Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1917-08-05

A man died the other day. He was
an old man, but he never knew it.
Also, he was a hero, which he didn't
even suspect until he must have found
out when called by the One who told
us that greater love hath no man than
| that he lay down his life for friend.
The friend was also the mans master.
who owned every inch of his brown
| body until the day he dragged the
wounded soldier from Charlottesville.
And after that he was free. But ne
never knew that, either. for the bullet
| that furrowed across his brain sent him
to world of fantasy. where he lived
| from the green of sapling youth to the
biblical three score and ten. And, al
ways, he was happy.
he lived here you would know him by
the way he whitfield. If you We're a
selfish sort of person. intent on your
own affairs. he would pass you by
But being kindly faced he would halt
you with surprising information.
And if you were wise you would
know that nature had touched his brain
and said to him. Remain. forever.
child"
In the whimsy world in which he
lived the man was an Army officer. and
the thing he whitfield was always
sword or a gun. But he never spoke
of war. His heart turned to growing
thingsan agricultural instinct in
herited from generations of field slaves
and this was his only subject of dis
course.
one afternoon. for instance. his ad-
miration went out to a head of cab
bage which a small boy was carrying
in a basket. He stopped his tobacco
talk with a woman who had paused for
conversation. and smiled at the kid
with delight
That's a mighty fine punkin you got,
little boy"
The boy said it wasn't pumpkin. 1t
was a cabbage The colored mans
smile broadened into chuckle.
you know it's a punkin; you got 1t
from up in this tree: see emf?
The boy laughed derisively and skip
ped on. The colored man stopped
passing gentleman and submitted his
case.
ledge. don't you see them punkins
CROWN up in this tree?"
The ledge, 4 middle-aged man, who
looked if he might be OF some con-
sequence in this world looked up to the
greenery above. as if seriously consid-
ering the situation.
That little boy, he couldn't see 'em.
because he don't know any better. but
you see EN- don't you, jedge? See them
big punkins. an all them curly vines.
an them little yeller blossoms an them
big green leaves? You see 'em. don't
you. jedge?'
tree to look at the man. Then he voiced
an opinion.
Sure. see them. Mighty fine pump
kins, at that
Il knew you could. jedge. You've got
the kinder seem eyes L like. sir
No wonder he liked them. for they
were the eyes of Abou Ben Adhern, the
man who loved his fellow men.
That was a longiSh time ago. and now
it may bet just may be-that an in
telligence lost at Charlottesville has
been found somewhere among green
fields and pastures new. You never
can tell. ,
Not this side of the wall through which |
man has never yet found . peephole
People seldom mean harm; they just |,
do it, which is the only excuse to be made |
for the human hive that swarmed around 1
a man the other afternoon. The man was
sprawled on the bricks, and a crutch !
living alongside attested to the inability \
of wood to adapt itself to the intricacies
of the grapevine twist.
The mans distorted foot obviously |
added to the humor of the situation.
Every time he tried to scramble up on
his crutch and failed. the crowd-made up
Of decent looking citizens, sport suit or
two, feminine gender, and rag-tags of the
usual run-snickered in hilarious unison.
When he dashed around in aimless rage
the entire push, men, women and rag-l
when at last he began to whimper that he
wanted his wife-well. sir. 1t was as good
as q show. |
1t didn't seem to occur to anybody
around to be thankful for his own good
test or for the strength-phystcal. IL not