Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1902-02-20


But his question went unanswered.
The straggly line of men emerged
from the shadow and came to where
they could see the white huts of San
Pedro glaring in the tropical sun.
Seems to me there's somethin' ago
In on down there" said Martin.
'There just is that" replied Harri-
son, shading his eyes from the sun and
gazing at the towns gate.
"Derned if / don't believe it's the
reserve that's come up"
'Too good to be true, and, besides,
Parsons, you're always believin' and
dreamin' things"
''But If it is maybe We'll go to some
place farther down the coast. Maybe
we'l see somethin' new. Maybe
"Well. amt you done with may
bein'?"
The tall man looked at the questioner
and replied slowly:
"And maybe We'll go homer
1t seemed to stun the lot of them.
One gasped and turned pale. Home!
They had never given that thought.
Home? While the rebels were yet
hiding in the bush and the war in prog
ress? Then fellow who never did
anything of note before began to sing
to wonderful tune of his own:
''We're goin' home! We're goin' home!
Our ship is at the shore.
And you can pack your haversack,
Fur we won't come back no more.
Oh, we won't come back more, my boys,
We won't come back no more!"
and the whole rank took up the burden
Of the chorus:
"oh, we won't come back no more, my boys,
We won't come back more!
With quickened step, born of the
swinging meter of the song, the
Twelfth marched to the towns little
gate. The hot sun, the tropical smell,
the petty ills and the quinine were all
forgotten in their curiosity to learn
why a strange sentry paced forward
and back before the place. Like so
many statues they waited for the
lieutenant to reappear from the COM
mander's hut. He came out with a
smile on his face.
ue l. IWelllu Is mustered out.
A yell went skyward that made the
vines rustic, and above all the rest
big Connolly bawled:
"Hurrah! Hurrah! We're goin'
home"
Five men surrounded pair of the
new guard and begged from them an
old newspaper.
LOOK here. Connolly
what? Newspapers? Gimme one!
What find. A newspaper
"S'pose you almost forgot there was
such thing"
perhaps. See if there's anything
from home"
''Home? Where d'you live anyway,
Connelly?"
Gloucester"
"Why, that's in Massachusetts"
"Of course, dummyhouse! Look fer
the news, will you?"
whats the date? Five months old,
this paper! Gloucester-Gloucest
here 'tis-Gloucester:
0AGA AAAAC0 dt thC tOHA AdAA AeAot
night'-now that's what I call an in-
teresting piece of news, SEEM as we
don't know what a killin' is. George
Hall convicted Of stealin' from Nathan
Forrest'-that sounds like home
'Marriage'-that's very homelike-'Bill
Thompson dead; leaves forty thousand
dollars That's all, Connolly, from
Gloucester"
'Humph! Who's married?"
"Lemme see-'Miss Bessie Williams
and'"-
"You lie! Let me see thatv'
"What In the name of nation is the
matter with you, Connelly?'
you're right, Parsons, that's all!
That's all!'
And big Connolly, the man with an
intense longing for home, bent down
his head and walked with a swagger
to the far end of the town.
The next morning, when the bugle
called the men of the Twelfth from
the dingy white huts, they sprang
forth with alacrity.
"We're mighty slim crowd COM
pared to all that came up, amt we?'
"Well, l should say! There was Sam
Johnson and Jerry Patterson, Bill
Williams, Harry Carter-but what's
the use in countin' 'em ?-all gone, and
good boys, too, all good boys. But,
then, that's what we listed fur"
"And we're the lucky dogs! Wouldn't
be one of them fellers what's come to
relieve us-no, not fer a cool million.
Would you, ConnellyY
ST don't know" replied Connolly
wearily.
"You don't knoww
''No, don't know"
Then the bugle blared again. The
tall man turned and walked to the
lieutenant and sa1uted:
"Well, Connelly?"
'T-I think I'd like to stay and enlist
with the other regiment sir-and-and
stay out the war. You see'-
The face of the lieutenant became as
a stone mask and for a moment he
stared fxedly. Then, remembering his
rank, he said kindly:
'If you think so, Connolly, you may
report to Major Southern"
The Twelfth marched out and the
last man, looking back from distant
hill. saw forlorn figure watching by
the old gate. He waved last fare
well to the man in the sun painted
landscape. A fellow by his side start
ed to hum again the song of the swing
ing meter:
''oh, we're goin' homel We're goin' homeI
Our ship is at''-
"Oh, shut upt' growIed out the man.
The skeleton of the Twelfth, minus
one of the larger bones, marched on in
silence.
Houses and Superstitions.