The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1901-04-04

4 'DumDartOn = drums beat bonnie y,
When they mind me of my dear Johnnie o
How happy am
When my soldier IS by.
While he kisses and blesses his Annie Of
Ills soldier alone can delight me o.
For his graceful looks do invite me o.
While guarded in his arms
I'll fear wars alarms.
Neither danger nor death shall e'er frigh
me OF
"My love is q handsome laddie o,
Genteel, bun ne'er foppish nor gaudy OF
| Though commissions are dear,
- Yet I'll buy him one this year,
For he'll serve no longer cadie OF
soldier has honor and bravery o,
cry OF
He minds no other thing
But the ladies or the king,
For every other care is but slavery OF
"Then III be the captains lady Of
| Farewell, all my friends and my daddy o
I'll wait no more at home.
But III follow with the drum,
And whene'er that beats I'll be ready o.!
Dumbarton's drums sound bonnie o.
They are sprightly like my dear Johnnie
How happy shall be
When my soldiers knee,
And he kisses and blesses his Annie OF"
Her voice was deep and true, and the
old war ballad was music in my ears.
AS the melody rose and fell in the lone.
ly night my eyes dropped again and my
brain became dim with advancing slum-
bers like child soothed to sleep by the
song of his mother. was as tired as a
dog. / had ridden long and far and had
worked much, and every nerve and
muscle in me cried aloud for rest, but ]
reused myself as she finished and the
last note Of her song died in the dark
ness.
THAT is proper military song, !"
said, land nobly sung, but l object to
the sentiments of your hero He minds
no other thing but the ladies or the
king. The ladies are all right, but nc
king Leave the king outp'
Old Put was stamping his feet again.
That's right, Put" said. ZAP
plaud the song, for it was well sung,
though you and 1, who are good Ameri-
cans, don't altogether like the senti-
ments That, l take it, is an old song
OF loyalty to the Stuarts. 1t is singular
thing to me how wholesome minded
English people can invest the Stuarts,
whom they kicked out of their country
with SO much romance and charm when
all history shows they were an utterly
debased lot, and nobody knows it better
than the English themselves. -
1.-The sentiments Of the song, king
and all, are perfectly correct, and I'll
sing that verse to you again."
She looked at me with look half of
defiance, half smile, and sang:
'My love is handsome laddie O.
Genteel, but ne'er foppish nor gaudy OF
Though commissions are dear,
Yet I'll buy him one this year,
For he'll serve no longer a cadie OF
a soldier has honor and bravery o,
Onacquainted with rogues and their knav-
cry o!
He minds no other thing
But the ladies or the king,
For every other care is but slavery or"
She sang it still more softly and gen
tly than before, and, though my eyelids
dropped again, turned my eyes from
the bed of Goals to her face. The fire.
light played ruddily over her eyes and
cheeks, and the expression there seemed
tender and PARKWAY, as if her thoughts
had gone from this dark night and the
war torn fields OF South Carolina to the
green English meadows and peaceful
sunshine.
When she finished, raised my hands
and clapped them together.
well doner' said. well donei,'
Done well enough for u.s." said
some one, and strong hands reached
over the log and grasped me by the
wrists. My languor and my sleepiness
were gone i'll an instant, and l made a
powerful effort to wrench myself loose.
but l had been taken too suddenly.
three or four men flung themselves
upon me, and was crushed under
great weight, while the firm grip was
still Oh my wrists. I managed to deal
somebody a heavy kick and heard
grunt OF pain. but in q few seconds
was overpowered and, like wise man.
ceased to struggle further.
Singularly enough, one of nv early
thoughts in that moment was of relief
that Old Put should prove not to be n
false prophet, having enjoyed such n
good character in that respect SO long
mad been fool not to take his warning
more seriously. Then l wondered why
the girl did not cry out at the sight Of
struggling men and the sound of oaths
ana blows, a violent medley usually
very terrifying to women. 1 caught one
glimpse OF her, and she was sitting on
the log, her back against the up thrust
Dough, leaning upon it as lazily as if
she We're in rocking chair in parlor
Inc freight still played over her face
and eyes, but the soft and tender ex-
preston which had pleased me was
gone. Instead the look that she turned
upon me was mixture of dislike
malice and triumph.
After meeting such glance it was a
'elief to me to look another way and
zee who had captured me.