The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-06-15

1 trouble. pleaded with a woman and l quarreled with a man. His life had | been bad one. though some of us never believed all told of him, hut now We heard 1t all from his own lips and pitied him., for tn his wandering talk | he told of things sacred even to a scoundrel. It was a simple tale of a | mans wasted life, the fruits of which had driven him to the army, but there | memory followed and made a bad sol- dier out of great strong material. - once he started 10 gambls-just as I had often seen him gamble, on the quiet at barracks; hand after hand he dealt and won and lost. Now he was telling favorite story over the liquor But he always came back to the had life and cursed in horrible strain him. self and those who had helped him to It; 1t made my blod run cold to listen Then he prayed, long, rambling, pleading prayer--a prayer for water. And just one hundred yards away was stream; we could hear the water ripple among the reeds, and by looking cautiously could see the sunlight 5 glint upon the surface-yet-in the same gIance-we could see the other ridge and the wheeling vulture. My Gawd! ha' mercy on me-per- maps -Sa10 man.
 He raised his head above the ridge top-there was puff of white and a furrow in the dry ground by his hand. He was but man of flesh and blood, so he crawled back again, and though he never went, he ws a hero, that fel- low.
 And as the shadows grew longer and the sun another tint of red the wound ed man started to sing. All out of tune 1t was, in a strange, unnatural shrilly voice, the words jumbled and twisted: Oh! eighteen hundred and six-ty-one, hurrah-hurrah!
 We all set out to follow-the drum hurrah-'rah!
 An we'll all be gay whe-en--- He stopped, and, gazing straight be- fore him. an ugly grin on his face, his voice sounding much the same as | when on a spree. said: Why can't they come and fight their own battles. They make speeches fast enough and stir it all up like a boiling | pot-round an round-an' talk of the | flag-an' of patriotism-while we come and gets drilled in the chest. They're all crooked-the whole set. An what's it all fer-ye go through a hot campaign with the brownies, | fightin' fer the flag while it starves yer an if they don't shoot ye dead-the flag brings we home in a leaky tub an there ye goes a-marchin' up the avenue. with the great white roof all | weller in the sun. A hot campaign and hole in the chest--fer yell from the crowd. thirteen per and a wave from ladys white handkerchief. An the corporal says Dress ranks!' and ye march like peacocks, while ahead the band plays:
 An we'll all be gay when Johnnie
 comes marching home,
 Oh! in eighteen hundred and sixty
 one. Hurrah! 'Rah!
 "Wot about us fellars wot don't march home; wot about the woman in the crowd, who. after the last rank files by. finds the band has lied?"
 His head went back, a yell from the up. Suddenly, sitting up straight, he
 bawled out:
 ''D-- 'em; they'll never march me up the ave-n-"
 It was summer ans the avenue lay all yellow in the waTm sunshine, while far ahead the majestic dome of the capitol loomed against the blue.
 Dress ranks" said the corporal. An we marched like peacocks," and the crowd on either side cheered and cheered, and the ladies waved their
 white handkerchiefs to the bronzed and wrinkled lines of men. Then a band played, and as I heard the faint tune. 1 thought of man we had lef, on the rock ridge, and I @'ked for s one the rock ridge. and looked for ( seemed as if could see again the wheeling vulture and the man sprawl ed out in the yellow dust. and could hear above the waters ripple among the reeds the strange whining song c:
 the wounded soldier.
 An we'll all be gay when Johnnie
 comes marchin' home"
 The man on my right must hse
 been thinking the same, for he said
 though the corporal growIed at him fol
 it:
 D 'em if they'll march me ui
 the avenue!'
 C CORD," by H. s. Garfield.