On Picket Duty
What air you thinkin' of, Phil?"My wife, Dick.""So was I! Aint it odd how fellers fall to thinkin' of thar littlewomen, when they get a quiet spell like this?""Fortunate for us that we do get it, and have such gentle bosomguests to keep us brave and honest through the trials andtemptations of a life like ours."October moonlight shone clearly on the solitary tree, draped withgray moss, scarred by lightning and warped by wind, looking like avenerable warrior, whose long campaign was nearly done; andunderneath was posted the guard of four. Behind them twinkled manycamp-fires on a distant plain, before them wound a road ploughed bythe passage of an army, strewn with the relics of a rout. On theright, a sluggish river glided, like a serpent, stealthy, sinuous,and dark, into a seemingly impervious jungle; on the left, aSouthern swamp filled the air with malarial damps, swarms of noisomelife, and discordant sounds that robbed the hour of its repose. Themen were friends as well as comrades, for though gathered from thefour quarters of the Union, and dissimilar in education, character,and tastes, the same spirit animated all; the routine of camp lifethrew them much together, and mutual esteem soon grew into a bond ofmutual good fellowship.Thorn was a Massachusetts volunteer; a man who seemed too early old,too early embittered by some cross, for though grim of countenance,rough of speech, cold of manner, a keen observer would have soondiscovered traces of a deeper, warmer nature hidden, behind therepellent front he turned upon the world. A true New Englander,thoughtful, acute, reticent, and opinionated; yet earnest withal,intensely patriotic, and often humorous, despite a touch of Puritanausterity.Phil, the "romantic chap," as he was called, looked his character tothe life. Slender, swarthy, melancholy eyed, and darkly bearded;with feminine features, mellow voice and, alternately languid orvivacious manners. A child of the South in nature as in aspect,ardent, impressible, and proud; fitfully aspiring and despairing;without the native energy which moulds character and ennobles life.Months of discipline and devotion had done much for him, and somedeep experience was fast ripening the youth into a man.Flint, the long-limbed lumberman, from the wilds of Maine, was aconscript who, when government demanded his money or his life,calculated the cost, and decided that the cash would be a dead lossand the claim might be repeated, whereas the conscript would getboth pay and plunder out of government, while taking excellent carethat government got precious little out of him. A shrewd,slow-spoken, self-reliant specimen, was Flint; yet something of thefresh flavor of the backwoods lingered in him still, as if Naturewere loath to give him up, and left the mark of her motherly handupon him, as she leaves it in a dry, pale lichen, on the bosom ofthe roughest stone.Dick "hailed" from Illinois, and was a comely young fellow, full ofdash and daring; rough and rowdy, generous and jolly, overflowingwith spirits and ready for a free fight with all the world.Silence followed the last words, while the friendly moon climbed upthe sky. Each man's eye followed it, and each man's heart was busywith remembrances of other eyes and hearts that might be watchingand wishing as theirs watched and wished. In the silence, eachshaped for himself that vision of home that brightens so manycamp-fires, haunts so many dreamers under canvas roofs, and keeps somany turbulent natures tender by memories which often are bothsolace and salvation.Thorn paced to and fro, his rifle on his shoulder, vigilant andsoldierly, however soft his heart might be. Phil leaned against thetree, one hand in the breast of his blue jacket, on the paintedpresentment of the face his fancy was picturing in the golden circleof the moon. Flint lounged on the sward, whistling softly as hewhittled at a fallen bough. Dick was flat on his back, heels in air,cigar in mouth, and some hilarious notion in his mind, for suddenlyhe broke into a laugh."What is it, lad?" asked Thorn, pausing in his tramp, as if willingto be drawn from the disturbing thought that made his black browslower and his mouth look grim."Thinkin' of my wife, and wishin' she was here, bless her heart! setme rememberin' how I see her fust, and so I roared, as I always dowhen it comes into my head.""How was it? Come, reel off a yarn and let's hear houw yeou hitchedteams," said Flint, always glad to get information concerning hisneighbors, if it could be cheaply done."Tellin' how we found our wives wouldn't be a bad game, would it,Phil?""I'm agreeable; but let us have your romance first.""Devilish little of that about me or any of my doin's. I hatesentimental bosh as much as you hate slang, and should have been abachelor to this day if I hadn't seen Kitty jest as I did. You see,I'd been too busy larkin' round to get time for marryin', till acouple of years ago, when I did up the job double-quick, as I'd liketo do this thunderin' slow one, hang it all!""Halt a minute till I give a look, for this picket isn't going to bedriven in or taken while I'm on guard."Down his beat went Thorn, reconnoitring river, road, and swamp, asthoroughly as one pair of keen eyes could do it, and came backsatisfied, but still growling like a faithful mastiff on the watch;performances which he repeated at intervals till his own turn came."I didn't have to go out of my own State for a wife, you'd betterbelieve," began Dick, with a boast, as usual; "for we raise as finea crop of girls thar as any State in or out of the Union, and don'tmind raisin' Cain with any man who denies it. I was out on a gunnin'tramp with Joe Partridge, a cousin of mine,--poor old chap! he firedhis last shot at Gettysburg, and died game in a way he didn't dreamof the day we popped off the birds together. It ain't right to jokethat way; I won't if I can help it; but a feller gets awfully kindof heathenish these times, don't he?""Settle up them scores byme-by; fightin' Christians scurse raoundhere. Fire away, Dick.""Well, we got as hungry as hounds half a dozen mile from home, andwhen a farm-house hove in sight, Joe said he'd ask for a bite andleave some of the plunder for pay. I was visitin' Joe, didn't knowfolks round, and backed out of the beggin' part of the job; so hewent ahead alone. We'd come up the woods behind the house, and whileJoe was foragin', I took are connoissance. The view was fust-rate,for the main part of it was a girl airin' beds on the roof of astoop. Now, jest about that time, havin' a leisure spell, I'd begunto think of marryin', and took a look at all the girls I met, withan eye to business. I s'pose every man has some sort of an idee orpattern of the wife he wants; pretty and plucky, good and gay wasmine, but I'd never found it till I see Kitty; and as she didn't seeme, I had the advantage and took an extra long stare.""What was her good pints, hey?""Oh, well, she had a wide-awake pair of eyes, a bright, jolly sortof a face, lots of curly hair tumblin' out of her net, a trig littlefigger, and a pair of the neatest feet and ankles that ever stepped.'Pretty,' thinks I; 'so far so good.' The way she whacked thepillers, shooked the blankets, and pitched into the beds was acaution; specially one blunderin' old featherbed that wouldn't donothin' but sag round in a pig-headed sort of way, that would havemade most girls get mad and give up. Kitty didn't, but just wrastledwith it like a good one, till she got it turned, banged, and spreadto suit her; then she plumped down in the middle of it, with a sarcylittle nod and chuckle to herself, that tickled me mightily.'Plucky,' thinks I, 'better 'n' better.' Jest then an old woman cameflyin' out the back-door, callin', 'Kitty! Kitty! Squire Partridge'sson's here, 'long with a friend; been gunnin', want luncheon, andI'm all in the suds; do come down and see to 'em.'"'Where are they ?' says Kitty, scrambling up her hair and settlin'her gown in a jiffy, as women have a knack of doin', you know."'Mr. Joe's in the front entry; the other man's somewheres round,Billy says, waitin' till I send word whether they can stop. Idarsn't till I'd seen you, for I can't do nothin', I'm in such amess,' says the old lady."'So am I, for I can't get in except by the Error! Hyperlinkreference not valid. entry window, and he'll see me,' says Kitty,gigglin' at the thoughts of Joe."'Come down the ladder, there's a dear. I'll pull it round and keepit stiddy,' says her mother."'Oh, ma, don't ask me!' says Kitty, with a shiver. 'I'm dreadfullyscared of ladders since I broke my arm off this very one. It's sohigh, it makes me dizzy jest to think of.'"'Well, then, I'll do the best I can; but I wish them boys was toJericho!' says the old lady, with a groan, for she was fat and hot,had her gown pinned up, and was in a fluster generally. She wasgoin' off rather huffy, when Kitty called out,--"'Stop, ma! I'll come down and help you, only ketch me if I tumble.'"She looked scared but stiddy, and I'll bet it took as much grit forher to do it as for one of us to face a battery. It don't seem muchto tell of, but I wish I may be hit if it wasn't a right downdutiful and clever thing to see done. When the old lady took her offat the bottom, with a good motherly hug, I found myself huggin' myrifle like a fool, but whether I thought it was the ladder, orKitty, I ain't clear about. 'Good,' thinks I; 'what more do youwant?'"A snug little property wouldn't a ben bad, I reckon. Well she hadit, old skin-flint, though I didn't know or care about it then. Whata jolly row she'd make if she knew I was tellin' the ladder part ofthe story! She always does when I get to it, and makes believe cry,with her head in my breast-pocket, or any such handy place, till Itake it out and swear I'll never do so ag'in. Poor little Kit, Iwonder what she's doin' now. Thinkin' of me, I'll bet."Dick paused, pitched his cap lower over his eyes, and smoked aminute with more energy than enjoyment, for his cigar was out and hedid not perceive it."That's not all, is it?" asked Thorn, taking a fatherly interest inthe younger man's love passages."Not quite. 'Fore long, Joe whistled, and as I always take shortcuts everywhar, I put in at the back-door, jest as Kitty cometrottin' out of the pantry with a big berry-pie in her hand. Istartled her, she tripped over the sill and down she come; the dishflew one way, the pie flopped into her lap, the juice spatterin' myboots and her clean gown. I thought she'd cry, scold, havehysterics, or some confounded thing or other; but she jest sat stilla minute, then looked up at me with a great blue splosh on her face,and went off into the good-naturedest gale of laughin' you everheard in your life. That finished me. 'Gay,' thinks I; 'go in andwin.' So I, did; made love hand over hand, while I stayed with Joe;pupposed a fortnight after, married her in three months, and thereshe is, a tip-top little woman, with a pair of stunnin' boys in herarms!"Out came a well-worn case, and Dick proudly displayed the likenessof a stout, much bejewelled young woman, with two staring infants onher knee. In his sight, the poor picture was a more perfect work ofart than any of Sir Joshua's baby-beauties, or Raphael's Madonnas,and the little story needed no better sequel than the young father'spraises of his twins, the covert kiss he gave their mother when heturned as if to get a clearer light upon the face. Ashamed to showthe tenderness that filled his honest heart, he hummed "KingdomComing," while relighting his cigar, and presently began to talkagain."Now, then, Flint, it's your turn to keep guard, and Thorn's to tellhis romance. Come, don't try to shirk; it does a man good to talk ofsuch things, and we're all mates here.""In some cases it don't do any good to talk of such things; betterlet 'em alone," muttered Thorn, as he reluctantly sat down, whileFlint as reluctantly departed.With a glance and gesture of real affection, Phil laid his hand uponhis comrade's knee, saying, in his persuasive voice, "Old fellow, itwill do you good, because I know you often long to speak ofsomething that weighs upon you. You've kept us steady many a time,and done us no end of kindnesses; why be too proud to let us giveour sympathy in return, if nothing more?"Thorn's big hand closed over the slender one upon his knee, and themild expression, so rarely seen upon his face, passed over it as hereplied,--"I think I could tell you almost anything if you asked me that way,my boy. It isn't that I'm too proud,--and you're right about mysometimes wanting to free my mind,--but it's because a man of fortydon't just like to open out to young fellows, if there is any dangerof their laughing at him, though he may deserve it. I guess thereisn't now, and I'll tell you how I found my wife."Dick sat up, and Phil drew nearer, for the earnestness that was inthe man dignified his plain speech, and inspired an interest in hishistory, even before it was begun. Looking gravely at the river andnever at his hearers, as if still a little shy of confidants, yetgrateful for the relief of words, Thorn began abruptly,--"I never hear the number eighty-four without clapping my hand to myleft breast and missing my badge. You know I was on the police inNew York, before the war, and that's about all you do know yet. Onebitter cold night, I was going my rounds for the last time, when, asI turned a corner, I saw there was a trifle of work to be done. Itwas a bad part of the city, full of dirt and deviltry; one of thestreets led to a ferry, and at the corner an old woman had an apple-stall. The poor soul had dropped asleep, worn out with the cold, andthere were her goods left, with no one to watch 'em. Somebody waswatching 'em, however; a girl, with a ragged shawl over her head,stood at the mouth of an alley close by, waiting for a chance tograb something. I'd seen her there when I went by before, andmistrusted she was up to some mischief; as I turned the corner, sheput out her hand and cribbed an apple. She saw me the minute she didit, but neither dropped it nor ran, only stood stocks still with theapple in her hand till came up."'This won't do, my girl,' said I. I never could be harsh with 'em,poor things! She laid it back and looked up at me with a miserablesort of a smile, that made me put my hand in my pocket to fish for aninepence before she spoke."'I know it won't,' she says. 'I didn't want to do it, it's so mean,but I'm awful hungry, sir.'"'Better run home and get your supper then.'"'I've got no home.'"'Where do you live?'"'In the street.'"'Where do you sleep?'"'Anywhere; last night in the lock-up, and I thought I'd get inthere again, if I did that when you saw me. I like to go there, it'swarm and safe.'"'If I don't take you there, what will you do?'"'Don't know. I want to go over there and dance again, as I used to;but being sick has made me ugly, so they won't have me, and no oneelse will take me because I have been there once.'"I looked where she pointed, and thanked the Lord that they wouldn'ttake her. It was one of those low theatres that do so much damage tothe like of her; there was a gambling den one side of it, an eatingsaloon the other, and at the door of it lounged a scamp I knew verywell, looking like a big spider watching for a fly. I longed tofling my billy at him; but as I couldn't, I held on to the girl. Iwas new to the thing then, but though I'd heard about hunger andhomelessness often enough, I'd never had this sort of thing, norseen that look on a girl's face. A white, pinched face hers was,with frighted, tired-looking eyes, but so innocent; she wasn't morethan sixteen, had been pretty once I saw, looked sick and starvednow, and seemed just the most helpless, hopeless little thing thatever was."'You'd better come to the Station for to-night, and we'll see toyou to-morrow,' says I."'Thank you, sir,' says she, looking as grateful as if I'd asked herhome. I suppose I did speaks kind of fatherly. I ain't ashamed tosay I felt so, seeing what a child she was; nor to own that when sheput her little hand in mine, it hurt me to feel how thin and cold itwas. We passed the eating-house where the red lights made her faceas rosy as it ought to have been; there was meat and pies in thewindow, and the poor thing stopped to look. It was too much for her;off came her shawl, and she said in that coaxing way of hers,--"'I wish you'd let me stop at the place close by and sell this;they'll give a little for it, and I'll get some supper. I've hadnothing since yesterday morning, and maybe cold is easier to bearthan hunger.'"'Have you nothing better than that to sell?" I says, not quite surethat she wasn't all a humbug, like so many of 'em. She seemed to seethat, and looked up at me again with such innocent eyes, I couldn'tdoubt her when she said, shivering with something beside the cold,--"'Nothing but myself.' Then the tears came, and she laid her headdown on my arm, sobbing,--'Keep me! oh, do keep me safe somewhere!'"Thorn choked here, steadied his voice with a resolute hem! but couldonly add one sentence more:"That's how I found my wife.""Come, don't stop thar? I told the whole o' mine, you do the same.Whar did you take her? how'd it all come round?""Please tell us, Thorn."The gentler request was answered presently, very steadily, veryquietly."I was always a soft-hearted fellow, though you wouldn't think itnow, and when that little girl asked me to keep her safe, I just didit. I took her to a good woman whom I knew, for I hadn't any womenbelonging to me, nor any place but that to put her in. She stayedthere till spring working for her keep, growing brighter, prettier,every day, and fonder of me I thought. If I believed in witchcraft,I shouldn't think myself such a cursed fool as I do now, but I don'tbelieve in it, and to this day I can't understand how I came to doit. To be sure I was a lonely man, without kith or kin, had neverhad a sweetheart in my life, or been much with women since my motherdied. Maybe that's why I was so bewitched with Mary, for she hadlittle ways with her that took your fancy and made you love herwhether you would or no. I found her father was an honest fellowenough, a fiddler in the some theatre, that he'd taken good care ofMary till he died, leaving precious little but advice for her tolive on. She'd tried to get work, failed, spent all she had, gotsick, and was going to the devil, as the poor souls can hardly helpdoing with so many ready to give them a shove. It's no use trying tomake a bad job better; so the long and short of it was, I thoughtshe loved me; God knows I loved her, and I married her before theyear was out.""Show us her picture; I know you've got one; all the fellows have,though half of 'em won't own up.""I've only got part of one. I once saved my little girl, and herpicture once saved me."From an inner pocket Thorn produced a woman's housewife, carefullyuntied it, though all its implements were missing but a littlethimble and from one of its compartments took a flattened bullet andthe remnants of a picture."I gave her that the first Christmas after I found her. She wasn'tas tidy about her clothes as I liked to see, and I thought if I gaveher a handy thing like this, she'd be willing to sew. But she onlymade one shirt for me, and then got tired, so I keep it like an oldfool, as I am. Yes, that's the bit of lead that would have done forme, if Mary's likeness hadn't been just where it was.""You'll like to show her this when you go home, won't you?" saidDick, as he took up the bullet, while Phil examined the marredpicture, and Thorn poised the little thimble on his big finger, witha sigh."How can I, when I don't know where she is, and camp is all the homeI've got?"The words broke from him like a sudden cry, when some old wound isrudely touched. Both of the young men started, both laid back therelics they had taken up, and turned their eyes from Thorn's face,across which swept a look of shame and sorrow, too significant to bemisunderstood. Their silence assured him of their sympathy, and, asif that touch of friendlessness unlocked his heavy heart, he easedit by a full confession. When he spoke again, it was with thecalmness of repressed emotion; and calmness more touching to hismates than the most passionate outbreak, the most patheticlamentation; for the coarse camp-phrases seemed to drop from hisvocabulary; more than once his softened voice grew tremulous, and tothe words "my little girl," there went a tenderness that proved howdear a place she still retained in that deep heart of his."Boys, I've gone so far; I may as well finish; and you'll see I'mnot without some cause for my stern looks and ways; you'll pity me,and from you I'll take the comfort of it. It's only the oldstory,--I married her, worked for her, lived for her, and kept mylittle girl like a lady. I should have known that I was too old, toosober, for a young thing like that; the life she led before thepinch came just suited her. She liked to be admired, to dress anddance and make herself pretty for all the world to see; not to keephouse for a quiet man like me. Idleness wasn't good for her, it breddiscontent; then some of her old friends, who'd left her in hertrouble, found her out when better times came round, and tried toget her back again. I was away all day, I didn't know how thingswere going, and she wasn't open with me, afraid, she said; I was sograve, and hated theatres so. She got courage, finally, to tell methat she wasn't happy; that she wanted to dance again, and asked meif she mightn't. I'd rather have had her ask me to put her in afire, for I did hate theatres, and was bred to; others thinkthey're no harm. I do; and knew it was a bad life for a girl likemine. It pampers vanity, and vanity is the Devil's help with such;so I said No, kindly at first, sharp and stern when she kept onteasing. That roused her spirit. 'I will go!' she said, one day.'Not while you're my wife,' I answered back; and neither said anymore, but she gave me a look I didn't think she could, and Iresolved to take her away from temptation before worse came of it."I didn't tell her my plan; but I resigned my place, spent a week ormore finding and fixing a little home for her out in the wholesomecountry, where she'd be safe from theatres and disreputable friends,and maybe learn to love me better when she saw how much she was tome. It was coming summer, and I made things look as home-like and aspretty as I could. She liked flowers, and I fixed a garden for her;she was fond of pets, and I got her a bird, a kitten, and a dog toplay with her; she fancied gay colors and tasty little matters, so Ifilled her rooms with all the handsome things I could afford, andwhen it was done, I was as pleased as any boy, thinking what happytimes we'd have together and how pleased she'd be. Boys, when I wentto tell her and to take her to her little home, she was gone.""Who with?""With those cursed friends of hers; a party of them left the cityjust then; she was wild to go; she had money now, and all her goodlooks back again. They teased and tempted her; I wasn't there tokeep her, and she went, leaving a line behind to tell me that sheloved the old life more than the new; that my house was a prison,and she hoped I'd let her go in peace. That almost killed me; but Imanaged to bear it, for I knew most of the fault was mine; but itwas awful bitter to think I hadn't saved her, after all.""Oh, Thorn! what did you do?""Went straight after her; found her dancing in Philadelphia, withpaint on her cheeks, trinkets on her neck and arms, looking prettierthan ever; but the innocent eyes were gone, and I couldn't see mylittle girl in the bold, handsome woman twirling there before theError! Hyperlink reference not valid.. She saw me, looked scared atfirst, then smiled, and danced on with her eyes upon me, as if shesaid,--"'See! I'm happy now; go away and let me be.'"I couldn't stand that, and got out somehow. People thought me mad,or drunk; I didn't care, I only wanted to see her once in quiet andtry to get her home. I couldn't do it then nor afterwards by fairmeans, and I wouldn't try force. I wrote to her, promised to forgiveher, begged her to come back, or let me keep her honestly somewhereaway from me. But she never answered, never came, and I have nevertried again.""She wasn't worthy of you, Thorn; you jest forgit her.""I wish I could! I wish I could!" in his voice quivered an almostpassionate regret, and a great sob heaved his chest, as he turnedhis face away to hide the love and longing, still so tender and sostrong."Don't say that, Dick; such fidelity should make us charitable forits own sake. There is always time for penitence, always a certaintyof pardon. Take heart, Thorn, you may not wait in vain, and she mayyet return to you.""I know she will! I've dreamed of it, I've prayed for it; everybattle I come out of safe makes me surer that I was kept for that,and when I've borne enough to atone for my part of the fault, I'llbe repaid for all my patience, all my pain, by finding her again.She knows how well I love her still, and if there comes a time whenshe is sick and poor and all alone again, then she'll remember herold John, then she'll come home and let me take her in."Hope shone in Thorn's melancholy eyes, and long-sufferingall-forgiving love beautified the rough, brown face, as he foldedhis arms and bent his gray head on his breast, as if the wandererwere already come.The emotion which Dick scorned to show on his own account was freelymanifested for another, as he sniffed audibly, and, boy-like, drewhis sleeve across his eyes. But Phil, with the delicate perceptionof a finer nature, felt that the truest kindness he could show hisfriend was to distract his thoughts from himself, to spare him anycomments, and lessen the embarrassment which would surely followsuch unwonted confidence."Now I'll relieve Flint, and he will give you a laugh. Come on Hiramand tell us about your Beulah."The gentleman addressed had performed his duty, by sitting on afence and "righting up" his pockets, to beguile the tedium of hisexile. Before his multitudinous possessions could be restored totheir native sphere, Thorn was himself again, and on his feet."Stay where you are Phil; I like to tramp, it seems like old times,and I know you're tired. Just forget all this I've been saying, andgo on as before. Thank you, boys! thank you!" and with a grasp ofthe two hands extended to him, he strode away along the path alreadyworn by his own restless feet."It's done him good, and I'm glad of that; but I'd like to see thelittle baggage that bewitched the poor old boy, wouldn't you, Phil?""Hush! here's Flint.""What's up naow? want me tew address the meetin', hey? I'm willin',only the laugh's ruther ag'inst me, ef I tell that story; expectyeu'll like it all the better fer that." Flint coiled up his longlimbs, put his hands in his pockets, chewed meditatively for amoment, and then began with his slowest drawl--"Waal, sir, it's pretty nigh ten year ago, I was damster daown tewOldtaown, clos't tew Banggore. My folks lived tew Bethel; there wasonly the old man, and Aunt Siloam, keepin' house fer him, seein' asI was the only chick he hed. I hedn't heared from 'em fer a longspell, when there come a letter sayin' the old man was breakin' up.He'd said it every spring fer a number er years, and I didn't mindit no more'n the breakin' up er the river; not so much jest then;fer the gret spring drive was comin' on, and my hands was tew fullto quit work all tew oncet. I sent word I'd be 'long fore a gretwhile, and bymeby I went. I ought tew hev gone at fust; but they'dsung aout 'Wolf!' so often I wasn't scared; an' sure 'nuff the wolfdid come at last. Father hed been dead an' berried a week when I gotthere, and aunt was so mad she wouldn't write, nor scurcely speaktew me fer a consider'ble spell. I didn't blame her a mite, and feltjest the wust kind; so I give in every way, and fetched her raound.Yeou see I hed a cousin who'd kind er took my place tew hum while Iwas off, an' the old man hed left him a good slice er his money, an'me the farm, hopin' to keep me there. He'd never liked the lumberin'bizness, an' hankered arfter me a sight, I faound. Waal, seein' haow'twas, I tried tew please him, late as it was; but ef there wasennything I did spleen ag'inst, it was farmin, 'specially arfter thesmart times I'd ben hevin, up Oldtaown way. Yeou don't know nothin'abaout it; but ef yeou want tew see high dewin's, jest hitch onto atimber-drive an' go it daown along them lakes and rivers, say fromKaumchenungamooth tew Punnobscot Bay. Guess yeou'd see a thing ortew, an' find livin' on a log come as handy as ef yeou was born aturtle."Waal, I stood it one summer; but it was the longest kind of a job.Come fall I turned contrary, darned the farm, and vaowed I'd go backtew loggin'. Aunt hed got fond er me by that time, and felt dreadfulbad abaout my leavin' on her. Cousin Siah, as we called Josiah,didn't cotton tew the old woman, though he did tew her cash; but wehitched along fust-rate. She was 'tached tew the place, hated tewhev it let or sold, thought I'd go to everlastin' rewin ef I tooktew lumberin' ag'in, an' hevin' a tidy little sum er money all herown, she took a notion tew buy me off. 'Hiram,' sez she, 'ef yeou'llstay tew hum, merry some smart gal, an' kerry on the farm, I'llleave yeou the hull er my fortin. Ef yeou don't, I'll leave everycent on't tew Siah, though he ain't done as waal by me as yeou hev.Come,' sez she, 'I'm breakin' up like brother; I shan't wurry anyone a gret while, and 'fore spring I dessay you'll hev cause tewrejice that yeou done as Aunt Si counselled yeou.'"Now, that idee kinder took me, seein' I hedn't no overpaourin' lovefer cousin; but I brewdid over it a spell 'fore I 'greed. Fin'lly, Isaid I'd dew it, as it warn't a hard nor a bad trade; and begun tolook raound fer Mis Flint, Jr. Aunt was dreadf'l pleased; but 'mazinpertickler as tew who was goan tew stan' in her shoes, when she wasfetched up ag'inst the etarnal boom. There was a sight er lovelywomen-folks raound taown; but aunt she set her foot daown that MisFlint must be smart, pious, an' good-natered; harnsome she didn'tsay nothin' abaout, bein' the humliest woman in the State er Maine.I hed my own calk'lations on that pint, an' went sparkin' two orthree er the pootiest gals, all that winter. I warn't in no hurry,fer merryin' is an awful resky bizness; an' I warn't goan to be tookin by nobuddy. Some haouw I couldn't make up my mind which I'd hev,and kept dodgin', all ready to slew raound, an' hitch on tew ary onethat seemed likeliest. 'Long in March, aunt, she ketched cold, tooktew her bed, got wuss, an' told me tew hurry up, fer nary red shouldI hev, ef I warn't safely merried 'fore she stepped out. I thoughtthat was ruther craoudin' a feller; but I see she was goan sure, an'I'd got intew a way er considerin' the cash mine, so that it comehard to hear abaout givin' on't up. Off I went that evenin' an'asked Almiry Nash ef she'd hev me. No, she wouldn't; I'dshilly-shallyed so long, she'd got tired er waitin' and took tewkeepin' company with a doctor daown tew Bang-gore, where she'd benvisitin' a spell. I didn't find that as hard a rub to swaller, asI'd a thought I would, though Almiry was the richest, pootiest, andgood-naterest of the lot. Aunt larfed waal, an' told me tew tryagin; so a couple er nights arfter, I spruced up, an' went over toCar'line Miles's; she was as smart as old cheese, an' waal off intewthe barg'in. I was just as sure she'd hev me, as I be that I'mgittin' the rewmatiz a settin' in this ma'sh. But that minx, Almiry,hed ben and let on abaout her own sarsy way er servin' on me, an'Car'line jest up an' said she warn't goan to hev annybuddy'sleavin's; so daown I come ag'in."Things was gettin' desper't by that time; for aunt was failin'rapid, an' the story hed leaked aout some way, so the hull taown wasgigglin' over it. I thought I'd better quit them parts; but aunt sheshowed me her will all done complete, 'sceptin' the fust name er thelegatee. 'There,' sez she, 'it all depends on yeou, whether thatplace is took by Hiram or Josiah. It's easy done, an' so it's goantew stan' till the last minnit.' That riled me consid'able, an' Istreaked off tew May Jane Simlin's. She want very waal off, norextra harnsome, but she was pious the wust kind, an' dreadf'l cleverto them she fancied. But I was daown on my luck agin; fer at thefust word I spoke of merryin', she showed me the door, an' give meto understan' that she couldn't think er hevin' a man that warn't achurch-member, that hadn't experienced religion, or even ben struckwith conviction, an' all the rest on't. Ef anny one hed a wanted tewhev seen a walkin' hornet's nest, they could hev done it cheap thatnight, as I went hum. I jest stramed intew the kitchen, chucked myhat intew one corner, my coat intew 'nother, kicked the cat, cussedthe fire, drawed up a chair, and set scaoulin' like sixty, bein' tewmad for talkin'. The young woman that was nussin' aunt,--BewlahBlish, by name,--was a cookin' grewel on the coals, and 'peared tewunderstan' the mess I was in; but she didn't say nothin', onlyblowed up the fire, fetched me a mug er cider, an' went raound sokinder quiet, and sympathizin', that I faound the wrinkles in mytemper gettin' smoothed aout 'mazin' quick; an' 'fore long I made aclean breast er the hull thing. Bewlah larfed, but I didn't mind herdoin' on't, for she sez, sez she, real sort o' cunnin',--"'Poor Hiram! they didn't use yeou waal. Yeou ought to hev triedsome er the poor an' humly girls; they'd a' been glad an' gratefulfer such a sweetheart as yeou be.'"I was good-natered agin by that time, an' I sez, larfin' along withher, 'Waal I've got three mittens, but I guess I might's waal hev'nother, and that will make two pair complete. Say, Bewlah, willyeou hev me?'"'Yes, I will,' sez she."'Reelly?' sez I."'Solemn trew,' sez she."Ef she'd up an' slapped me in the face, I shouldn't hev ben morethrowed aback, fer I never mistrusted she cared two chips for me. Ijest set an' gawped; fer she was solemn trew, I see that with halfan eye, an' it kinder took my breath away. Bewlah drawed the greweloff the fire, wiped her hands, an' stood lookin' at me a minnet,then she sez, slow an' quiet, but tremblin' a little, as women hev away er doin', when they've consid'able steam aboard,--"'Hiram, other folks think lumberin' has spilt yeou; I don't; theycall yeou rough an' rewd; I know you've got a real kind heart ferthem as knows haow tew find it. Them girls give yeou up so easy,'cause they never loved yeou, an' yeou give them up 'cause yeou onlythought abaout their looks an' money. I'm humly, an' I'm poor; butI've loved yeou ever sence we went a-nuttin' years ago, an' yeoushook daown fer me, kerried my bag, and kissed me tew the gate, whenall the others shunned me, 'cause my father drank an' I was shablydressed, ugly, an' shy. Yeou asked me in sport, I answered inairnest; but I don't expect nothin' unless yeou mean as I mean. Likeme, Hiram, or leave me, it won't make no odds in my lovin' er yeou,nor helpin' er yeou, ef I kin.'"'Tain't easy tew say haouw I felt, while she was goin' on that way;but my idees was tumblin' raound inside er me, as ef half a dozendams was broke loose all tew oncet. One thing was ruther stiddier 'nthe rest, an' that was that I liked Bewlah morn'n I knew. I beguntew see what kep me loopin' tew hum so much, sence aunt was tookdaown; why I want in no hurry tew git them other gals, an' haow Icome tew pocket my mittens so easy arfter the fust rile was over.Bewlah was humly, poor in flesh, dreadful freckled, hed red hair,black eyes, an' a gret mold side er her nose. But I'd got wonted tewher; she knowed my ways, was a fust rate housekeeper, realgood-tempered, and pious without flingin' on't in yer face. She wasa lonely creeter,--her folks bein' all dead but one sister, whodidn't use her waal, an' somehow I kinder yearned over her, as theysay in Scripter. For all I set an' gawped, I was coming raound fast,though I felt as I used tew, when I was goin' to shoot the rapids,kinder breathless an' oncertin, whether Id come aout right side upor not. Queer, warn't it?""Love, Flint; that was a sure symptom of it.""Waal, guess 'twas; anyway I jumped up all er a sudden, ketchedBewlah raound the neck, give her a hearty kiss, and sung aout, 'I'lldew it sure's my name's Hi Flint!' The words was scurcely aout er mymaouth, 'fore daown come Dr. Parr. He'd ben up tew see aunt, an'said she wouldn't last the night threw, prob'ly. That give me ascarer the wust kind; an' when I told doctor haow things was, hesez, kinder jokin',--"'Better git merried right away, then. Parson Dill is tew come an'see the old lady, an' he'll dew both jobs tew oncet.'"'Will yeou, Bewlah?' sez I."'Yes, Hiram, to 'blige yeou,' sez she."With that, I put it fer the parson and the license; got 'em both,an' was back in less'n half an haour, most tuckered aout with theflurry er the hull concern. Quick as I'd been, Bewlah hed faoundtime tew whip on her best gaoun, fix up her hair, and put a coupleer white chrissanthymums intew her hank'chif pin. Fer the fust timein her life, she looked harnsome,--leastways I thought so,--with apretty color in her cheeks, somethin' brighter'n a larf shinin' inher eyes, an' her lips smilin' an' tremblin', as she come to me an'whispered so's't none er the rest could hear,--"'Hiram, don't yeou dew it, ef yeou'd ruther not. I've stood it agret while alone, an' I guess I can ag'in.'"Never yeou mind what I said or done abaout that; but we was marriedten minutes arfter, 'fore the kitchen fire, with Dr. Parr an' oaurhired man, fer witnesses; an' then we all went up tew aunt. She wasgoan fast, but she understood what I told her, hed strength tew fillup the hole in the will, an' to say, a-kissin' Bewlah, 'Yeou'll be agood wife, an' naouw yeou ain't a poor one.'"I couldn't help givin' a peek tew the will, and there I see notHiram Flint, nor Josiah Flint, but Bewlah Flint, wrote every whichway, but as plain as the nose on yer face. 'It won't make no oddsdear,' whispered my wife, peekin' over my shoulder. 'Guess itwon't!' sez I, aout laoud; 'I'm glad on't, and it ain't a centmore'n yeou derserve.'"That pleased aunt. 'Riz me, Hiram,' sez she; an' when I'd got hereasy, she put her old arms raound my neck, an' tried to say, 'Godbless you, dear--,' but died a doin' of it; an' I ain't ashamed tewsay I boo-hooed real hearty, when I laid her daown, fer she wasdreadf'l good tew me, an' I don't forgit her in a hurry.""How's Bewlah?" asked Dick, after the little tribute of respect allpaid to Aunt Siloam's memory, by a momentary silence."Fust-rate! that harum scarum venter er mine was the best I evermade. She's done waal by me, hes Bewlah; ben a grand goodhaousekeeper, kin kerry on the farm better'n me, any time, an' is asdutif'l an' lovin' a wife as,--waal as annything that is extradutif'l and lovin'.""Got any boys to brag of?""We don't think much o' boys daown aour way; they're 'mazin reskystock to fetch up,--alluz breakin' baounds, gittin' intew thepaound, and wurry your life aout somehaow 'nother. Gals naow dooswaal; I got six o' the likeliest the is goin', every one on 'em isthe very moral of Bewlah,--red hair, black eyes, quiet ways, an' amold side the nose. Baby's ain't growed yet; but I expect tew see itin a consid'able state o' forrardness, when I git hum, an' wouldn'tmiss it fer the world."The droll expressions of Flint's face, and the satisfied twang ofhis last words, were irresistable. Dick and Phil went off into ashout of laughter; and even Thorn's grave lips relapsed into a smileat the vision of six little Flints with their six little moles. Asif the act were an established ceremony, the "paternal head"produced his pocket-book, selected a worn, black and white paper,which he spread in his broad palm, and displayed with the air of aconnoisseur."There, thets Bewlah! we call it a cuttin'; but the proper name's asilly-hoot I b'leeve. I've got a harnsome big degarrytype tew humbut the heft on't makes it bad tew kerry raound, so I took this. Idon't tote it abaout inside my shirt as some dew,--it aint my way;but I keep it in my puss long with my other valleu'bles, and guess Iset as much stoxe by it as ef it was all painted up, and done off tokeell."The "silly-hoot" was examined with interest, and carefully stowedaway again in the old brown wallet which was settled in its placewith a satisfied slap, then Flint said briskly,--"Naouw, Phil, yeou close this interestin' and instructive meeting;and be spry, fer time's most up.""I haven't much to tell, but must begin with a confession which Ihave often longed but never dared to make before, because I am acoward.""Sho! who's goan to b'leeve that o' a man who fit like a wild cat,wuz offered fer permotion on the field, and wuz reported tewheadquarters arfter his fust scrimmage. Try ag'in, Phil.""Physical courage is as plentiful as brass buttons, nowadays, butmoral courage is a rarer virtue; and I'm lacking in it, as I'llprove. You think me a Virginian; I'm an Alabamian by birth, and wasa reb three months ago."This confession startled his hearers, as he knew it would, for hehad kept his secret well. Thorn laid his hand involuntarily upon hisrifle, Dick drew off a little, and Flint illustrated one of his ownexpressions, for he "gawped." Phil laughed that musical laugh ofhis, and looked up at them with his dark face waking into suddenlife as he went on:--"There's no treason in the camp, for I'm as fierce a Federalist asany of you now, and you may thank a woman for it. When Lee made hisraid into Pennsylvania, I was a lieutenant in the--well, never mindwhat regiment, it hasn't signalized itself since, and I'd rather nothit my old neighbors when they are down. In one of the skirmishesduring our retreat, I got a wound and was left for dead. A kind oldQuaker found and took me home; but though I was too weak to talk, Ihad my senses by that time, and knew what went on about me.Everything was in confusion, even in that well-ordered place; nosurgeon could be got at first, and a flock of frightened womenthee'd and thou'd one another over me, but hadn't wit enough to seethat I was bleeding to death. Among the faces that danced before mydizzy eyes was one that seemed familiar, probably because no capsurrounded it. I was glad to have it bending over me, to hear asteady voice say, 'Give me a bandage, quick!' and when none wasinstantly forthcoming to me, the young lady stripped up a littlewhite apron she wore, and stanched the wound in my shoulder. I wasnot as badly hurt as I supposed, but so worn-out, and faint fromloss of blood, they believed me to be dying, and so did I, when theold man took off his hat and said,--"'Friend, if thee has anything to say, thee had better say it, forthee probably has not long to live.'"I thought of my little sister, far away in Alabama, fancied shecame to me, and muttered, 'Amy, kiss me, good-by.' The women sobbedat that; but the girl bent her sweet compassionate face to mine, andkissed me on the forehead. That was my wife.""So you seceded from Secession right away, to pay for thatlip-service, hey?""No, Thorn, not right away,--to my shame be it spoken. I'll tell youhow it came about. Margaret was not old Bent's daughter, but aVirginia girl on a visit, and a long one it proved, for she couldn'tgo till things were quieter. While she waited, she helped take careof me; for the good souls petted me like a baby when they found thata Rebel could be a gentleman. I held my tongue, and behaved my bestto prove my gratitude, you know. Of course, I loved Margaret verysoon. How could I help it? She was the sweetest woman I had everseen, tender, frank, and spirited; all I had ever dreamed of andlonged for. I did not speak of this, nor hope for a return, becauseI knew she was a hearty Unionist, and thought she only tended mefrom pity. But suddenly she decided to go home, and when I venturedto wish she would stay longer, she would not listen, and said, "Imust not stay; I should have gone before.""The words were nothing, but as she uttered them the color came upbeautifully over all her face, and her eyes filled as they lookedaway from mine. Then I knew that she loved me, and my secret brokeout half against my will. Margaret was forced to listen, for I wouldnot let her go, but she seemed to harden herself against me, growingcolder, stiller, statelier, as I went on, and when I said in mydesperate way,--"'You should love me, for we are bid to love our enemies,' sheflashed an indignant look at me and said,--"'I will not love what I cannot respect! Come to me a loyal man, andsee what answer I shall give you.'"Then she went away. It was the wisest thing she could have done,for absence did more to change me than an ocean of tears, a year ofexhortations. Lying there, I missed her every hour of the day,recalled every gentle act, kind word, and fair example she had givenme. I contrasted my own belief with hers, and found a newsignificance in the words honesty and honor, and, remembering herfidelity to principle, was ashamed of my own treason to God and toherself. Education, prejudice, and interest, are difficult things toovercome, and that was the hottest fight I ever passed through,for, as I tell you, I was a coward. But love and loyalty won theday, and, asking no quarter, the Rebel surrendered.""Phil Beaufort, you're a brick!" cried Dick, with a sounding slap onhis comrade's shoulder."A brand snatched from the burnin'. Hallelujah!" chanted Flint,seesawing with excitement."Then you went to find your wife? How? Where?" asked Thorn,forgetting vigilance in interest."Friend Bent hated war so heartily that he would have nothing to dowith paroles, exchanges, or any martial process whatever, but bademe go when and where I liked, remembering to do by others as I hadbeen done by. Before I was well enough to go, however, I managed, bymeans of Copperhead influence and returned prisoners, to send aletter to my father and receive an answer. You can imagine what bothcontained; and so I found myself penniless, but not poor, anoutcast, but not alone. Old Bent treated me like a prodigal son, andput money in my purse; his pretty daughters loved me for Margaret'ssake, and gave me a patriotic salute all round when I left them, thehumblest, happiest man in Pennsylvania. Margaret once said to methat this was the time for deeds, not words; that no man shouldstand idle, but serve the good cause with head, heart, and hand, nomatter in what rank; for in her eyes a private fighting for libertywas nobler than a dozen generals defending slavery. I rememberedthat, and, not having influential friends to get me a commission,enlisted in one of her own Virginia regiments, knowing that no actof mine would prove my sincerity like that. You should have seen herface when I walked in upon her, as she sat alone, busied with thearmy work, as I'd so often seen her sitting by my bed; it showed meall she had been suffering in silence, all I should have lost had Ichosen darkness instead of light. She hoped and feared so much shecould not speak, neither could I, but dropped my cloak, and showedher that, through love of her, I had become a soldier of the Flag.How I love the coarse blue uniform! for when she saw it, she came tome without a word and kept her promise in a month.""Thunder! what a harnsome woman!" exclaimed Flint, as Phil, openingthe golden case that held his talisman, showed them the beautiful,beloved face of which be spoke."Yes! and a right noble woman too. I don't deserve her, but I will.We parted on our wedding-day, for orders to be off came suddenly,and she would not let me go until I had given her my name to keep.We were married in the morning, and at noon I had to go. Other womenwept as we marched through the town, but my brave Margaret kept hertears till we were gone, smiling, and waving her hand to me,--thehand that wore the wedding-ring,--till I was out of sight. Thatimage of her is before me day and night, and day and night her lastwords are ringing in my ears,--"'I give you freely, do your best. Better a true man's widow than atraitor's wife.'"Boys, I've only stood on the right side for a month; I've onlyfought one battle, earned one honor; but I believe these poorachievements are an earnest of the long atonement I desire to makefor five and twenty years of blind transgression. You say I fightwell. Have I not cause to dare much?--for in owning many slaves, Itoo became a slave; in helping to make many freemen, I liberatemyself. You wonder why I refused promotion. Have I any right to ityet? Are there not men who never sinned as I have done, and besidewhose sacrifices mine look pitifully small? You tell me I have noambition. I have the highest, for I desire to become God's noblestwork,--an honest man,--living, to make Margaret happy, in a lovethat every hour grows worthier of her own,--dying, to make deathproud to take me."Phil had risen while he spoke, as if the enthusiasm of his moodlifted him into the truer manhood he aspired to attain. Straight andstrong he stood up in the moonlight, his voice deepened by unwontedenergy, his eye clear and steadfast, his whole face ennobled by theregenerating power of this late loyalty to country, wife, and self,and bright against the dark blue of his jacket shone the picturedface, the only medal he was proud to wear.Ah, brave, brief moment, cancelling years of wrong! Ah, fair andfatal decoration, serving as a mark for a hidden foe! The sharpcrack of a rifle broke the stillness of the night, and with thosehopeful words upon his lips, the young man sealed his purpose withhis life.
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