The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1915-11-18

herl How'd you get your training az a
surgeon? Who paid for it2 Your ia
ther7"
Jason redeemed. ''well, no; father
woe a poor Methodist preacher. Mother
raised the money. though worked for
my board mostly" ...a.. A.. 49,.
YES, how'd she raise the money!"
Jason's lips were stiff. Selling
things, Mr.. President"
What did she SELF" E..
Fathers watch--the old silver tea
pot-the mahogany hat box-the st.
Bartholomew candlestick. Old things
mostly; beyond use except in muse
ums."
Again silence in the room, while a
look of contempt gathered in Abraham
Lincoln's eyes that scared Jasons cool
young soul till 1t scorched within him.
You poor fool" said Lincoln. You
poor worm! Her household treasures
one by one-for you. Useless things
fit for museums!' oh, you fool!'
Jason flushed angrily and bit his
lips. Suddenly the president rose and
pointed a long. bony finger at his desk.
Come here and sit down and write q
letter to your mother!"
Jason stalked obediently over and
sat down in the presidents seat. Ang-
er and modification were i'll inspira-
tons for letter writing, but under Lin
coins burning eyes Jason seized a pen
and wrote his mother a stilted note.
Lincoln paced the floor, pausing now
and again to look over Jason's should
err aAddrs.. T. and civ. - to msp ,a,a
the president. 'I'l see that 1t gets to
her" Then his stern voice rising
a little: And now, Jason wilkins, as
long as you are in the army, you write
to your mother once a week. II have
reason to correct you on the matter
again. I'll have you courtmartialed."
Jason rose and handed the letter to
the president, then stood, angry and
silent, awaiting further orders. Abra-
ham Lincoln took another turn or two
up and down the room. Then he'paused
before the window and looked from it
a long, long time. Finally he turned
to Jason.
my boy," he said gently. "there is
no finer quality in the world than
gratitude. There Is nothing a man can
have in his heart 80 mean, so low as in
gratitude. Even a dog appreciates q
kindness, never forgets a soft word, or
a bone. To my mind, the nobIest holt
day in the world Is Thanksgiving. And,
next the Creator, there is no one the
as to mothers"
Again Lincoln paused, and looked
from the boyish face of the young sur
geon out of the window at the bleak
November skies, and Lincoln said to
Jason, with God knows what tragedy Of
memory in his lonely heart:
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky;
Thou dost not bite so nigh
AS benefits forgot"
Another pause. you may go, my
boy" And Lincoln shook hands with
Jason. who stumbled from the room,
his mind a chaos of resentment and
anger Ha mazda his waV down Penn
sylvania avenue, pausing as two army
officers rode up to q hotel and dis
mounted, leaving their horses. Some
thing about the big gray that one Of
the officers rode seemed vaguely IA
miliar to the young doctor. The gray
turned his small, intelligent head to-
ward Jason, then with a sudden soft
whinny, laid his head on Jason's
shoulder and nuzzled his cheek gently.
Jason looked at the right fore shoulder.
A three-cornered scar was there. Jason
and Old Pilgrim never had met but
once, and yet-Jason was little more
than a boy. Suddenly he threw his
arms around Old Pilgrims neck, and
sobbed into the silky name. Passers-
by glanced curiously and then went on
Washington was full Of tears those
dayA
Pilgrim whinnied and waited pa
tiently. Finally Jason wiped his eyes.
I'll buy you back from Captain Win
ston. Pilgrim. I'll get a furlough, If
I have to ask the president himself.
Well get home to mother for Thanks
giving, Pilgrim. We will, II God will
let my unworthy hulk live that long"
And Pilgrim, with a scar on his right
fore shoulder, and Jason with the scar
on his soul that only remorse imprints
there. started that evening for Creep
Valley.