Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1898-06-09
TOM, THE BRAT.

<<%><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
There are some people in this world
who seem predestined by an unrea.
sonable and uncharitable fate TO en-
dure all the kicks, cuffs and contume'
ly allotted to human affairs. Thai
such luck" is utterly un1eserved the
victims themselves are every ready to
admit, no matter how strenuously in.
terested friends try to argue with
them against such confession.
Such buffet Of fate was Tom vii.
son, who childhood was passed in the
village Of Charville, 0. 1t was popu.
larly supposed that Tom was born al
Charville, and that Peg Wilson was
his mother. At least, Peg was CHIEF
castigator and tongue lasher extraor-
binary to his redheaded highness.
But Peg would scarcely admit thai
Tom had been born at all, 80 con-
temptuous seemed her regard for
him, and II there was such an i'm.
pulse as motherly affection In Peg'a
rough nature it must have been re-
garded by her as the holy Of holes
as it was nurtured SO tenderly that il
never found expression through hei
lips.
1t must have been that Tom tried
her sorely, for he was an American
boy, with all that such designation
implies. He had won as many mar.
bles at keeps" as any boy in the vii
lage, and had BACKED the eyes Of
every boy between the depot at one
end of the village to the bricKyard a,
the other.
So, drifting along, sustaining many
beatings, fighting his way. Tom
reached the age of twelve, just as the
country was electrified with the news
of impending war Tom was like 9TH
er boys, in that he loved to follow the
meanderlngs Of the awkward squad
as it drilled upon the village common.
In fact, with an old -four barrel and
pair of chair rungs, he had become
so thoroughly familiar with the beats,
rolls, draggs and Things Of the cross
eyed drummer, who, on, each succeed
ing Fourth of July, had delighted to
show how he did it in the Mexican
War, and who now drummed for the
new company of home guards, that
he (Tom) could march almost as well
as any of them.
One day in the summer of 81 Tom
was vigorously beating the long roll
upon his faithful -four barrel, when
Peg alighted upon him like a spirit of
evil:
flyer var again, y red-headed
brat, thumpin' that ole bari! I've a
notion t. cram y into ct an head y
up! Hyer! Gimme them
"Oh, nam"
But the chair rungs had passed un-
Ter an old meat ak and were destined
to beat taps" no more forever.
Now gi-long QUITO this. Ef ketch
you-oh, | wish y could go t war, n
never come back!'
Tom hear it, and said nothing. Peg
vent her way, but somehow the
clothes pins were harder to hold, the
Inc more kinky and the soot-hakes
more thickly that day than ever be-
fore. Not that there was any reason
tor it-no, indeed. What had she said
that should made a strong woman
nervous? Surely it was no harm to
wish that freckled imp in Jericho!
Besides, he couldn't go to war-but
what's the use of talking?
Still, Peg felt "narvous like" for
some days, while Tom said very little.
The shrll shrek OF fife broke up
on the midnight stiffness. There was
a measured rolling and perfect tim
ing to the snNe drum accompani-
ment, which acquainted the natives
with the fact that Major Smith, the
cross-eyed Mexican veteran, was not
handling the ebony sticks. Never did
1.-THE Girl | Left Behind n >" sound
with a wierder meaning; never was
there a cheerier drumming. The
home guards had offered their SER
vices, had received a call and were
marching TO the front.
whats the row." asked Peg, as
she thrust her night capped head
from a window and hailed a drowsy
neighbor.
Comply goin' to the front"
Us that old fool Major Smith goin'
with 'em?"
NO, Jake tells me It's the new
drummer playin'-"
"Well, I'm glad my brat, Tom, hain't
awake, or he'd be crazy. A drum sets
him wild. You just ought to-"
But the neighbor knew Pegs gar.