Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1901-10-03
Why Tom Crowder
Rc=efIiisfcd
" JOHN Il. RAFFERTY,.

~ OCAN IL INAL LIN l.
z. :
.:-:-:c -: -. :-..-.-I: - -: :si
Six months Of soldering in the Phil
ipplncs had taken all the edge off Tom
CrowGcr's military ardor. In year
the sight Of khaki uniform hurt his
eyes. AM Ice began TO realize that in all
the world 10 village was so fair to look
upon as SC=a" Creek, Ills, the home
town where rrowtcr & Sons kept store
and w.4cy@ th" event of each droning
day was "t~airtin!c." When two years
had al".osi passed. be began to dream
Of swinging under the elms in the old
front yard ut home and wondered rs he
nibblcd at tie everlasting hard tack how
many p:ttcd cherry pies he could eat at
one s,;;.ng in the dining room at home.
When young soldiers mind begins
to dwell on the pies that mother used
TO make he canlot flourish on SOW
belly. But when he begins 10 decorate
his tent wall with the photographs OF
Tillie and Sue and 'the folks" he's fit
for nothing but furlouGhs and sick
leave, and if there's anything of the
quitter about him he's in imminent dam
ger OF forgetting to answer roll call
some dark evening when the music or
the sea beyond the jungle lures him
with false songs of home. Tom heard
the siren voice all right, but he didn't
lure a little bit. His term of enlistment
was almost at an end, and he satis=
fled himself with blOtting each dull day
off the calendar, writing doggerel verse
about Tillie and making himself a nui-
sance generally to his bunkie.
He used to swear rolndly that he
meant to hike back to Sugar Creek
as fast as ship and train could carry
him, and hoped by all that was holy
that once he was mustered out he'd
never see a soldier again. He got to
be the worst "knocker" in the CON-
pany, and he wrote so many letters
that his comrades began to ask him
why he didn't write few to himself.
"If you got such a good home and
swell people, why don't some of 'em
write to you?" sneered his tent mate
one night You can't be very strong
with Tillie, or she'd write you at least
once year."
Now the latter question was a sore
one with Tom, because nobody wrote
to him except his mother, and her let
tiers seldom reached him during the
final months of his campaigning in the
interior. He had quarreled with his
brother so many times that no love
was lost between them, and his father
didn't write for the good reason that
he didn't know how. AS for Tillie, the
young soldier had no reason to expect
letters from her, When he left home,
she was only 16, and his affair" with
her was of the long distance, incoming,
mental sort peculiar to boys and girls
Just out of high school. If Tom had
been perfectly fair in his introspection,
he must have admitted that there was
nothing very tangible in his hopes with
regard to Tillie. He told himself a
thousand times that she was ''the one
girl" and coddled himself with the
belief that his fealty to her was little
short of heroic, and that by some mys-
tcrious telepathic sympathy she must
by this time be pining away for his
return.
He wasn't ''in love" when he enlist
ed, but he had her picture and his
mothers, and by natural process Of
longing for home he developed quite a
fierce and yearning passion for Tillie.
A hundred times he began letter to
her, but he never had the nerve to
init fo1c
fences and tent poles and wrote her
name a dozen times on every scrap Of
paper that he could find. He sang it,
spelled ii aud whistled 1t till his soul
was In fine frenzy, and he knew by
heart the long speech Of proposal that
he meant to whisper into her little pink
,ar the first time he could get her
alone in the swing or on the narrow
seat of dads spring wagon.
So when Tom got back to Manila and
regular mails" he was stirred by an
unreasonable hope that there would
be at least one letter from Tillie. He
was disappointed, but not disheartel-
cd, to find nothing but three old mis-
siyes from his mother, in which there
was not word of his hearts delight
and volume of motherly advice about
the care he should take of himself, the
things he should eat and drink, the
comrades he should avoid and the
prayers he should say. Her latest let
ter was full of the "time they would
give him" when he got home, and 1t
concluded with the hint of n great
surprise" that was in store for him.
or course that put new zest into his
"honing for home" and his hatred for
the army rose in proportion,
The whole town was at the station
when Tom swung off the train steps at
Sugar Creek. The Silver Cornet band,
with old Bill Tomlinson, shake and all,
at its head, was standing on the plat
form playing "See, the Conquering
Hero Comes" Great flags waved above
the depot, and yards of bunting stretch
ed clear across the street from Crow
der's grocery store to the town hall.
Tom almost fell into the arms Of his
mother. Even his brother Jim seemed
to have forgotten all differences and
hugged him. But, best of all, there
was Tillie, quite a woman now, pref
tier than ever, blushing furiously and
holding his hand as she had never held
it before and holding up her radiant
face to be kissed as often as he liked.
The small boys yelled "Hooray for Tom
Crowderw old man Crowder shed tears
OF joy, prominent citizens wearing
badges marked Reception" ushered
the hero into n carriage, and as Tom
was whisked away to the mayors resi-
dence for brief carnival of speech
making and handshaking the band
played "There'll Be Hot Time In the
Old Town Tonight"
Bu, II ali seemed too long to the re
surned hero. He felt very proud and
happy of course. He bowed to the