The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1900-01-26

he volunteered for TIL scoutin' thrip
with me, misliked it at first because
av TIL thought av that Kakiack wife ay
his. But all tn mornin' he were notin'
down tn lay o. land as cool-loike as
county surveyor at home. An thin.
whin the brown divils began boon-
boomin', he squatted there on wan knee
an worked tn lever av his krag as
methodical as if he were machine gun
an wound up for all day. Whin TIL bull
let wint through him, he wint down on
wan ilbow, with wan hand on his chist.
ar luckin' up at me, who was putin
down me krag to help him, sez he:
"'Kape poompin', Spot. kape poomp
in. Pm done for anyway, an ye must
thry to kape Thin back till tn byes come
out for yez.'
San SEEM tn blood comm in spurts
through his fingers an tn film in his
eyes, knew he spoke thrue. So wint
on with me rat-shootin', kapein' wan
eye on Bill. His ilbow wint slip-slip-
PIN out on tn red wet grass under him.
till his head nodded down in tn crook
av his arrum loike he were drowsy an
droppin' off to slape. TIL bloody hanc
on his chist fell lump-loike beside him.
Thin he opened his eyes sleepy-loike
wanst, an muttered loike he were half
dreamin': 'Tis woman singin'l
"Thin he shut his eyes and dropped
off aisy. An wint on with me rat-kill-
in. Thin 1 heard tn mountain guns
barkin' behind me an tn fire from tn
front slackened. could hear you min
thramplin' through tn dry grass. An
here 1 am. But Bill-he were man
Margarita or no Margarita.'
It was the evening of the day after.
The men of were leaning listlessly
out on the easements of the big casa
where the company was quartereG TO
catch breath of cool air. Across the
street there was a native thatchlad
shack. Under rs projecting roof the
forms of man and a woman were dim.
ly visible. The woman gently touched
the strings of a guitar and just the sug-
gestion of plaintive melody floated
across the way. The men leaned fur
ther out of the easements and listened.
"Shure," said Sevenspot, "thot little
brown divil, Margarita, tuck it har-rd
whin we putt away poor Bill tn morn
in. Whin tn bugle sounded taps, |
shure thought she'd wape herself into
nothing but a pint ay Wather. "Tis a
tinder heart she has under a brown
skin. | misdoubt me | may have mis-
judged tn brown wimmen."
The banjo across the way gave forth
louder thrum-thrum, and then to
moaning, wailing, heart-breaking mel
ody, deep-chested alto chanted sadly,
monotonously in the native tongue.
The soldiers looked and listened silent
ly. The woman's voice rose and fell vi
brantly in wierd chant full of tears
and means and broken hearts, and then
died away in a.hopeless sob. Sevepspot
drew long, shuddery breath.
"'Tis the first native iyer heard
sing" he whispered. "Who is she?"
Bills Margarita," said Smithie, COM
pany Y's authority on Kakiack lingo
and customs.
"Bill's Margarital" exclaimed Seven
spot. "Shure thot explains it'll Twas
thot voice, not TIL brown woman thot
Big Bill married! Twas an echo an a
mimory thot he welded. poor lad!"
Smithie nodded and puffed his cigar.
"Poor little brown Margarita," con-
tinued Sevenspot. "Av could sling TIL
lingo tits mesilf would go an thry an
say kind worrud to her. 'Tis tn death
song av her love she were singing an
tits not unlike an honest Irish keen.
'Tis sad me ould heart is for tn poor lit
tie brown divil, left all alone-alone."
Smithie threw back his head and
laughed aloud.
"Pwhat!" exclaimed Sevenspot, turn
ing fiercely, 'pwhat do yez foind SO
funny in a brave soldiers widow, be
she brown or black?"
"Sevenspotl" said Smithie, putting
restraining hand on his friends threat
ening arm. Don't get sentimental in
this climate. At least, don't get that
way till you know the ways and lingo
of the Tags. That was no death song.
Twas no keen. Twas love song. And
twas the poor little brown divil, Bills
Margarita, singing to her new husband.
She married him this afternoon. His
name is Yen Shee. Appropriate name.
too. In Chenoo it means Number Two.
He is the wealthy Chenoo banker at
Iloilo. Savey? If Bits white Marga-
rita in the Sammies was ditto girl.
too, he surely lost out against the love
game"
Just then the guitar across the way
thrummed again, and again a deep
chested alto began to chant a mourn fll
song full of tears and means and broken
hearts. Sevenspot leaned far out of the
easement and drew deep breath. His
big chest rose and swelled until the
arch of it touched his chin. Then he
roared and the candle lights of all Jaro
went out as If by the wind of his bel
lows.
shut up! Shut upl carambal Shut
up. before come and pull that epi-shack
about your earsi Ye female tarantulai"
The alto voice quivered and stopped.
The dimly outlined figures of man and
woman disappeared stealthily and cat
like within the door of the thatched
sh&cE. Across the plaza the bugle
sounded taps plaintively. The town
was silent and far-winged dreams of
home and white Margarita hovered
over the casas of the soldiers, to be dis
turbed now and again by the crack of a
Kakiack's remington or the bark of an
Americans krag, as the outposts took
sly pecks at each other through the
night.-N. 2. Sun.
Truly Terrible.