Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1915-11-18

office after the shTiehs of the whistle
had warned her that the tri-weekly
river packet had come and gone. Four
times during the year she heard from
Jason. Each time he was doing we'll and
wanted one The first time Jason's
mother sold her mahogany hat box to
the storekeeDer's wife. The second time
the cameo pin went to the docto! S
wife. The third time she could send
nothing, she wrote Jason-and she
wrote in deep contrition. for she knew
that Jason was half starving himself
and worked hard The fourth letter was
urgent.
Tn going into the army, mother.
There's q wonderful chance for sur
geons 10Y l must have 500. though.
to buy into partnership with DR.. Ed
wards before l go. That assures me of
a good berth as soon as the war is
over. I think you had better sell Pill
grim. You really don't need him, and
you can get 500 for him easily, if you
sell him to the government. Mr.. Inch
pin would tend to it for YOU
Jason's mother read the letter
heavily. 1t was November again. The
river packets would not make many
more trips. Drearily the Kentucky hills
rolled back from the river and drearily
the Ohio valleys stretched inland. Old
Pilgrim plodded patiently toward his
stable and his mistress huddled in tt
saddle, unheeding until Pilgrim
stamped impatiently at the Stable door.
Then she dismounted and the great
horse stamped into his stall.
Il know that 1 don't need you. Pill
GRIM" h said. It's just that you are
like a living bit Of father-and if Jason
would only seem to understand that, it
wouldn't be so hard to let you go. l
wonder if all young folks are like ia
SOM"
Old Pilgrim leaned his head over his
stall and in the November cleaning
he looked long at his mistress with his
wise and gentle eyes. 1t was as if he
would tell her that he lar learned that
youth is always a little hard; that only
long years in harness with always the
back breaking load to pull, not for
oneself. but for others, can make the
really grateful heart. One OF the sweet
deep cCmpensations Of the years, the
old horse seemed to say. is that graft
tude grows in the soul.
So Jason and Old Pilgrim both went
to war. They did not see each other,
but each one. in his own way. made a
brilliant record. Pilgrim learned the
sights ard sounds and smells of war.
The fearful pools of blood ceased to
send him plunging and rearing in har-
ress. The screams Of utter fear or Of
liz a oSoIS 1o lOll6cl Set Iliul "
neighing or sweating in sympathy.
Pilgrim. superb in strength and superb
in intelligence. plodded efficiently
through a battle just as he had plodded
efficiently over the circuit of Jason's
Methodist father.
And Jason. coo n clear headed,
with his wonderful long strong hands.
sawed and sewed and probed and
purged his way through field hospital
after field hospital. until the men be-
gar to hear Of his skill and to ask for
him when the fear of death was on
them His work absorbed him more
and. more. until months Went by, and
he neglected to write to his mother!
Just why. who can say? Each of us,
looking into his heart, perhaps can
find some answer. But Jason was
young. and work and world hungry.
He did lot ask himself embarrassing
questions. The months slipped into a
year. and the first year into a second
year. Still Jason did not write to his