The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1898-08-12
THE,
CERCEANI1Il|
OF THE CUARDI1|
CHAPTER ].
A.
COPYRIGHT 1898, BY THE AUTHOR

tie of beer had been opened, command
ed silence and leaned his fingers on the
little table of Mother Revell's kitchen
in the manner Of an accustomed after
dinner speaker.
"Ye'll accuse me bowldniss," said
he, "but Ohm afther roisin to perpouse
hilth an long loife to Misthress Revell
AN sure Old betther be namin her
Mother Revell at onct, fur it's that the
whole rigilnint names her, more power
to her"
Hear, hear!" cried the newly made
sergeant, patting his mothers wrinkled
hand. hand of a boiled looking white
from much laundry worK Ii Sne vse
troop.
"Good boy, Healy," cried old Fin
Strait the farrier. "Wait till L get
pencil to report that Speech
"Ye're an ignorant ould blatherslite,
Fin. We couldn' t report nothin. Whit
wud the loilze Nv vouse be doin wild a
pincil:' the corporal asked, grinning.
"Shut yer face till Oi be through sp'al1-
in. Martin, me sen, ye be Young to be
a sargint, but faith it's natural ye
shu'd jump over me, who's bin corp'lil
IN brulz az corpTil IN brulz III the rigi-
mint tin tonnes over. It's liver bin me
plisint practice, Martin, an yer mothers,
too to tache a promisin young noncom
the roight way to do his duty, which
has bin fruitful Nv thrubble an foight-
in OWN to the consated freshness NV
young noncons ginerally, who think
they know it all. Bat youse wuz BORN
wild the throop an c'ud larn his drill to
any Johnnie come lately frum Wist
Pint. An fur them manifowld blessin 5,
Martin-sure Oh shud say Sargint Rev
ell-ye'll thank yer mother, fur why?.
She's bin the Dist fri nd NV iv'ry man
in the Guild throop since youse wuz'in
frocks, me son. She's saved miny a
wan frum bobtail discharge an niny
wan frum hell, God bless her. An
what we wudn't do fur Mother Revell
an her boy aim t worth dom, begab an
begob. That's all, an now We can blow
off all the gas ye've mind to, Fin
Strait, fur Dim through wild me sp'a ak
i'm
no orator like Healy, Mrs. Revell, be-
cause I've nothin to say. Only wei
here to wet Martins stripes, so We'll
open another bottle to his health. He
was bugler when he was l6 an cor
poral at 20, an now he S a sergeant at
20, an there's not man jealous of
him either. Martin, Il spanked you
when you was small for the love of you,
an I'm proud to think them spankin' S
helped to'malSe a man of you Keep on,
my son, an you'll be first sergeant of
the old troop in another year, like your
father before you"
"Achoo!"
Healy was seized with an attack of
sneezing SO that he Buried his face in
his handkerchief. Little Mother Rev
ellis tanned and wrinkled face whiten-
ed, and she looked reproachfully at the
farrier with big, gray. sorrowful eyes
Fin himself turned red and opened sew
eral bottles of beer in his confusion.
"And I'll bet my father made d good
one," said the young sergeant. "Eh,
mother? You never tell me much about
| him.
'sIt was SO long ago, dear, the laun-
| dress answered i'll a whisper.
There came rap on the door, per-
emptory and official, and Martin rose
and opened it, letting into the room a
shiver compelling gust of wind and a
whirl of snow.
"Hello, Seddon!" he cried. What Is
up? Come imp
A snow despatched orderly, coated
and befurred, entered with stamping
of overshoes.
"With the majors compliments tc
Mrs. Reyell, he said formally, land
he knowwhen stripes should be wetted. y
The orderly grinned and placed two
bottles of Wine on the table and dashed
out again to resume his post at the
house of the major commanding.
Tears sprang to Mother Revell's eyes,
and her son reddened with pleasure
elbow kind of the old major,'' she
said. "He's been good friend to me.
To think he should remember your pro
motion, Martini"
"Ah, it's you he remembers, mother
cried Martin. "Do you think he forgets
how you nursed him when the Apaches
gave him that bullet in the ribs?"
Gath, Z" Healy muttered, Fan may
be he moinds further back than that, me
boy, whin he wuz only a sargint hissel1
in the war, an yer mother nursed more
nor him through the bullet fever -
"Healy!" cried Mother Revell nerv
ously.
"Mam," said the long legged, rec
haired corporal, "shall / be afther open
in bottle Nv wine?"
is it shampeen, cried the farrie,
excitedly, cor maybe sherry wine?"
"Pass me the bottle, Fin, av W
please, said Healy, can OIL be afthel
tellin We. It's naythur. It's port, al
old fashioned .yintleman' s wine. Mish
tress Revell, me grandfather had dozens
NV it i'll his castle in the Guild country ,
"Give it here" the farrier cried,
waving corkscrew.
"Fin Strait" said the corporal, sud
denly snatching it, while he frowned
upon his friend. "In a matther NV this