The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1903-08-13

and looked up and down the white
sand road. He heard the crunch of
wheels and presently man whis-
tling. The sound seemed to bring
him out of his isolation. He was still
in world where men could whistle.
He stepped out into the road as the
wagon drew up. The driver stopped
his horses suddenly and said in
gruff, but not unfriendly, tone:
'Mornin."
Good morning"
What do you want, comm round
skeerin' my hosses so early in the
morning."
"A ride in your wagon and some
thing to eat"
The man took from under the
wagon seat some pieces of bread and
meat and a bottle of coffee.
II keep n perambulatin' house er
entertainment. Breakfus' fer two eff
you wan ter bring friend, an
trained walters. Furrin languages
spoke. Guests rekested not ter fee
The walters. All perkisites b'long
ter the boss. All you want now is
fire ter warm it by an somebody ter
perside at the bar, which I'm him"
There was CLINT of honesty in the
rugged face and frank tone in the
voice that inspired confidence, and
Jim led the way to where his wound
ed friend lay.
"Purty as n picter. I'd like ter set
him up on the mantel piece ter look
at, but in a storm I'd rather tie ter
you"
He so far yielded to the universal
dominance of the picturesque as to
kindle the fire and heat the break
fast for the wounded boy.
81 alters goes pervided; no tellin'
what might turn up"
"You had brought IL for yourself,
and now you are giving it away"
said Jim, who had arrived at stage
where the claims of his fellowmen
began again to appeal to him.
That's nothin'. Anybody along
the road'll give me a lunch. Most of
'em expect ride in my wagon some
time. 1t alters makes folks gen'rous
hearted to you fer you ter have
sump'n they wants"
"Now, you fellers CANT stay hyer,"
he said after the breakfast was fin
ished. Its dangerous. Somebodyll
come along an nab you en-, leastwise,
my hotel is the only trav'lin one in
these parts, an when it moves on you
won't have no feed" Thar's n place
down hyer on the road whar you'd
be safe 'nough. I'll take you thar
They's Yanks en- you's rebs, take it,
but they amt people to go back on
feller what's wounded, ner one ats
takin' keer er the unfort'nit."
"Yes; we're rebs. What are you?"
I'm teamster," replied their host,
with fine air of neutrality.
They stopped in front of a cottage
with rose vine growing over it and
pink roses peeping out brightly. A
great Newfoundland dog sleeping in
the yard arose and came to the gate,
wagging his tail in friendly way.
Here we are" said the teamster,
lifting the boy out. AS he carried
him up the steps, confident of the
welcome he did not stop to ask, a
girl came out on the portico.
"How are you, Rosalyn? You see
I've brought you a Johnny reb to
take care Of"
The girl frowned darkly.
"How dare you call him names?
Maybe he was that when he fought.
When he is wounded he is a southern
soldier"
"She has brown eyes," thought
Shivers, looking at her with long,
slow glance through half shut eyes.
She was not defiant now, but gentle
and sympathetic, and Shivers thought
she had tears in her eyes when she
looked at him. He could not see
well. He was dazed by fatigue and
the pain of his wound. Even as he
looked at her he drifted off into un-
consciousness.
When he came back to the world
the soft eyes still looked compassion
ately at him. His thought went back,
cropping for memory of her.
you are the girl who waved the
flag at me-"
"Oh, but I wouldn't if 1 had known
that you would be wounded. I'm so
sorry"
Sorry that I am wounded?"
"Yes, and that / waved the flag"
81 am not sorry for that; 1 rather
liked it. Perhaps l am not so sorry
for being wounded as was some
hours ago"
His wound had been skillfully
dressed and the pain was lessened.
Through window opposite his couch
he looked out into mesh of pink
blossomed vines above which was
CLINT of blue sky, sun-bathed. And
the soft eyes yet looked at him sor-
rowfully. Small wonder that his grief
was assuaged.
July dreamed into August, August
drowsed into September, September
awakened the world to a new life