Decorah public opinion. (Decorah, Winneshiek County [Iowa]) 1895-1928, 1901-06-12
PICKETS.
A Realistic Story of the
Civil War.
-~D~-
BY ROBERT w. CHAMBERS.

III 1duh.
"Shut up!" replied Alden, wrigglins
to the edge of the rifle pit Connor also
crawled little higher and sauinteC
through the chinks Of the pine logs.
"Hey, Johnny" he called across the
river "are you that clay eatin Cracker
with green lamps on your pilot?
"Oh, Yank, are yew the U. s. mewl
with G. s. A. brand on yewr head.
stall?
He had you there Connor," obsery-
ed Alden, with faint interest
Conner took off his blue cap and ex-
amined the bullet hole In the crown.
&c. s. A. brand on my headstall. Ell ~
ne repeated savagely, twirling the cap
between his dirty fingers.
"You called him a clay eatin Crack
err" observed Alden, land you referred
to his spectacles as green lanterns on
his pilot"
I'll show him whose headstall is
branded" muttered Connor, showing
his; smoky rifle through the log crack. (
Alden slid down to the bottom Of the
shallow pit and watched him apathet-
ically.
The silence was intense The muddy
river, smooth as Oil, swirled noiselessly
between its fringe Of sycamores. Not
a breath Of air stirred the leaves
around them. From the sun baked bot
tom OF the rife pit came the stale
smell Of charred logs and smoke soak
ed clothing. There was stencil of
sweat In the air, and the heavy odor Of
balsam and pine seemed to intensity
It. Alden gasped once or twice, threw
open his jacket at the throat and stuff
ed filthy handkerchief into the crown
of his cap, arranging the ends as a shell
ter for his neck.
Conner lay silent, his right eye fas-
tened upon the rifle sight, his dusty
army shoes crossed behind him. One
yellow sock had slipped down over the
worn shoe heel and laid bare dust be- !
grimed ankle.
In the heated stiffness Alden heard |
the boring of weevils in the logs over
head. A tiny twig snapped somewhere
In the forest; a fly buzzed about his |
knees. Suddenly Connor's rifle crack
ed, the echoes ratified and clattered |
away through the woods, thin cloud |
of pungent vapor slowly drifted |
straight upward, shredding into filmy
streamers among the tangled branches
overhead.
SECT him% asked Alden after a ST.
lence.
"Nope," replied Connor. Then he ad.
dressed himself to his late target
across the river:
Hello. johnny
"Hi, Yank!'
How close?"
"HeyY
How close?"
what, sonnyY
MY shot, you FOOL"
why, sonny" called back the Con-
federate In affected surprise. twas yew
a-shootin at me?'
Bang went Connor's rifle again. A
1erisive catcall answered him, and he
turned furiously to Alden.
"Oh. let up!' said the young fellow.
It's too hot for that"
Conner was speechless with rage,
IND he hastily jammed another car
ridge into his long. hot rifle, while Al
len reused himself, brushed away a
persistent fly and crept up to the edge
" the pit again.
Hello, Johnnyv' he shouted.
THAT you. sonny" replied the Con-
ederate. q
yes. Say. Johnny, shall we call it q
quare until O'Clock? 2" q
what time is itT" replied the eau
ious Confederate. "All our expensive
old watches Is bein repaired at Chick t
manga"
At this taunt Conner showed his r
eeth, but Alden laid one hand ON his I
nm and sang out: ITS 2 O'Clock, Rich
nond time. Sherman has Just tele- d
raphed us from your statehouse." Il
WAL. In that case this crool war is
YER" replied the Confederate sharp p
hooter. "We'll be easy on old Sher-
lan."N n
See here!" cried Alden. as II
'uce until o'clock p Is
AN right! Your word, Yankv u
you have itv'