The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1908-07-16

of spring was il the air. The thrushes
sang III the branches and the sparrows
twittered on the dusty surface Of the
road. All nature smiled. But Mr..
Henry Cadgitt did not He had ex-
perienced n lamentable chapter of &C
cidelts since he had left the workhouse
where he had spent the night For ex-
ample, man had offered him work.
And though an elderly lady whom he
had approa che1 with request for a
meal had given him one, she had pro-
tested that he looked i'll, and had stool
over him while he drank n whole tum-
bier OF cvld camomile tea. 1t was in
vain that he had assured her that the
recommending hot whisky and water
for his complaint, She favored her
own prescription. Small wonder then
that natures smile awoke no answering
emotion In his breast. Indeed, as lie
hobbled along the path. ne got it into
his head that she was smiling at him
and her lcTity did nothing to improve
his temper.
Mr.. Cadgitt was venerable in years.
though not in appearance. Few would
have taken him for more than sixty.
though he had passed that age by ten
long years. No, doubt his comparative
youthfulness was due to the care with
which, during long life, he had re-
Trained from labor. True, he was al
was equally careful not to find one.
Already the sun was high in the
heavens. and he began to think about a
second meal. A little before him the
village OF Sunnydale nestled in the val
ley. AS he entered it, cottage upon
his right hand attracted his attention
1t was small. but wonderfully neat.
The lilac and hawthorn were in bloom
about it, and the garden was bright
with spring blossoms. Seated in n
chair by the door was an old man of
venerable appearance. His face. though
lined with years. was free from care
His white beard flowed down his
breast. Upon his coat medal with
four clasps glittered in the sunlight
He sat IN dreamy meditation, putting
idly at short clay pipe. He was more
than venerable; he was even a noble
old man.
Mr.. Cadgitt approached, and leaned
over the hedge.
"Mate," he said. you 'avn't a bit o
baccy as you could spare to poor
bloke wot's down on is luck?'
The veteran waved him away males.
tically.
Go away" he said, II don't give tc
beggars."
dim chord of memory in Mr.. Cadgitt':
mind.
''Well, I'm blowed." he said, too as
tonished to go more fully into the de
tails of that process. eff it aint Sam
Snider! Wot cheer, Sam? Who'd ave
thought of meeting you ERE? You've
been getting on in the world, blowed
If you 'aven't, I'D never ave known
you if you admit spoke"
The veteran looked annoyed.
II don't know you" he said. &c
away, l tell you. Don't come here dis
turbing an old soldier wat as fought
for his country
Mr.. Cadgitt grinned.
"Wherei" he asked. concisely.
"In the Crimea," replied the other
proudly. "Alma. Inkernan. Balaclava
Sebastopol." He fingered the clasps
OH his medal with loving care.
For a moment Mr.. Cadgitt was i'm
pressed. His jaw dropped, and he
looked hard at the occupant of the cot
tage as though he half thought he had
made a mistake. Then he grinneC
again, and raised his finger impressive
ly.
AT the time of the Crimean war,
he said, slowly, you were selling win
kles from a barrier in Seven Dlals
Wots the little game, Sam? 1t amt nc
use trying to get round me. Don't yor
round on pal. and / WON'T
He pushed aside the little wicket
gate and entered the garden. The vet
eran looked at him with every symp
tom Of annoyance; and then, as ;ht
readiest way of getting rid of him
owned up.
II don't mind telling YOU" he said
IF you'll promise not to give it away
I was tramping the country same a:
you are now. when ] met the owner oil
this ere medal. Poor chap, e died by
the roadside. and the parish buried i'm
| didn't see what use they had for his
medal. so | took it, By-and-bye,
came to this village. There were an
old lady here. and she seen me wearing
1t. She stopped me in the street, and
asked me all about Il. She 'ad a hus
band when she was young that 'ad got
killed out there. | told 'er 'Ow | 'aC
saved the guns at Inkerman and
charged at Balaclava later it come out
that 'er husband 'ad died in my arms
After that she couldn't do enough fol
me. Ten shilling n week she gives
rae, and this cottage to live in. It's ;
good lay If you're up to it. You take
my tip and try 1t on when you get fan
enough from ere"
II WILL said Mr.. Cadgitt, Will
fervent admiration. 40 think of your