The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1895-03-14

WIKI hearts 700 uttefaHec, Win pus SiiSn
We dare no. look behind US but siesdfsstly Be
| fore,
We are coming. Father Abraham, three huudros
thousand more"
He remembered the words fairly well; HI
sang his tune q great deal when working
alone. 1t was an adjustable, donble-back
action tune, and fitted all the songs he knew
Jim sang through bis nose.
"You have called ard ve are coming by Rich
mo1d's bloody Tide. q
Tol lay us down for Freedonn, our brothers bones
Or from foul Treason's savage grasp to wrench The
| murdeFous blade,
And In the face of foreign foes Its fragments to
Six hundred thousand loyal mon and true have
| gone before
We coming Father Abraham, three hundred
| thousand more"
"Ah, Jim, you are drunk" said Eecles.
That is the way with you old soldiers. II
the Government gives you q pension, you
will drink and gamble it all away.p
Where did l learn to drink, if not in the
army? Did you suppose my mother taught
me? No, sir; went to Sunday school when
/ was kid and belonged to Band of Hope.
1 never tasted whisky until one night after
forced march. I've got better excuse for
drinking than you fellows. Can you get
any money without getting drunk! Don't
ycu so on bigger drunks than 1 ever seen
| Gould stand such tears with a bullet in my
| hip?"
| This was subject of vital Importance to
| poor Jim. He leaned forward as he talked,
| and two bright spots burned through his
| tanned cheeks.
Its the treatin' that does it." Ned put
| in. "I thinks I'll never drink any more, an
I goes to town and somebody treats. It's
! agin my principles to refuse. By the time
l has two drinks, l golly, feel IS if Ed got
to have more" Here he cast longing eyes
| on the bottle; but Vande frowned and Ned
went on Once / was worth $4,000. /
went on q drunk and never stopped until
my money was gone. Then, golly, sold
my coat for drinks to sober up on"
The Government don't give pensions"
said Jim, who had heard Ned's story adozen
times. "It pays pensions. Did any of you
fellows do anything for the Government?
Does it owe you any thing? l put it to yoa
| now. Vande?"
Cant say that it does-only it promised
to give us homesteads if we'd help settle and
develop the country. When we got here we
found that the railroads had about all the
good land"
"Gice," Jim exclaimed with some scorn,
"oh, the Government gives land, does it?
thought you always let on that you earned
it helping settle the country"
earned it, then 1 bought it; but haven't
got tide yet"
How would you like to have it flung in
your face that you had it as sort of Gov
ernment charity? About the time you made
that big haul in Lost Mans Gulch l was
in Andersonville Prison. was nothin' but
skin am bones when / come out-had to
crawl on my hands md knees. Ny hip was
a running sore for years. We were both
fixed for life right then-you with more
money that most men ever see an with
wounds and disease. It's the ingratitnde of
Republics that hurts me. Its givin' all for
the Union an then hayin' you fellows that
never done hand turn for the Union kick
agn our gettin' pensions to help make our
old aye sort of comfortable like"
It's a pity that bullet struck you from
behind" said Eceles. . I believe wounded
soldiers deserve pehsions; but would draw
the line on fellows that were shot in the
back"
"Iwa'n'tshot I'M the back" Jim exclaimed
wrathfully; "and FL get my pension and
have as nice a woman and as geod home as
any man, and will stop drinking, too
oh, what do you want of woman?"
said Vande, who was a woman-hater By
spells. I've got good, comfortable home,
and ana as well off as though had woman
bothering around and complaining"
i've nothin' to say agin your place,
Vsnde," Jim replied. "But you can't make
a place look the way women do, nor you
can't cock the way women dor-none of US
can. Sour-dough bread is all right for us
fellows 10 make, but it don't equal my
mothers light biscuits"
Oh, you are too sentimental" J" said Vande
"You just naturally won't do any good in
this country. Out here a single man who
has plenty Of good, substantial grub and a
dry, warm place to live is better off than the
man who has woman and all her trim
mings."
"Jm's right" said Ned. "It do take |
woman to make things nice, golly, it do"
g can fix things nice myself when I've a |
mind said Vande. I" / can cook as well as
any woman in this camp. I'll get you fell |
lows q Christmas dinner and show you what |
/ can do when / lay out to do my best"
MAY we come the night before and hang |
up our stockings?" Jim asked.
You may come the night before, but I |
sha'n't do the Santa Claus act" and Vande
put his pipe Gu the shelf and began to plan
beds for his guests.
An hour later all was still save the sound /
of the wind pushing against the cabin walls
and the breathing of four sleeping men.
Vande was wakeful. The pain in his knee
was always bad when the wind blew. To-
night both wind and pain were worse than
usual. he lay with bis hands clasped over
his knee and thought of the dinner that be
had promised to cook. He always provided
lavishly of coarse, wholesome food. This
coming Christmas dinner should surpass
both in the number of viands and the eie-
ganee Of serving any other strictly bachelor
dinner the country had ever known. As
women plan, so he planned what he would
cook. He would have turkey, of course;
chickens, anyway. He wondered if it were
much work TO roast turkey. His fricassee
chicken bad quite reputation among his
bachelor neighb)rs Cranberries were good
with turkey. He might send to Butte for
some. He would buy some canned mnce-
meat and make few pies.
AS the long hours wore away he lay
thinking of the Old-time Christmas pies and
cakes and puddiDgs. He thought of the old
days and the old friends. Singled out from
among all other Christmas times was the
last one before he left home. That MORN
ing he had thought that his life would be
ordered after another plan than the one he
really lived out. He had almost asked her
to be his wife. At least, he fully meant TO
ask her when he took her home that night;
but there were hot words spoken about the
war She said she never would marry
man who had not fought for the Union, and