Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1945-06-08
CHAPTER Xxx


was GAR. funeral, he would put
on his old blue uniform and stand
by the grave; then he would come
home and hang the uniform in the
closet till next time.
He wrote no more at all. Phebe's
letters always ended, "Your father
says to come home whenever you
can"
The inevitable happened. One day
failing. Phebe."
No one came to meet me at the
depot; there was no one to swing
my grip. But when got out of the
jitney, Phebe was at the door to
meet me, looking old and worn, her
eyes still framed in the gold glasses.
Hes been asking all morning when
you'd get here"
The old gentleman was in the
north room, in the house south of
the water tower, in the walnut bed
he had brought in from the farm.
His knotted, misshapen hands were
on the outside of the covers. He
held his hand out to me and said
in faint voice, "I'm glad to see
you, son: I guess you got in on
the 8:10."
At the foot of the bed, next to the
south wall, was the old tin, camel
back trunk had taken to the uni
versity. It was now covered with
horse blanket, and sat down on
it.
His face was drawn, but his eyes
were as blue as ever. The same
spirit of mutual understanding we
had always when we got together,
after being separated, leaped up.
All the questions we're about me.
"How is your wife, Homer?" "What
kind of weather have you been hav-
in back East?"
1t was not long before he began
to talk about the farm. Homer,
you've got a good farm there" The
poignancy touched me. He was re-
leasing his hold on the farm. "Some
of them laughed at me when got it
because there wasn't any timber on
it, but it worked out pretty WE'LL"
A CLEAN in his eyes there, for now he
had the best farm in the neighbor-
hood. "Your mother was always
awful fond of you" He was not one
to pay compliments himself, and l
realized that he was also saying
this for himself.
He spoke of events of years ago
as if they had just happened. Once
dashy-dresSed drummer for a nur-
sery had come to our house, driving
a housekeeping livery team, and
and introduce him to the farmers.
For which he would pay my father
five dollars day-a fortune. And
now my father spoke of it.
''I'm glad 1 didn't take it."
He had to rest and l crept out of
the room for while. When looked
in again his blue eyes were still
open.
81 wish you'd pare my finger
nails"
And now I realized something that
touched me. He had never been a
man to show open marks of affec-
ton, such as putting his arm around
me, as l have seen so many fathers
do to their children. But now in
these last hours he wanted the
feel of his son. had sense enough
to make the pairing of the nails last
as long as / could.
1--WE got my GAR. suit hangin'
in the closet. I've always been
proud of it."
His eyes closed; after a while
they opened. "Do you remember
the time I bought the buffalo robe
for Christmas for your mother?"
nodded, choked with feeling.
He wanted to do something for me,
as if it was some final fatherly touch.
"Phebe and have good feather
bed upstairs we're not usin'. How
would you like to have it,"
I explained as gently as could
that people in New York did not
use feather beds.
II suppose not" he said with a
sigh.
1t was not long before he was
back to the farm. cts all, free
and clear. It's been my ambition
to leave it to you that way and
that's what I'm doing. Don't ever
put mortgage on it. They eat like
q cancer"
The time came when must go
back, and went in and sat on the
camel-backed trunk for the last
time. Finally when the moment
came, shook his gnarled hand.
"Take care of yourself, Homer" 1t
was the last thing he ever said to
me.
After I had been back about a
week, I got word that the end had
come. I could not 60 to the funeral
:. only in my thoughts.