Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1919-02-07

! Syndicatel
10
One sunny afternoon our guns crew
was sitting on the fire step of front
line trench, just in front of CONNIE
court wood.
Happy Houghton was busily engaged
in rigging up flash screen to hide the
flare of our gun, which we were to
mount on the parapet that night.
Sailor Bill was sewing a piece of
khaki cloth over his tin hat, because
the night previous, while on sentry
go, standing in the moonlight, with his
head over the top the rays from the
moon had reflected from his steel he'll
met and couple of German bullets
feet of his head.
AS was usual with him, Hungry Fox
craft was wrestling with a tin of bully
beef, while "Curly" Wallace was hunt
ing for coolies.
key Honey, with our mascot, Jim,
was sitting on the fire-step, his back
leaning against the traverse of the fire.
bay, picking mud out of his harmonica
with a silver of wood. Jim seemed
happy and contented, not knowing the
fate in store for him. Two days later
poor Jim was killed by a German bull
let and we buried him behind the lines,
placing a little wooden cross at the
head of his grave. After working
few minutes at the harmonica, Ikey
would pause, put it to his lips and
blow into it; squeaky, rattly noise
resulting. Then, with deep sigh, he
would resume the picking process.
l had just finished letter home and
was signing for the time to come when
once again I would be able to say "hel-
lo'' to the old girl with the lamp in her
right hand guarding New York har-
Dor.
Although it was warm and sunny,
the floor of the trench was about three
inches deep in soft, sticky mud.
On my right / heard low mutter-
ing and a splaShing in the mud, and
around the traverse, into our firebay,
carrying a box of ammunition on his
shoulder, came the most weird-looking
soldier had ever seen. AS he passed
in front of me he turned his gaze in
my direction and a cold Shiver seemed
to run up and down my spine as
looked into his eyes. They were I'M
canny; a sort of vacant stare, as if the
owner of them was looking into the
Great Beyond. AS this soldier stag
gered through the fire-bay, almost bend
ing double under the weight of the
ammunition and passed from view
around the traverse, it seemed to me
as if the Grim Reaper had stalked
through.
Shuddering q little, 1 instinctively
turned my eyes in the direction of the
rest of the crew. They were also
staring at the traverse around which
the gloomy-looking soldier had dis
appeared.
Ny heart sank to zero and had
sinking sensation in the region of my
stomach, and on the parados in front
of me, like a moving picture on
screen, flashed a cemetery, dotted all
over with little wooden crosses. I felt
queer and uneasy.
Curly Wallace, in a low, half-fright-
ened voice, exclaimed:
"Blime me, that was 'Aunted Jerry's
brother, the one who clicked it by the
old lone tree. If you blokes want TO
get the creeps you ought to ear i'm
talk. Some o. the fellows claim that
it's unlucky to get i'm started. They
sye that one o. is carers is sure to
click in within a few days time, but
if you fellows want to tyke the
chance. I'll go over to lis section, which
is occupying the second firebay on our
left, and see if | can get i'm to tell
us about is brother. But, now mind,
this fellow is little balmy in is nap
per, so don't myke fun of i'm
confess that / was glad to be rid
of him, but my curiosity overcame my
fears, so I asked Curly to go ahead.
The rest of the crew weakly assented,
and Curly went after Jerry's brother.
In about twenty minutes he returned
with him. Jerry's brother came over
and sat on the firestep next to me. He
sat silent for q few minutes, and then,
In a thick piping, high-pitched voice
spoke:
$50 you want to ear about Jerry, do
you? They called him ''Aunted jerry
but he weren't 'aunted: he could just
see could see into the future;
could sort o. tell what was agoin' to
,appen. e could talk to the dead,
and they told i'm. r always 'ad
spirits around 'im-ghosts, you call
'em, but there amt no such thing as
ghosts - they're souls awanderin'
around; they're about us now
slowly eased down the firestep away
from him.
"Jerry used to talk to the dead: e
woulc sit in a cemetery at night while
in rest billets. and receive messages
from them what can't speak no more.
sometimes, lyte at night. can ear
Car aw'y. voices calm to me. but as