Mower County transcript., 1904-10-19

You'd have thought something was
wrong If you'd been here George an
swered lightly. y
Hanks was at his desk munching a
piece Of cracker and now and then
taking a sip. of water from a thick,
unclean tumbler. He had no comments
to make. If the building had been half
demolished during the night he would
have inspected the ruin with supreme
Indifference, for it was not his per-
sonal property. Half an hour later a
man and woman came down the
street and entered the warehouse.
The woman was short and fat, wore
t black sunbonnet and a heavy gray
shawl. The man carried a worn Con-
federate flag in his left hand, in his
right a battered army bugle.
"Jeff's nanny an daddy" Kenner
said "My Lord, they got here quick!
I reckon somebody must "a told 'em
the news last night"
"Come on in, old woman" Truitt said
to his wife. Nobody hain't a-goin' to
hurt YOU" He took the chair Ken
ner was proffering and placed, it near
the stove. Then he leaned unsteadily
on the short staff of the furled flag.
The bugle ratified on the brass buttons
of his long overcoat as his arm hung
down.
'"The camp meets today" he said
!; huskily, "but l hain't blowed a note
yit, an hain't stuck up the flag. The
boys will wait on OF Bas this mornin'
| wish some O. my tried comrades could
be here to listen to what l got to say.
George Buckley, I'm goin' to speak to
you, sir"
George had flushed all over with en-
door, but out of the corner of his
eye he had caught glimpse of a
woman's figure in the main doorway.
The thought flashed through his brain
that it was Mrs. Hillyer or Hortense
Snowden, and he wanted to direct Hill
yer's attention thither, but with set,
expectant features the merchant was
staring at the speaker.
Jeff told us jest how it happened"
Truitt went on, his earnest eyes half
| full of tears, "an' me an my old wom-
an felt like we wanted to see. to look
!. at, the man that saved our child. Thar
he is, Matilda; thar he is! Thar's the
chap that stood up in the teeth O that
ragn' mob an said ef they got our
boy it I'd be over his dead LcGy. George
Buckley done it. He'-the Oil man y
voice sank SO low for 4 nlOlnteilt that
| it was scarcely a1Jible-''he done it.
! I wish God would help me talk, but he
won't, an l cayn't. I had lots to say,
| but l cayn't talk. l want to show
what I feel, but l cayn't. l lowed
, that "a man that fit fer Jackson an
| Lee an Davis was good enough, but
a man blessed by a high place in the
world that stoops down an offers his
life fer pore, weak, scared boy is bet
tern a soldier. He's more like God
than a soldier. He's actuated by love
an pity, while the soldier is fghtin'
fer spite. II jest wish God would
give me q chance to show what feel.
Matilda, eff you want to say anything,
say it. YQre old mans made a fool of
hisself!'
'Oh, don't, don't, Mrs. Truittv' George
protested as the old woman pushed
back her bonnet and began to speak,
but she went on.
II cayn't say what I want to, moth
er," she sobbed, "but I kin pray fer
you, George, an I will. I hope the
Master will shower blessings down ON
yore head. I've knowed i'm, gentle
men, sence he was little boy, an he
always was one O. the best children
that ever lived. God knows he's had
trouble, but it jest seems to "a sanct1-