The Savannah morning news., 1903-10-04
CHAPTER XVII.

THE PRICE OF SILENCE.
1t was the misfortune of Mr.. Cum
mings final literary Offering to annoy
one of the editors friends. The Journal
was brought to the new corporal at
noon, while he was considering whether
he should rise from his couch or sleep
another hour. Reclining among his
pillows, he glanced through Cum
mings description with the subGued
giggle he always had for the good Will
liam's style, but as his eye fell upon
one paragraph he started, sat upright,
and proceeded to read the passage sew
erals times with anxious attention.
"Only two or three sources of regret
occurred to mar the delight Gin which
young and old participated) of that fes-
tai and dazzling scene. One was the abb
sence of Miss Fanchon Bareaud, one of
the donors; another, that of Corpl.
Gray; a third was the excessive mod
esty of Maj. Nanrevel, who, although
present at the time, refused to receive
the ladies' sumptuOus Offering and in
sisted that Capt. Marsh was the prop
er person to do the honors, to which
the latter reluctantly, though graceful
ly, consented. Also, we were sorry that
the major appeared in citizens dress,
as all were anxious to witness him in
his uniform. However, in our humble
judgment, he will be compelled by eti-
quette to don It this afternoon, to re-
ceive the officers of the regular army,
who will arrive by the stage about 5
o'clock, it is expected, to inspect the
company and swear them into the serv-
ice of the federal government at the
Court House. We, for one, have little
doubt that, owing to the majors we'll
known talent in matters of apparel,
his appearance will far eclipse in bril-
liancy that of his fellow officers"
Crailey dressed slowly, returning to
the paper, now and then, with per-
turbed countenance. How would Miss
Betty explain this paragraph to herself,
and how account for the fact that she
had not seen Crailey, how for the fact
that she had seen Tom? 1t seemed I'M
likely that she could have overlooked
the latter--Tom was one of those whom
everybody saw, wherever he went. And
what inquiries would she make? For
Crailey had no means of knowing that
she would not see the Journal. To-mor-
row he would be gone, it would be all
over but he wanted this last day to
run smoothly. What wild hopes he had
of things that should happen when they
all came marching home, no one can
say; even if it We're not to be doubted
that Crailey ever entertained hopes of
any kind whatever, since to hope is to
bestow thought upon the future.
But, however affairs ran with him so
far as hope was concerned, he seldom
lacked an idea; and one came to him
presently, a notion that put the frown
to rout and brought the old smile to
his lips, his smile of the World-worn
and tolerant prelate. He flicked the pa
per lightly from him, and it sped across
the room like big bird in aw kward
flight. For he knew how to preserve his
last day as he wished, and to make
all smooth.
He finished his toilet with particular
care, took a flower from a vase on his
table, placed it in his coat, and went
down to the dusty street, where every
thing was warm and bright with sum-
mer 1t was JOY to be alive: there was
wine enough in the air; and Crailey
made up his mind not to take a drink
that day-the last day. The last day!
The three words kept ringing through
his head like minor phrase from
song. Tomorrow, at noon, they would
be churning down the river and this
was the last day-the last day!
Still not too late to make another
friend at home" he said, stopping to
pat the head of a NANCY street cur that
came crouching and wobbling toward
him like staveless little key worried
by scurries of wind. Dogs and children
always fell in love with Crailey at first
sight, and he never failed to receive
them in the spirit of their approach.
Now the mongrel, at his touch. imme-
diately turned himself over and lay
upon the pavement with all paws in
air, to say: Great lord, ma gnifcent
in the graciousness which deigns to cast
a glimpse upon this abject cluster of
ribs, / perceive that your heart is too
gentle to kick me in my present help
lessness; yet do with me as you will"
II doubt if you've breakfasted, broth
err" Crailey responded aloud, rubbing
the dogs head softly with the tip of
his boot. will you share the meagre
fare of one who is a poet should be a
lawyer but is about to become a SOL
der? Eli. but a corporal! Rise. my