Devils Lake inter-ocean. (Devils Lake, Ramsey Co., Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1905, 1899-12-22

should be "shut off, from the further
ministrations of the Red Cross, and
broadly intimating that it wasn't a fair
deal that their rivals should be allowed
a whole additional hour of lingering
farewells.
Lingering tarewells there certainly
were. Many a young soldier and many
a lass "paired off" in little hooks and
corners among the stacks of bales and
boxes, but at the table nearest the
staging all seemed gay good hu1nor.
A merry little woman with straw-col-
ored hair and pert, tip-tilted nose and
much vivacity, and complexion, had ap-
parently taken the lead in the warfare
of chaff and fun. Evidently she was
no stranger to most of the officers. AL
most as evidently, to a very close OBJ
server who stood a few PAGES away,
she vas no intimate of the group of
women who with good right regarded
that table as their especial and per-
sonal charge. Her Red Cross badge was
very new; her garb and gloves were
just as fresh and spotless. She had
not been ladling out milk and cream,
or buttering sandwiches, or pinning
souvenirs on dusty blue blouses ever
since early morning. Other faces
there showed through all their smiles
and sweetness the traces of long days
of unaccustomed work and short nights
of troubled sleep. Marvellous were Mrs.
Frank Garrison's recuperative powers,
thought they who saw her brought
home in the Primes stylish carriage,
weak and helpless and shaken after her
adventure of the previous day. She
had not been at the Preside a week
and yet she pervaded it. She had never
thought of such q thing as the Red
Cross until she found it the center of
the social armament after her arrival
at San Francisco, and here she was,
the last conner, the foremost ("most for
ward" I think some one described it)
in their circle at one of the most prom
inent tables, absorbing much of the
attention, most of the glory, and none
of the fatigue that should have been
equally shared by all.
"Adios!" she gayly cried, as the "as-
sembly" rang out, loud and clear, and
waving their hands and raising their
caps, the officers fastened to join their
commands. "Adios, till we meet in
Manila"
"Do you really think of going to the
Philippines, Mrs. G%arrison?" queried a
much older looking, yet younger wom-
an. "Why, we were told the general
said that non of his staff would be
allowed to take their wives"
"Yet there are others!" laughed Mrs.
Garrison, waving a dainty handkerchief
toward the troops now breaking into
column of twos and slowly climbing the
stage. "Who would want to go with
that blessed old undertaken? Good
by-bon voyage, Geordie," she cried,
blowing a kiss to the lieutenant at the
head of the second troop, a youth who
blushed and looked confused at the at
tention thereby centered upon him and
who would fain have shaken his fist,
rather than waved the one ~unoccupied
hand in perfunctory reply. when 1
go I'll choose a ship with a band and
broad decks, not any such cramped old
canal boat as the Portland"
"Oh! I thought perhaps your hus-
band" began the lady, obviously, but
with a significant glance at the silent
faces about her.
"Who? Frank Garrison? Heavensl
I haven't known what it was to have a
husband-since that poor dear boy
went on staff duty" promptly answered
the diminutive center of attraction, o
merry peal of laughter ringing under
the dingy archway of the long, long
roof. why, the Portland has only one
stateroom in it big enough for a band
box, and Of course the general has to
have that, and there isn't a deck where
one couple could turn a slow waltz. No,
indeed! wait for the next fotilla, when
our fellows go, bands and all. Then
we'll see."
"But surely, Mrs. Garrison, we are
told the war department has positively
forbidden officers wives from going on
the transports"-again began her in
terrogator, a wistful look in her tired
eyes. II know I'd give anything to join
Mr.. Dutton."
"The wal department has to take or
ders quite as often as it gives them,
Mrs. Dutton. The thing is to know how
to be of the order giving side. Oh, joy!"
she suddenly cried. "Here are the
Primes and Amy Lawrence-then the
regiments must be coming! And there's
Stanley Armstrong;"
Far up the westward street the dis
tant roar of voices mingled with the
swing and rhythm and crash of martial
music. Dock policemen and soldiers on
guard began boring a wide lane through
the throng of people on the pier. A huge
black transport ship lay moored along
the opposite side to that on which the
guns and troopers were embarked, and
for hours bales, boxes and barrels had
been swallowed up and stored in her
capacious depths until now, over
against the tables of the Red Cross,
there lay behind a rope barrier, taut
stretched and guarded by a line of SEN
tries. an omen Snace close under tho