The Washington herald., 1913-04-20

know few wrinkles do, too. He
gave me a five-dollar bill after he'd
talked awhile to me. and one Of his own
cigars. Remember the towns back Of
you" says he. IT'S, too. I'd letter
| from the committee they got there, ask
ing If we had everything; offering to
| pay for nurses If they'd be allowed. Oh,
it's bully town.
Spruce himself had never known the
sweets of local pride. He had drifted
about in the world until at twenty
he drifted into the regular army. He
had no kindred except a brother whose
| career was SO little creditable that
Spruce was relieved when 1t ended-were
the truth known, in a penitentiary. He
had an aunt of whom he often spoke
and whom he esteemed credit to the
family. She was a widow woman in
an Iowa village. who kept a boarding
house for railway men. and had reared
a large family, not one of whom (Spruce
was accustomed to explain In moments
OF expansion, on payday, when his
heart had been warmed with good red
liquor had ever been to jail Spruce
had never seen this estimable woman,
but he felt on terms of intimacy with
her, because, occasionally, on these same
pay days, he would mail her a IS bank
note. the receipt of which was always
Il
could spell most of her words correctly,
and who always thanked him for his
kind and welcome gift" told him what
they proposed to do-with the money,
and invited him to come to see them.
He always meant to go, although he
never did go. 1t was his favorite air
castle, being able to go on furlough to
the village where his aunt lived and
show his medal. He had won the medal
in an Indian fight where he had rescued
his captain. The captain died of his
wounds and Spruce never got drunk
(Which I regret to confess he did often
err than was good either for his soul
or the service) that he didn't talk about
his captain, who had been his hero;
and cry over him. Spruce, who was a
CHEEKY creature in his normal state, al
ways developed sentiment and pathos
when he was revealed by liquor. Now
he had another day-dream. 1t was to
be greeted by the cheering crowds
again he would march down the sunny
streets with the band playing amid the
faces and the shouts. And the mem who
had stood by the company so stanchly
would be pointing him out and telling
each other his mythical exploits-and
adding the record of his Indian exploits
which Spruce felt that an inattentive
a
times a day he pictured the scene, he |
listened to the talk-he, walk |
ing with a rigid and unseeing military |
mien. He Appropriated the number Of |
glasses man could take without even |
grazing indecorum-for he was deter |
mined he would not be riotous in his !,
joy-and he used to whistle the refrain |
Of a convivial song:
Emily yourselves. emily yourselves
But don't do no disgrace!
Meanwhile, his consciousness Of in |
some way caring for the whole company
held him a model of sobriety In fact,
he did take care of the company,
secretly instructing the captain in the
delicacies Of military etiquette and
primitive sanitary conditions, and OPEN
~ showing the commissary sergeant
how to make acquisitions and barter
his superfuous rations for acceptable
canned goods at the groceries Of the
town. He explained all the regulars
artless devices for being comfortable; he
nended the boys morals and their
olouses in the same breath; and he in
,uleated all the regular traditions and
'uperstitions. But it is to be confessed
again. that while Spruce was living
aboriously UP to his lights OF righteous
hess under this new stimulus, the Lights
we're rather dim; and, in particular, as
egards the duty of a man to pick up
outlying portable property for his COM
would have shocked a pc
ice magistrate. Neither did he rank
Lmong the martial virtues the ornament
# meek and quiet spirit. "A good
aptain is always kicker" says Spruce
irmly; he's got to be. Look at this
lere camp, captain; the mess tents all
nder water; we're standing in the slush
very damned meal we eat. Waters I'M |
Ter our tent, water" II
Il know, / know, sergeant" inter- I
upts the perplexed and worried young
"a plain, a clever young dandy bright j
nough to be willing to take wisdom s