal. Whatever this
promotion might be, regarded it as
a considerable advance in dignity, so
ignorant was | of military matters
in the early months of the year 81.
There were colonies and generals
and officers of every grade, coming
and going at the great house, almost
as dazzling in their uniforms as Jim in
IN his racing outfit of orange and
black Besides these there were
horse-dealers and newly appointed
quartermasters, and there was a
steady stream of thoroughbreds out
of the pastures and corresponding
flow of gold into the Colonel's pock-
cts. In my profound ignorance of
the difference between a star and an
eagle, or between two bars and a
chevron. is it any wonder that, when
saw "Marse' CorporaP' entertain
ing all these high officers with his
old-time hospitality, l thought his
modest rank equal to that of his
guests, if not greater?
During all this excitement, how
ever, what was most significant TO
me was the steady dlminutlOn OF the
number of animals in the stables.
Racing meetings were no more talked
of, and the grooms in many cases
went away with their charges to be
servants to new masters. By mid
summer they numbered scarcely more
than dozen, mostly the older brood
mares, and l was the only young
animal on the plantation.
Miss Eunice was very grave for
her years, and walked with a little
limp, which touched me to the heart,
knowing as l did that the injury she
had sustained was the result of my
own folly. She seemed to have none
the less affection for me, and l loved
her all the more, with a horses
dumb devotion. l was never so
proud and happy as when l was
carrying her light weight, and never
so careful to tread lightly and to an
ticipate her wishes and in every way
Weld my will to hers. Every day we
went together to the village post
office, and when a letter came, l
walked along the homeward road
with the reins on my neck, to the
rustic of the stiff paper. Sometimes
tears fell on my shoulders, sometimes
/ heard a ripple of laughter, and
could always tell whether the news
was good or bad by the pace we
took when the reading was over
A lively dash meant that the Colonel
was well and happy, and that his
daughter was proud and hopeful; a
restrained pace betokened danger OF
some reverse to the cavalry regiment
in which the Colonel was corporal.
Lion, too, observed all the signs
When the reins were gathered up anC
the frolic began, he was frantic with
excitement but if Miss Eunice was
downcast and the walk continued at
ter the letter was read, his tai
dropped and the light went out o
his eyes, and if he forgot himself or
such an occasion and trotting on fol
a few steps in advance, he woulC
suddenly halt and look back with {
detected and apologize mlen, ane
stand fast until we had passed, wher
he would resume his place at tht
rear like a mOurner at funeral.
One day in September when the
post had been more than usually
prolific in good news, we came home
at a tearing pace. Jim. who was
summing himself on the paddock
fence, as a highly representative
functionary of the empty stable, de
scended promptly from his perch anc
turned cart wheel on the grass II
sympathetic response to his young
rnistress's high spirits. By the tim
we reached him, however, 1t was ev1
dent that lin had forgotten himsel
in his momentary hilarity, for hi
face had taken on an expression o
unwonted gravity, his eyes wer
fairly bullying, and he suffered witt
excitement as he held up his hand
to stay our progress.
"Fo' Cord, Miss Eunice," sai'
lin, in a hcarse warning whisper, a
he came forward and laid his han'
on my shoulder, ''de Yankees is roun
yer, fer shore. Dey has tooken d
Majors best horses from de stable
ND wander to the Manor-house di
yer mornin'. I'm a-telling ye d
troof, Miss Eunice. Yaller Tor
fotch me der news afore yo' don
gwine out O sight for de pos'-offic'
an jes' ris up an swipe all de mare
off to de woodchuck lot an done hi
EN- all safe, 'cept ole Lady jar
what's done gone lame, an Je'
tied up she laig in er blanket an le
'er loose yander in der big pastul
fer blind. l low de most of 'el
has done gone norf, Missy, but
reckon l better strip de feathers O
Selim an carry him down to de san
hnck Lot mighty nuiCk"-and ~