Stack 
 
 Annex 
 
 PS 
 
 3523 
 
 L8555w
 
 . OF CALIF. LIBRARY, LOS AHGELES
 
 cn- 
 0*0-- 
 
 OR 
 
 WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ONE LOVES ONE S ENEMY 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN LUTHER LONG 
 
 Author of 
 
 MADAME BUTTERFLY 
 THE FOX-WOMAN, ETC , ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
 
 N. C. WYETH 
 
 INDIANAPOLIS 
 
 THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT 1913 
 THE BOBBS-MERMLL COMPANY 
 
 BHAUNWORTH A CO- 
 BOOKBINDERS AND PRINT1 
 BROOKLYN. N. .
 
 To him who loves the woman- 
 Who loves some one else. 
 ) to the woman! 
 
 2131072
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PACK 
 
 I WHEN DAVID AND JONATHAN FISHED . . 1 
 II WHAT THE TENTH SHELL AT SUMTER 
 
 CAUSED 11 
 
 III WHAT WAS GOING ON IN VIRGINIA ... 16 
 
 IV IN LINCOLN S PEN ...... 20 
 
 V ABOUT THE LOVE GAME 25 
 
 * VI UNDER THE PLUM TREES 43 
 
 VII \VHO WAS LUCAS MALLORY? .... 57 
 
 VIII DAVE 66 
 
 IX WHEN EVELYN CAME 76 
 
 X THE PICNIC 83 
 
 XI OF THE CHANGE WHICH DAVE BROUGHT . 96 
 
 XII DAVE S BUSINESS 106 
 
 XIII WERE THERE UNIONS OR CONFEDERATES IN 
 
 HARG S WOODS? 124 
 
 XIV BETSY S PIES AGAIN 129 
 
 XV WHAT WAS THE TAPESTRY OF PENELOPE? . 136 
 
 XVI EVELYN S SPOOL 148 
 
 XVII C. S. A 153 
 
 XVIII WHAT Is GREATER THAN PATRIOTISM? . . 163 
 
 XIX WHAT JONATHAN FOUND TO TAKE HER 
 
 PLACE 173 
 
 XX MORE MYSTERY 192 
 
 XXI THE FRENZY OF EVELYN 198 
 
 XXII THE WEDDING MARCH To THE PUMP 
 
 TROUGH 213
 
 CONTENTS Continued 
 
 CHAPTER PAGB 
 
 XXIII LUCAS MALLORY AT LAST 220 
 
 XXIV A FAVOR TO SHOOT HER 224 
 
 XXV ORDER NUMBER 249 238 
 
 XXVI TANKOO 243 
 
 XXVI T His SHARE OF GLORY 255 
 
 XXVIII WHERE OUR CLUB MET 260 
 
 XXIX THE LAST DAY 271 
 
 XXX THE SACRIFICE 280 
 
 XXXI THE COST WHO PAYS 289 
 
 XXXII ON DAVE S BED ....... 307 
 
 XXXIII To THE FRONT 314 
 
 XXXIV THE PITY OF IT 330 
 
 XXXV HOME, SWEET HOME 339 
 
 XXXVI As GRASS OF THE FIELD 350 
 
 XXXVII THE LETTER DAVE WROTE 354 
 
 XXXVIII PEACE 361 
 
 XXXIX AJTKB IHB STORY 364
 
 MY oldest boy s name was Jonathan, 
 and the youngest David though they 
 weren t called that anywhere but in the family 
 Bible just Jon and Dave. Except when peo 
 ple got the Bible and the boys mixed up and 
 called them David and Jonathan sometimes 
 David and Goliath! 
 
 Jon was the oldest and Dave the youngest 
 and there was four years between. Jon didn t 
 seem to care much for anybody else after Dave 
 was born, and Dave never inquired if he had 
 any parents as long as Jon took charge of 
 him. Well I have to acknowledge that Jon 
 made a better daddy to Dave than I did. Dave s 
 i
 
 WAR 
 
 mother died when he was born and I took it 
 hard. Didn t notice, like I ought, what was go 
 ing on. But Jonathan took entire charge of 
 Dave. He d carry the little chap, before he yet 
 could walk, a couple of miles on his back and fix 
 him fast in the fork of a tree while he fished. 
 And when they got home he d swear that Dave 
 had caught all the fish. And they d all have to 
 be cooked minnies just an inch long, some 
 times! which always made a fuss between 
 Jon and Betsy, the cook. 
 
 Yes, Jon was a good fisherman, and a 
 good boss. He always got his way. But it 
 was by gentleness. He used to preach to me, 
 his own daddy, when he got older, about gen 
 tleness being stronger than anger, because, I 
 suppose, I used to break glass when I got mad. 
 
 Only one ever got away with Jon s gen 
 tleness by kicking, and that was little Dave. 
 Why, when he grew old enough to fish him 
 self, he never caught a thing and he ruined 
 Jon s reputation as a fisherman. He couldn t 
 keep quiet a minute! He d sing songs and 
 2
 
 DAVID AND JONATHAN 
 
 tumble summersets and scare the fish away 
 and get tangled in the lines sometimes come 
 home crying with the hooks in him. Jon used 
 to call him the King. But I called him Parlia 
 ment. I expect he was both. 
 
 Always, on the farm, one went to college to 
 Irfarn and the rest stayed at home to work if 
 there was more than one son in the family, as 
 there always was. So it was since seventeen 
 hundred and ten when we first got the farm 
 so it was with my brother Henry, Evelyn s 
 stepfather and me, and so it had to be with 
 my sons Jonathan and David. Germans like to 
 obey the ways of their ancestors from genera 
 tion to generation. 
 
 It was decided by lot, and begun way back 
 when they used to leave everything to the Lord. 
 Mostly, they d put a hoe and a Bible on the 
 floor and let us boy-babies crawl for em. If 
 we took the hoe we were to be farmers. If 
 we took the Bible we were to be students. The 
 Bible was nice red morocco and gold, and the 
 hoe was kept bright and shiny, and both had 
 3
 
 WAR 
 
 come straight down from the ancestor who got 
 the farm in seventeen-ten. 
 
 The first born had always the first choice, 
 and so, when it was between my brother Henry 
 and me, I crawled and took the hoe which, I 
 seem to remember, looked so nice and shiny. 
 I m fond of shiny things now, yet. Of course, 
 Henry had to take the red Bible, there wasn t 
 anything else. That s how it come that I 
 stayed at home, which was literary, I expect, 
 and Henry went to Virginia, to college, which 
 never liked four walls about him. Anyhow, 
 he learned nothing the first year except 
 
 "Ich Hebe, 
 Du liebst, 
 Wir 
 
 and the second year was married to Evelyn s 
 mother already, a widow with a child ! which 
 he met when his class went on its annual tramp 
 from Virginia to Tennessee. He never even 
 came home he was so in love with Evelyn s 
 mother but went and lived in Tennessee, 
 4
 
 DAVID AND JONATHAN 
 
 because she wanted him to, with niggers and 
 a plantation, and spent more money breeding 
 funny horses than my daddy and me could 
 squeeze out of the old farm to keep him in 
 cluding chickens, butter, eggs, and milk. 
 
 My Jon and his Uncle Henry were both 
 b^Drn in the Unter Gehenda, that is the under 
 going of the moon, which is a bad time to be 
 born, and sad and gloomy and unlucky. But 
 Dave and me was born in the Uber Gehenda, 
 the over-going of the moon, which is happy 
 and joyous. So, you can see how the signs 
 fool us sometimes. 
 
 When it came to deciding which was to go 
 to college of my two boys, Jon, of course, 
 being the oldest, crawled first and took the 
 shiny hoe, like me, because it was shiny, I ex 
 pect, and Dave was not only satisfied with the 
 red Bible, but chewed the edges till he got colic. 
 But the signs were no more right with Jon and 
 Dave than they had been with Henry and me. 
 Dave didn t care anything about college when 
 he grew up, and Jon took all the learning he 
 5
 
 WAR 
 
 could gether up mostly by himself in fence 
 corners and wanted more. 
 
 Even when he minded the cows I used to see 
 him sit under the trees and books come out 
 of his pocket and his nose go into em forget 
 ful. 
 
 That s how we came to lose Shalom she 
 was a cow. While Jon s nose was in a book 
 Shalom s nose was fooling with a blast 
 Swartz s men had set in the quarry, which 
 went off before she stopped. Jon was sorry 
 for Shalom and got the pieces and gave them 
 decent burial and put up a wooden tombstone. 
 She was the only cow living which ever came 
 to misfortune through Jon. And it always 
 worried him. He was crazy about not kill 
 ing things. He used to say that only One 
 could take life : Him that gave it. He wouldn t 
 kill a fly. And that used to aggravate me. 
 For they were mighty plenty on the old farm. 
 Sometimes he d catch a handful and put em 
 out of doors but the rest stayed with us on 
 account of Jonthy. 
 
 6
 
 DAVID AND JONATHAN 
 
 Of course, when he grew up more, he mind 
 ed his farming business more. But it wasn t 
 as easy as sleeping in church. He had to keep 
 a memorandum-book with the hour for each 
 part of the day s work. Though he had a good 
 eye and a good hand when he got at it! No 
 onp in the township could drive a straighter 
 furrow! And he could cradle a ten-acre field 
 of wheat without dropping a dozen heads 
 and so the stubbles looked like yellow plush 
 afterward so nice and even! He never neg 
 lected anything after the death of Shalom 
 by the help of the memorandum-book. 
 
 To think about Dave having a memoran 
 dum-book, or bothering with "duty" makes me 
 laugh now ! 
 
 Maybe his chewing that red Bible had 
 something to do with it. For he always liked 
 red things color warmth snap. It was all 
 joy with Dave. Fishing swimming fight 
 ing black-head bumble-bees making uncom 
 fortable "harness" for the dog Wasser and 
 so on. Why, he drove the poor old dog away 
 7
 
 from home, pestering him with his wagons 
 and harnesses. Jon was scared stiff. He 
 thought now Dave had a death on his con 
 science, like he had, about Shalom. He had an 
 idea that no one could live without Dave, and 
 that, therefore, Wasser had committed suicide 
 maybe, by drowning. He looks all over for 
 the dog for three days, and Dave doesn t 
 bother his head about him. 
 
 Then, when Jon was half crazy, Dave goes 
 off and finds Wasser in five minutes hid 
 ing in the haymow where he could see Dave 
 without danger. I don t know how Dave knew 
 it, or Wasser got there, but he went straight to 
 the spot. 
 
 Then he brings Wasser home on his shoul 
 der, both as pleased as a bride and groom, and 
 licking each other! 
 
 And, that s Dave for you! Never bother 
 ing till some one was about crazy, and then 
 bothering a lot and fixing things all in a min 
 ute. Honest, he fooled the bumble-bees that 
 way. They stopped coming on the farm
 
 DAVID AND JONATHAN 
 
 Dave worried em so and that s bad luck for 
 a farm till Dave stole some wild honey one 
 night, in the dark of the moon, and built a nest 
 for them in the clover. Then they came back 
 and Dave forgot it. 
 
 Till one stung him one day one that re- 
 me"mbered him, I expect and he caught him 
 and took his stinger away and put him back 
 in the nest. That bee must have told the others. 
 For none of them ever bothered any of us after 
 that, and they and Dave were like brothers. 
 And old Wasser, after that love feast, he used 
 to get in Dave s way just to get pushed out. 
 
 People called him a shustle yet they always 
 had to laugh when they said it, because Dave 
 had a kind of way that made them like him 
 and Germans think they have no business to 
 like shustles! Everything was fun yes. But 
 everybody likes fun. And it was mighty nice 
 on the old farm to have little Dave always so 
 gay and happy. And he wasn t selfish about it 
 not a bit of it ! He d give up about any kind 
 of fun to be with Jon running and tum- 
 9
 
 WAR 
 
 bling after him in the furrow behind the plow. 
 Never working, of course. No one expected 
 that of Dave. He was to go to college. 
 
 Maybe you think that Jon crammed his 
 head so full of knowledge just to have it on 
 hand ! Not at all. It was just to get Dave 
 ready for college. Well, Dave passed all his 
 entering examinations like a breeze. Nobody 
 on earth but Jon would have been able to 
 get enough into Dave to pass em.
 
 II 
 
 WHAT THE TENTH SHELL AT SUMTER CAUSED 
 
 HENRY, my brother, was one of the men 
 who was helping to worry Major An 
 derson and starve him out of Fort Sumter in 
 1861. He was a regular Southerner by that 
 time. And when they found that Anderson 
 wouldn t go, poor Henry was one of them that 
 built the batteries on Sullivan s Island. I know 
 just how that sort of work suited him ! I bet he 
 was always right out front. But after the tenth 
 shell from Sumter, they sent Henry to his 
 home in a pine box, and when it came there 
 was no one to receive it but the girl Evelyn. 
 Her mother had dropped dead with the des 
 patch! She loved our Henry so much! Eve 
 lyn telegraphs the news of the death with her 
 last money and that she has no parents nor 
 money nor home now and what shall she do. I 
 ii
 
 WAR 
 
 answers right away that I m coming to get 
 her, because she s ours now. But at Mem 
 phis they turned me back unless I d take 
 the oath of allegiance to a lot of foolish 
 things, and if I waited long they d, maybe, put 
 me in jail, for safe-keeping, or improve my 
 appearance with chicken feathers. Well, I 
 helped to tar and feather a fellow once Elick 
 Schnatz. He didn t make much trouble, only 
 asked several times to be excused. He was 
 such a perfect gentleman about it that I tried 
 to get him excused. But the boys said he was 
 worthless and they hadn t had any fun for 
 some time. However, they said, on account of 
 me, they wouldn t put any tar in his hair. And 
 Schnatz he thanked me for that. 
 
 "Because," he says, "I don t know as there s 
 any kind of soap ll take tar out of hair with 
 out taking the hair out and I m fond of my 
 hair. If you are ever tar-and- feathered, Von- 
 ner, I ll try and get your hair excused for you, 
 anyhow," says he. 
 
 But Schnatz wasn t in Memphis at that 
 12
 
 THE TENTH SHELL AT SUMTER 
 
 time, and, anyhow, I don t think he could have 
 even got my hair excused from the fellows I 
 saw there. They hadn t had any fun, either, 
 to judge from the way they enjoyed the war, 
 for a long time, and they were bound to get 
 all they could out of this one. They didn t like 
 rrfe calling it "var," and tried to make me say 
 "wah", and I didn t like their calling it "wah," 
 and wouldn t say it. I didn t make friends by 
 that, and so I got my notice one night to let the 
 committee know who and what I was and 
 what my business was by the next morning. 
 Well, the walking was fair, and the night was 
 dark. I didn t know the way, but I could see 
 the north star. 
 
 I didn t wait. But I sent Jim Rasly, a nig 
 ger, who was as Union as I, but who had the 
 right words and the right color and was able 
 to say "wah" easy, and he brought Evelyn to 
 the old place. My, but I was surprised to find 
 that she wasn t a baby, but a tall young lady 
 of seventeen, and looking more ! You see, I d 
 forgot about time running one way while I was
 
 WAR 
 
 running the other ! We gave her Dave s room 
 because Dave had no use for it. He was at 
 college in Virginia, where the red Bible had 
 sent him. 
 
 Well, Evelyn gave us a good many soprizes, 
 at least one a day while they lasted. But, the 
 first and, maybe, the biggest was her affection 
 for our Henry being only her stepdaddy. 
 But, she d never been acquainted with her real 
 father, because he died before she was born, 
 and she was always crazy, from a baby up, for 
 a daddy "like other little girls." So, when 
 Henry came along and said he d be her daddy 
 well, though she was a pretty big girl by that 
 time she was just as crazy for one maybe 
 more so and you can believe that Henry 
 didn t disappoint her! I expect they was a 
 good bit like her and Dave. Just the best 
 friends. Anyhow, we soon found out she s 
 crazy about Henry, as a father, and mighty 
 mad at the Unions for killing him. She used 
 to get so worked up when she d talk about it, 
 that we kept on reminding her that he wasn t 
 14
 
 THE TENTH SHELL AJ SUMTER 
 
 her real father, only her stepfather, until she 
 turns the vials of her wrath on us all one day 
 and asks us if she s the only one in this house 
 who loves him! Of course we both answers 
 that we adores him as much as she does. But 
 she snaps out that we don t act like it and goes 
 off to bed coming to breakfast the next morn 
 ing with red eyes, kissing us, and asking us to 
 forgive her, and saying that, of course, we loved 
 Henry as much as she did more! For, no 
 one could know him as long as we had known 
 him without being willing to die for him ! And 
 to forgive her if we can. 
 
 Jon and I looks sheepish at each other, for, 
 though we did love Henry all we could, which 
 was a good deal, we had never thought about 
 dying for him. 
 
 After breakfast Jon says : 
 
 "Remember she s from the South, daddy, 
 and loves and hates harder than we do."
 
 Ill 
 
 WHAT WAS GOING ON IN VIRGINIA 
 
 WELL, it had been unsettled on the bor 
 der, even before the election of Lin 
 coln, and six months after Dave went away to 
 college in Virginia, the war trouble broke out in 
 earnest. It was about even down our way, till 
 after the battle of Bull Run. Then there were 
 many more secessionists than Unions. There 
 were three fights inside of three weeks at the 
 store, and in every one the Unions got licked. I 
 was in the first one. That s the reason I wasn t 
 in the other two. 
 
 Dave used to write funny letters from col 
 lege, about rebels and Unions and we d all 
 laugh at em. But a little after Bull Run he 
 wrote one which worried me some. He said 
 that his class all but him had voted to go 
 into the army of Virginia, but that he d told 
 16
 
 IN VIRGINIA 
 
 em he d have to write home to find out 
 whether he was Union or Democrat. They 
 didn t like that. He hoped we were Democrats 
 so that he could go with the boys and have a 
 good time licking the Black Republicans. It 
 was all he could do, he said, to stay behind 
 w^aen the boys in the slickest uniforms he had 
 ever seen, mostly made by their sweethearts, 
 and with twenty or thirty gold-and-blue officers 
 to each regiment, had gone and taken Harper s 
 Ferry and the navy yard at Gosport with no 
 deaths. Every one was a separate hero, and 
 all the sweethearts left behind (a good many 
 went along) took the first train to Harper s 
 Ferry to tell them so. Couldn t he go along 
 when they took Washington? which would 
 be next. Maybe he could find a sweetheart. 
 And, when they had Philadelphia and New 
 
 > 
 
 York, he d stop to see how we were getting 
 along before taking the oath of office as Presi 
 dent of the Confederate States of America 
 formerly the United States of Ditto just in 
 fun, of course, as you can see. 
 17
 
 ,WAR 
 
 But I got Evelyn, who was a better scholar 
 than I, to write back that we were all Union 
 to the backbone and that we were nailing 
 Maryland down so that she couldn t get out 
 of the Union, and not to bother about wars 
 nor rumors of war, but study hard, as he was 
 too young, anyhow, to fight with anybody but 
 me and I could lick him any day also in fun. 
 
 Evelyn was kind of shy and distressed, and 
 finally said : 
 
 "Daddy, dear, you oughtn t to ask me to 
 write that." 
 
 "Why?" says I. 
 
 "Because I ain t Union to the backbone," 
 says she. 
 
 "To be sure!" says I. "Not quite through. 
 I forgot. You are most two yards of rebel up 
 and down. They re the most dangerous the 
 lady rebels. I expect you d like to be making 
 funny flags and sticking them up on female 
 colleges like they re doing in Dixie. The 
 women s terrible fighters !" 
 
 I laughed, but Evelyn cried. It was hard for 
 18
 
 IN VIRGINIA 
 
 her to see a joke. Women ain t funny, mostly. 
 
 "Yes," she says, dropping tears on the let 
 ter, "just a girl rebel. And yes, they are ter 
 rible, thank God. And I shan t forget who 
 murdered my father! A woman s vengeance 
 is not like a man s. It never sleeps or dies. 
 -4nd the slayer of my father shall suffer or 
 his brethren shall for him !" 
 
 Well! I never saw Evelyn like that! I 
 didn t think she had it in her! Just a nice 
 young girl till I stirred her up. And remem 
 ber, Henry really wasn t her father, though, 
 remember again, she d never known any other 
 father. Of course, as I have told you, I don t 
 wonder that she loved our Henry a lot. Every 
 body did that got near him. Dave happy lit 
 tle Dave, always reminded me of him. She 
 scribbled fiercely at the letter, dropping more 
 tears, and I sneaked away for, as I told you, 
 I am no kind of a father. 
 
 I could see next day that she was scared 
 about it and so I scolded her a little. I was 
 never afraid to scold her when she was scared.
 
 IV 
 
 IN LINCOLN S PEN 
 
 A ND about this time those mysterious do- 
 JL \. ings began which, I suppose, always 
 happen on the border between two nations at 
 war. I can t tell, now, just what they were at 
 first, but it made you creepy and look sud 
 denly behind you. Strange people came to the 
 house, now and then, and asked strange ques 
 tions. Queer teams passed along, with queer 
 loads often covered over with other things. 
 Something got into the air which kept us nerv 
 ous. I would come across a neighbor who had 
 been peaceful and friendly the day before, to 
 find him fighty and an enemy, ready to slam 
 me in the face, and more ready to call me all 
 sorts of hard names, and blaming me for the 
 whole war. 
 
 In church, which was called "The Ark of 
 Peace," it got so bad that the seats on the 
 20
 
 IN LINCOLN S PEN 
 
 south side of the aisle was called "Africa" by 
 the Unions, and the north side was called 
 "Lincoln s Pen," by the secessionists. And the 
 members moved from one side to the other, ac 
 cording to their war-politics. 
 
 The aisle was called "Kentucky" because it 
 was supposed to be neutral territory. But no 
 secessionist would move an inch to let a Union 
 pass to "Lincoln s Pen" through "Kentucky". 
 For, at that time, after the fourth fight at the 
 store, the secessionists had far the best of it, 
 and, according to my own count, there were 
 three hundred and ten in "Africa," while "Lin 
 coln s Pen" had only a hundred and forty-six. 
 But that aisle made all take sides. There were 
 no neutrals. There was nothing to sit on in 
 "Kentucky." 
 
 Of course, Parr Horwitz had a hard time of 
 if, preaching straight down that aisle, about an 
 gels and archangels all the time, avoiding 
 everything fighty, till Herman Vare rose up in 
 his pew in "Africa" one Sunday and said : 
 
 "Pastor, the Bible is full of war-stories. 
 21
 
 WAR 
 
 David and Goliath, the Battle of Jericho, the 
 slaughter of the Amalekites, the crossing of the 
 Red Sea, the battle of Armageddon all of 
 these typifying the present struggle of the 
 South for liberty. We are two to one and we 
 demand that you preach of wars and rumors of 
 wars, two sermons out of three, or else " 
 
 Well, "or else" meant that the pastor 
 wouldn t get his salary the next month if he 
 didn t and, maybe, be wearing feathers in 
 stead of clothes and he began, by preaching a 
 hummer calling upon the secessionists to 
 blow their trumpets and throw down the aboli 
 tion walls of Washington ! 
 
 He got a cheer from "Africa" the first 
 cheers, I suppose, that old church ever heard 
 and afterward it was worse than ever until 
 "Africa" outnumbered "Lincoln s Pen" four to 
 one, and the pastor kept on thundering war-ser 
 mons, never one about peace and doves, and not 
 down the aisle, in "Kentucky" where no one 
 was but straight into "Africa", with his back 
 turned on "Lincoln s Pen". 
 
 22
 
 IN LINCOLN S PEN 
 
 I tell you it took courage to go to church, 
 them days, and keep from fighting, and soon 
 I excused myself and so did most all of the 
 other Unions. Four to one was no use. 
 
 After that they had it all their own way in 
 "Africa" and they didn t seem to like it. They 
 were fighty, even in church, wanted to drive us 
 to "Lincoln s Pen" to be bombarded. It wasn t 
 much fun fighting battles without an enemy. 
 They were too sure to win. 
 
 At last, when they hadn t us any more to 
 fight, they got to fighting among themselves. 
 Some was too secession and others wasn t se 
 cession enough. Some was ready to go into the 
 Confederate army, and others said that was go 
 ing too far. They got called cowards spies 
 Abolitionists and Know-Nothings and they 
 called the others Copperheads Knights-of- 
 th e-Golden-Circle and Nigger-lovers and 
 those were all fight-words to every man in 
 those days. Well, the upshot of it was that 
 they had a battle, right there in the church, and 
 tore the place to pieces, with many wounded 
 23
 
 WAR 
 
 and no dead. Parr Horwitz was so scared that 
 he skedaddled, and was never heard from 
 again, and some one nailed up what was left 
 of the church, and it wasn t opened again for 
 five years. But that fight in the church made 
 worse blood than anything else like church 
 fights always do. After that everybody was 
 mad at everybody else, and called each other 
 all kinds of hard names. And the secret or 
 ganizations, for one disloyal purpose or an 
 other, flourished mightily just for spite. 
 
 It never looked exactly like an Ark of Peace 
 from that time on the nice old church.
 
 V 
 
 ABOUT THE LOVE GAME 
 
 THEN Dave wrote, again, that he must 
 join the army down there or come 
 home or at least get out of Virginia. They 
 were lynching Union men whenever they were 
 not otherwise busy, which, thank heaven, was 
 not often. All that saved him was that they 
 didn t know whether he was Union or rebel 
 he didn t himself. He wanted to know that 
 strictly confidential. If he was Union, he d 
 skedaddle. If he wasn t, he d join something 
 down there. There was no school no more, 
 anyhow. The president of the college was a 
 colonel in the Fairfax Cavalry, and the chap 
 lain was an independent guerrilla captain. He 
 ended by asking who wrote our letter at the be 
 ginning and who else at the end, and who 
 slopped water on it, and why did it smell like 
 the flowers in the three-cornered pasture.
 
 WAR 
 
 When I read that last I saw Evelyn catch her 
 breath, and I asked her, very kind this time, to 
 write back a large no. That his place was 
 taken and his room was filled with that per 
 fume that he liked. There wasn t a hole or cor 
 ner for him, except, maybe, the haymow, with 
 Wasser, and so, he got to stay down there, and 
 learn! and let em guess whether he wa s 
 Union or rebel. 
 
 Evelyn didn t want to write that, either, re 
 membering my scolding, maybe, but cried a 
 little again, though meek and humble now. 
 Nothing about the murderer of her father; and 
 she kissed me. 
 
 "Daddy, I ll go away and make room for 
 Dave," she said. "I ought to, I am a rebel. I 
 can t help it." 
 
 But I kissed her and said that we liked her as 
 much as Dave, and that she couldn t go. That 
 we loved her loved her just for herself 
 which was good enough excuse for any one ! 
 and not because we wanted to keep Dave down 
 among the Johnny Rebs. He went there to 
 26
 
 ABOUT THE LOVE GAME 
 
 learn and he must. And she might be as much 
 of a rebel as she liked. There was plenty of 
 em about, and nobody was getting hurt yet 
 much. 
 
 It was really so, that we loved her and 
 most as much as Dave. Personally, I don t 
 remember ever seeing a prettier girl than Eve 
 lyn. I don t think any one around here ever 
 did. Our girls are different: mostly fat and 
 with taffy hair and blue eyes. But Evelyn had 
 eyes like the shady twin-springs in the Poison 
 Woods where you can see mysterious things 
 you don t understand and big and round 
 a good deal like a little cow-calf. Unshuldich, 
 the Germans call em. And her hair was black 
 actually black with no shine to it and 
 never would lay straight, just clung close about 
 her face, careless, like pictures I ve seen, but 
 never on a real person. And her face it was 
 kind of pale and glorious and high born, with 
 red spots in the cheeks which spread all over her 
 face, and sometimes her neck and breast, when 
 she was surprised or happy. And it was seri- 
 27
 
 WAR 
 
 ous, mostly, like she didn t understand a joke. 
 But when she did smile and open her red lips 
 on her white teeth well, that was about the 
 sweetest soprize I ve ever seen like the clouds 
 had parted and the sun was shining through. 
 
 Her sadness, of course, was mostly about 
 her mother and her father as she always 
 called Henry. She had an idea that the Unions 
 at Sumter had deliberately murdered him, 
 and when she thought of that, all the loveliness 
 seemed to go out of her, and she became hard 
 and could do unkind things. I always knew 
 when she was thinking of this, by the way her 
 eyes glittered, and then there was no red in her 
 cheeks. When she began to think of her 
 father s murder, as she called it, I always got 
 out of the way. I don t like trouble. I m al 
 ways for peace. Anyhow, if she was left 
 alone, she always repented and was extra nice 
 to us. 
 
 But, mostly, she was kind and gentle, and 
 like her mother, she said. Tall and easy of mo 
 tion. She had a picture of her mother and 
 28
 
 ABOUT THE LOVE GAME 
 
 they was just about the same at her age, so 
 I didn t blame Henry so much, no more, for 
 
 his : 
 
 "Ich Hebe, 
 Du liebst, 
 Wir lieben " 
 
 and so on. I was old enough to have sense, 
 but I use to think that such a woman as Eve 
 lyn s mother looked like could have made me do 
 something foolish maybe. 
 
 Well, she soon had us that we d have fallen 
 down and worshiped her, I expect when she 
 was gentle even the cattle in the barnyard. 
 But Jon was the worst of all. Right from 
 the start he was witchcrafted, hands and feet, 
 like a nigger slave. I never saw anything so 
 quick. Both of them were rather solemn and 
 didn t talk much. But, Jon s blue eyes weren t 
 so slow saying things to her dark ones, and his 
 voice, when he read German to her, out of 
 books, wasn t far behind hers. And when he 
 sung to her, with the guitar, German songs, 
 like Blau ist eln Bliimclein, I just didn t 
 29
 
 WAR 
 
 know my son no more! It was a kind of lan 
 guage without words. 
 
 Jon, he was entirely different from the rest 
 of the freundschaft, anyhow. I never could 
 understand him myself which was his daddy. 
 Now, you could read Dave like a book, through 
 and through. It was wonderful, the difference 
 between those two brothers. 
 
 And, handsome Jon! With long careless 
 yellow hair that he use to shake out of his 
 eyes, and a couple, or so, of little whiskers hid 
 ing out on his face. 
 
 The first I knew what was actually up, was 
 one day Evelyn brought the dinner to the field. 
 We were reaping with sickles in the New- 
 Bought-Field, me and Jon and the hireland, 
 because the rye was too much lodged to take 
 the machine in. Yet the rye was good, and 
 we needed it for roasting to make coffee. Real 
 coffee had gone up to a dollar a pound. 
 
 I didn t know Evelyn was about at all till 
 Jon dropped his sickle and run way cross the 
 30
 
 ABOUT THE LOVE GAME 
 
 field and got her off the fence where she was 
 sticking fast, with the jug and the basket to 
 manage, and scared of a couple of harmless 
 cows a-watching what she was going to do 
 about it. 
 
 Jonathan carried the jug and the basket to 
 tfie old shellbark tree and looked like he was 
 crazy to carry her, too. She had no umbrell 
 and he held his big straw hat over her head to 
 keep the sun off. She looked like a glowing red 
 flower. But I expect old Jonthy had no idea 
 how fine he looked in his shining bare head, 
 with the sun on it. 
 
 "Now, that s strange!" thinks I, to myself, 
 "that Jon should notice once that a woman had 
 a fence to climb. He used to laugh at them 
 when cows got after them. And it has to be 
 mighty funny when Jon laughs." 
 
 "Jonthy," says I, "how did you know? Was 
 you expecting her?" 
 
 "I must have been, daddy," laughs Jona 
 than back at me. 
 
 31
 
 WAR 
 
 "Was you expecting him to rescue you 
 from the fearful cows?" I also asked of Eve 
 lyn. 
 
 "I must have been, daddy," says she, exactly 
 like Jon, and smiles that smile I have been 
 telling you about white teeth, red lips and 
 love by the bushel ! 
 
 "And neither didn t know the other was 
 coming?" 
 
 They both said no. 
 
 "One of those" 
 
 "Coincidences," says they both at once. 
 
 Evelyn was leaning up against the old shell- 
 bark tree and swinging Betsy s Sunday sun- 
 bonnet, which she d borrowed of the cook, by 
 the strings, right into Jon s face, and both 
 was laughing. Now, what do you think of that 
 for two such solemns ! But it looked nice 
 veiy nice. Behind Evelyn was the big black 
 tree, and behind that, yet, the yellow wheat 
 pitching about, under the wind, like the waves 
 of the ocean at least I expect so, though I 
 have never seen the ocean and I don t sup- 
 32
 
 ABOUT THE LOVE GAME 
 
 pose it s yellow and for a background, the 
 blue old sky with little sugar-loaf clouds like 
 they might fall on us. It looked like that pic 
 ture in the old red Bible, of Ruth reaping if 
 Evelyn had just had a sickle yet, and shorter 
 clothes. But handsomer than Ruth, enough 
 sig^it. One of Ruth s eyes wasn t printed 
 right. And, anyhow, Evelyn s eyes couldn t 
 be printed. 
 
 Old Jon, with his smile and yellow hair and 
 whiskers just fitting into the color plan of the 
 wheat, wasn t so very far out of the picture, 
 neither. And, I expect, if some one else was 
 telling this he might say that me and the hire- 
 land was somewhere near the frame. 
 
 "Daddy," says Evelyn, "if I can get work 
 here I ll work!" 
 
 Just in fun. She couldn t work. Such 
 hands as she had on the ends of her arms are 
 for ornament, not work. 
 
 "Yes," says I, "you can. We re just one 
 hand short. You can take Dave s place. Get 
 his old rusty sickle and sharpen it up, and we ll 
 33
 
 WAR 
 
 throw him out of the family in exchange for 
 you and let him join the rebels if he s so crazy 
 to. To all intents and purposes, as aforesaid, 
 as Squire Schwartz says, you are my son Dave, 
 and my son Dave is disowned " just in fun, 
 as you can see. Dave never worked. 
 
 We all laughed a little, not hard, and Jon, 
 he says, with a look at Evelyn : 
 
 "She can easy take Dave s sickle. He was 
 never much of a hand with the sickle but 
 
 "But not his place in your hearts !" breaks in 
 Evelyn, turning rebel, "I ve never crossed the 
 door-sill of your affections. I m an outsider. 
 A poor relation ! I d be a servant save that I 
 don t work. I wish there were a place where I 
 could earn my living. But I haven t been 
 taught anything. How can I? Some day I ll 
 offend you by my rebel sentiments and you ll 
 turn me out. And if no one else does it, Dave 
 will do it when he comes ! I haven t been 
 afraid of you and Jon, but I am afraid of 
 him! The immaculate and wonderful Dave! 
 Hah! And to think that I have his room! 
 34
 
 ABOUT THE LOVE GAME 
 
 Sleep in his bed! My enemy! I hate him! 
 Yes, before I have ever seen him I hate him! 
 But I ll be as much of a rebel as I like though I 
 die for it." 
 
 She pounded her breast till I was afraid 
 she d hurt herself, and I went and held her 
 ha,nds. 
 
 "Kushy ! kushy !" says I, "be a rebel as much 
 as you like. It s a free country. It won t 
 make no other rebels around here; they re all 
 made already ; or set the Swamp Creek afire 
 it won t burn. But don t you hate Dave. 
 That s a fight word. And you ll have old Was- 
 ser eating you up, the bees stinging you and 
 the fish biting you if you do. Besides, what s 
 the use in saying it ? You can t. No one ever 
 could. Dave was made to be loved and every 
 one obeys nature and does it. Join in." 
 
 While I was speaking Jon came up and took 
 one of her hands in fact the whole arm, and 
 says: 
 
 "Little sister, daddy is right. No one on 
 earth ever hated Dave, or could hate him. Nor 
 35
 
 WAR 
 
 was anything on earth ever even afraid of him. 
 Even the stinging bees on the farm love him. 
 You will, too, the moment you see him. I 
 prophesy that. You ve taken nothing of little 
 Dave s but what he d give you a hundred 
 fold! If any one asked for his head " 
 
 "Dave would cut it off and hand it over with 
 a polite bow !" says I just in fun, as you can 
 see. 
 
 "Is he little, Jonthy?" asks Evelyn, suddenly 
 forgetting tc be a rebel and all about the hate 
 and fear. "If he s small enough for me to 
 take on my lap " 
 
 I nearly exploded. And even Jon had to 
 stuff his fist in his mouth. 
 
 "I m afraid," says Jon, "you couldn t take 
 him on your lap, handy. We used to call 
 him little when he was a baby, and it s sort of 
 stuck to him I don t know why. He s about 
 as big as I am, by now, I expect." 
 
 "Oh!" says Evelyn. 
 
 "Do you think you could take old Jonthy 
 on your lap, handy?" says I in fun, of course. 
 36
 
 ABOUT THE LOVE GAME 
 
 "Daddy !" says Jon. 
 
 "Excuse me!" says I. "I meant in several 
 pieces." 
 
 "In one way I m glad about that," says Eve 
 lyn. "I don t like little people. Maybe, if 
 Dave s as tall and handsome as you, Jon, I 
 won t exactly hate him. I may like him a lit 
 tle." 
 
 "The easiest job you ever undertook !" says 
 Jon, blushing a little about that "handsome" 
 business. 
 
 "No, it will not be easy," insists Evelyn. "It 
 will take all my power of will. And who will 
 explain me? He doesn t seem ever to have 
 heard of me." 
 
 "You will explain yourself just a look at 
 you!" says Jon. "But, I will tell Dave a few 
 things. Dave and me are very good friends." 
 
 "He can t be as dear and sweet as you, 
 Jonthy !" she says, leaning up against old Jona 
 than. 
 
 And Jon, when she done that, the holiness 
 came into his face. I might as well have been 
 37
 
 WAR 
 
 a thousand miles away. Jon was in a country 
 where I couldn t follow. 
 
 But I don t let no one lose me that way. So 
 I broke in : 
 
 "How did you get here, anyhow, Evelyn, 
 without being injured? You are afraid of 
 cows, and you can t climb no fences. And the 
 fields are full of man-eating rabbits ! How did 
 you get here whole?" 
 
 "With these," she answers, holding on to 
 Jon more yet, and sticking out a foot that 
 wasn t made for stubbles. "And I am not 
 afraid of anything, and I can climb fences, 
 when my good knight is near." 
 
 Meaning Jon ! 
 
 "U-hu !" say I, "he looks like good morning, 
 by the smile, ever since you came !" 
 
 "Then I ll bring the dinner every day ! It s 
 good to smile !" 
 
 "Then Jon will have a chronic open face 
 before the summer is over," says I just in fun 
 "and be no use with tools !" 
 
 She was different, that day, and better than 
 
 38
 
 ABOUT THE LOVE GAME 
 
 I d ever seen her. Bitter and sweet. Gentle 
 and savage. Now she was glowing. A little 
 while ago she was a thunder-storm. I don t 
 know why men like that kind of women. 
 Jon had no learning about them. But he fell 
 the same as they who had. Like brother Henry 
 me, if I d had the chance. 
 
 Apple-jack always makes me sleepy. So 
 the hireland and me laid down behind the shell- 
 bark tree to take a nap. Jon he laid down on 
 the grass at Evelyn s feet and read poetry to 
 her out of a German book he had in his pocket. 
 
 It was about an old man in Germany who 
 sold his soul to the Old Boy so s he could be 
 made young and love a girl he knew. They 
 talked a good deal about it Evelyn contend 
 ing there were no such men nowadays, old 
 Goliath, as we sometimes called Jonthy, telling 
 her that the world was just full of em. I ex 
 pect Jonthy was trifling with the truth a little 
 about that. Anyhow, I never heard about any 
 of em being willing to give up their souls for a 
 little while with a woman. Most of em won t 
 
 39
 
 WAR 
 
 even give up smoking and drinking for em. 
 An the way they bother em after they get em 
 makes me think that Jon either didn t know all 
 the news or was fooling Evelyn a little. 
 
 Jonathan just let himself go deeper and 
 deeper didn t try to beat the love game. 
 Evelyn didn t seem to notice it, and Jon had 
 no idea that it mightn t be all right with her. 
 My, how it changed him ! But, love does that 
 to a fellow. It done it to me once. That s 
 how I learned to wear a stovepipe hat! Jon, 
 he wore paper collars on Sundays, and put 
 smelly things on his hair, which Evelyn made 
 him quit, and went to town once and got a 
 shave. Evelyn was also disappointed in the 
 shave. So Jon blushed and says he ll never 
 do it again and he didn t. 
 
 "Fortunately, you didn t get your hair cut," 
 says Evelyn. "All it needs, now and then, is a 
 little trimming. And I ll do that if you ll 
 let me. I use to do it for father." 
 
 Well, once a day wouldn t have been too 
 often for Jonthy to have Evelyn get the scis- 
 40
 
 ABOUT THE LOVE GAME 
 
 sors and her fingers in his hair, after she begun 
 it! But she wouldn t do it more n once a month 
 on the first which she said was too often, 
 but, on account of being forced, she would do it 
 that much. Jon never let the day pass by! 
 He d bring her the scissors, the comb and a 
 tdXvel for her to pin around him My, my! 
 When she d pin that towel her arms had to go 
 round him! She was standing behind. Once 
 he kissed her both hands when they was under 
 his chin. Evelyn laughed. But Jon was white 
 as the towel. Then he got red. He stayed that 
 color. 
 
 Those hair-cuts! Jon s head looked like 
 the places where Shalom used to eat grass, 
 in the meadows. Shalom was a lazy and lux 
 urious sort of a cow, so she d eat in the shade 
 Q.f a tree sometimes laying down. And, some 
 places, where the grass was extra sweet, she d 
 eat till the ground stuck out. Others, where 
 timothy grew instead of clover, she d let alone, 
 or just eat off the heads of the timothy. You 
 know how stubbly that looks ! Then she d lay 
 41
 
 WAR 
 
 aown on it all and go to sleep. Well that s 
 Jon s head. Real cow-licks ! 
 
 But Jon wouldn t have had it different no 
 sooner than old Shalom. I think he loved 
 the spots best where Evelyn absent-mindedly 
 cut down to the skin. And if she happened to 
 take a piece of that all the better for Jon, 
 somehow. It s a wonderful game love!
 
 VI 
 
 UNDER THE PLUM TREES 
 
 IT S no use. I can t tell it. Old Jon was 
 almost as gay and joyous as Dave, after a 
 while that s how glorious old Jonthy got to 
 be with Evelyn about. 
 
 I use to go out under the plum trees at 
 night, sometimes, to reflect about my wife who 
 was dead. And, one night, when I was laying 
 on the flat of my back on that old yellow bench, 
 looking at the moon through the trees I can 
 reflect much better that way Jonathan and 
 Evelyn came out and sat on the red bench. 
 Evelyn folded her hands this way and 
 looked up, through the trees, at the big yellow 
 moon, as if she had some one dead to think 
 of, also, and nothing much to say. Jonathan 
 begun to tune his guitar. He was a nice play 
 er, and he kept picking soft little chords for a 
 while, just rambling round among the notes 
 43
 
 WAR 
 
 to find something nice enough for Evelyn. He 
 found it, all right, after a while, and begun 
 to sing. It was : 
 
 "Du hast das Herze mein, 
 So ganz genommen ein, 
 Dass ich kciri Andre lieb , 
 A Is dich all ein " 
 
 Well, it was like praying. And he was look 
 ing up in Evelyn s face with an expression in 
 his own that I had never seen there yet. But 
 Evelyn didn t seem to notice just kept look 
 ing up at the moon, in the Mond-licht, and went 
 on reflecting. Me? I was getting hot at her 
 myself a not listening when old Jonthy sang 
 to her like that ! I d have broke out in a min 
 ute more if Jon hadn t begun to inch along 
 the bench till he got near her then almost 
 against her. Then he looked in her face, play 
 ing softer and softer. I could hardly stand 
 it. But she never noticed. Then Jon took her 
 hand kissed it smiled up at her like an 
 angel. Jon, he must have learned that out 
 of books it was so fine and manly. I know 
 44
 
 UNDER THE PLUM TREES 
 
 he didn t learn it of me. She notices then, 
 all right, and looks down, as if it was the 
 first time she ever knew that she and Jon 
 lived in the same world. She actually didn t 
 know what had happened. But she kept get 
 ting her thoughts together, and Jon kept the 
 r/and and kissed it some more. Then she 
 begun to wake up. She looked at Jon sev 
 eral times, then down at the hand he had, 
 several times more, then she says, soft and sur 
 prised, passing the other hand over her eyes : 
 
 "Why, Jon!" 
 
 "Let me kiss your soul !" says Jon. 
 
 "And and, I never saw you look at me 
 quite like that !" 
 
 "Let me look at your heart !" begs Jon. 
 
 "But what does it mean, Jon ?" 
 "Love!" says Jon. "Holy adoration! The 
 greatest love any man in all the world ever had 
 for any woman !" 
 
 And he looked up at her, in the light of the 
 moon, in the most beautiful and beseeching 
 way I ever saw. 
 
 45
 
 WAR 
 
 "Love?" asks Evelyn, still not quite awake, 
 and passing her hand over her face. 
 
 "Du hast das Herze mein, 
 So ganz genommen ein " 
 
 Jon sang. 
 
 Then at last she woke up entirely and looked 
 at Jon in a strange and terrible kind of way. 
 She took her hand away and moved off. 
 
 "Jon," she says, "you re my brother." 
 
 "I m your slave !" says Jon. 
 
 "Give your love to some one worthier of 
 it!" 
 
 "There is none such!" 
 
 "As for me I am a monster! If you knew 
 what makes me say that you would agree in 
 it. You must not love me. If you knew my 
 thoughts you could not." 
 
 "Monster!" says old Jon, "you re an angel, 
 straight from heaven!" 
 
 Now what do you think of that for a son of 
 mine! 
 
 Evelyn just looked as if she couldn t under 
 stand his language. 
 
 46
 
 UNDER THE PLUM TREES 
 
 "You came like a burst of divine flame to 
 kindle a holy passion," Jon goes on. "The 
 Lord sent you to complete my imperfect 
 life. Before you came there was only little 
 Dave. But he had to go away. I seem to un 
 derstand that with your coming I am myself 
 again and that you are to be me, I you one 
 perfect exquisite being! and that you are 
 never to go again." 
 
 "Jon," says Evelyn, turning soft and pitiful, 
 "you must try and be merciful to us both." 
 
 "Mercy is for you, dear," says Jon. 
 
 "No, no, brother Jonthy," says Evelyn, even 
 more pitiful. "I want just enough of your 
 great love for a sister. That is all I dare 
 receive. That is all you may give. Keep the 
 rest for some one more worthy. Now, let us 
 not hurt each other. I am capable of it ! Maybe 
 I have done it hurt you all. But what mat 
 ters it that a few of us fall by the wayside if 
 the people are saved! Jon, there must be no 
 more of this. I have dedicated myself to a 
 great cause. I am not I any more. I am a 
 47
 
 WAR 
 
 thing a machine to do the will of a cause. 
 One small link in the great chain which leads 
 from here to there !" 
 
 She points south. Then she says, like a gen 
 eral giving a command: 
 
 "There must be no more of this. I am not 
 love. I am war! I am a great cause!" 
 
 Well, of course, Jon didn t understand that 
 crazy stuff any more than I did. He goes 
 straight back to the love. 
 
 "Evelyn," says Jon, desperate, "it must be 
 more ! You must marry me." 
 
 Then, even in the night, I could see the hard 
 ness come into her face, and when she spoke 
 it cut through her voice like iron. 
 
 "Would you like to know what my heart is 
 full of at this moment?" she says. 
 
 "Yes," says Jon, thinking maybe, that it was 
 something about him. 
 
 "Murder!" says Evelyn. 
 
 "No, no," says Jonathan, "not in that heart. 
 It is made to be filled with love. Nothing else." 
 48
 
 UNDER THE PLUM TREES 
 
 She laughed in that way that always made 
 me shiver. 
 
 "You don t seem to be aware that we are 
 enemies, and become more so every day with 
 every shot fired down there in Virginia. I tell 
 you that every one of those bullets goes 
 through my heart here ! I tell you that I hate 
 you all all who call yourselves Union. And 
 you know that you all hate me, that your lit 
 tle affection for me is what you would give to 
 any mendicant who came to your door. Oh, 
 you are good in that way! You don t turn 
 beggars out. But you are not good enough to 
 be rebels! as you fools call us. You don t 
 stop to think that your father s brother had 
 the courage to be one! And you don t re 
 call that some of you murdered him ! At night, 
 while he stood faithfully at his gun! And his 
 blood is on you his own kin as well as the 
 rest. Shall I tell you some more of the things 
 in my heart? Oh, there won t be any talk of 
 love between us after this will there? Nor 
 49
 
 WAR 
 
 between me and any one who calls himself a 
 follower of Lincoln. But I don t mind telling 
 you that I am living, breathing, hoping only 
 for the South and that I am going to do all 
 I can to help her ! All, all ! She shall prevail ! 
 She shall conquer! For, there are a million 
 like me at work for her! Do you think the 
 North can defeat such a host as that? A mil 
 lion like me !" 
 
 "No," says Jon, fascinated like a bird by a 
 snake, "no, not one like you! You are glori 
 ous! You are invincible you alone! And 
 your cause must be to raise such a spirit in 
 even one such woman! Though I ve thought 
 little enough about either side to my shame. 
 But, love" 
 
 "You mean you mean," whispers she, 
 stooping and almost putting her arms around 
 Jon, "that you might be can be are one of 
 us? Speak !" 
 
 But poor old Jon was troubled at that. 
 Think of the temptation! He took her hands 
 to keep her near, but he said : 
 50
 
 UNDER THE PLUM TREES 
 
 "I do not know I do not know! I have 
 thought little about the war about anything 
 but you since you came ! I don t know !" 
 
 This did not please Evelyn. She flung his 
 hands away. 
 
 "You, a man, and don t know! Oh, if the 
 wpmen could but fight this war ! You, a man, 
 with hell seething all about you and talking, 
 thinking of love! A woman! A woman s 
 man ! There is no room in my heart for love, 
 or such a man ! I don t even hear you. Shall I 
 tell you the plan I was making when you began 
 to talk of love? I was planning to find, here, 
 in the North, a soldier many to take the 
 place of my father. That would be just That 
 would be only fair vengeance. I thought of 
 you for my soldier!" 
 
 I imagined for the next few minutes the girl 
 / 
 
 had gone crazy. And Jon must have thought 
 so, too. For he kept stroking a hand which 
 she didn t know he had and murmuring : 
 
 "You! You thought of me. You thought 
 that! You!" 
 
 51
 
 WAR 
 
 "Me! Now do you want to talk a little 
 more of love my kind of love? Or do you 
 prefer war ! Never speak of love to me again 
 till you are one of my kind." 
 
 She got so jerky and crazy that Jon was 
 scared. 
 
 "Kushy, kushy!" he kept saying. 
 
 "I ll make a bargain with yon," she laughs to 
 Jon, crazy, and stooping and looking like a 
 young devil in his face, "I don t love you; I 
 can t lie. But I do want you ! I can t love any 
 one or anything called Union, Republican or 
 Northern. But I ll marry you if you ll take 
 the place of my father. Do you understand? 
 I can put you right through the lines to Lee 
 without risk. What do you say? Here s the 
 price of one traitor! I! I ll be your wife 
 your harlot anything upon the terms pro 
 posed !" 
 
 She stood up straight and evil-looking like 
 pictures of serpents I ve seen, charming ani 
 mals. Then she laughs and is gone. 
 
 And Jon was struck so dumb that he didn t 
 52
 
 UNDER THE PLUM TREES 
 
 move a finger not even looking around when 
 she disappeared like a snake sliding through 
 the grass. 
 
 For a long time nothing moved. Then the 
 guitar fell, pang-tang ! and Jon said something 
 that got mixed up with the music. 
 
 I got up, quiet, and went over and sat down 
 aside of Jonthy. He just looked up, surprised 
 to see me there, but said nothing. I was sorry 
 for him. At last I pulls him up and leads him 
 off to bed. 
 
 "Boy," says I, nice and kind, when we got 
 to his room, "no woman is worth dishonor. 
 No one woman can be won or if won, kept 
 by dishonor not even that she goes after her 
 self. Your daddy and Dave are Union to the 
 backbone. Your mother was that s dead. 
 This old house is to the chimley tops. There 
 never was any such doings under its roof. 
 General George Washington slept under it. 
 Jonthy, what are you ?" 
 
 He just looked at me, crazy, like he d never 
 seen me before. 
 
 53
 
 WAR 
 
 "Think about it, Jon," says I. "It s time. 
 Good night." 
 
 Well you know what a difference there is 
 in the morning-. For myself, I wondered 
 whether all of it had happened. I had to begin 
 my breakfast alone. But when Jon and Eve 
 lyn came I was sure that everything had taken 
 place. Evelyn was sorry and weepy, and shy 
 of Jon at first. But he went over to her just as 
 of old, when she came down, and kissed her 
 good morning, on her forehead, and then she 
 laid her head against him and cried. As for 
 Jon he looked like he d had a spell of sick 
 ness. 
 
 "I can t help it," she sobs, "It s in here, 
 boiling up all the time. I try to beat it I do, 
 indeed, but all of a sudden it comes out without 
 me saying yes or no. I can t I can t! If you 
 love me, please try and bear with that. Forgive 
 me, Jon, forgive me, daddy! Always for 
 give me ! You must. It s an infirmity, illness. 
 Dearest Jon and dearest daddy in the world ! 
 And put your arms about me both of you 
 54
 
 UNDER THE PLUM TREES 
 
 yes, about an irreconcilable rebel ! two Black 
 Republicans and let us have peace. I ll try 
 not to let it happen again." 
 
 Just think of a woman who could do all that 
 and smile and cry all together, like an angel! 
 Wasn t she wonderful? And that s the kind 
 of women men go crazy about! But don t you 
 forget that s the kind of women go crazy bout 
 men when the right one comes ! 
 
 She pulls one on each side of her, so s we re 
 all hugged and mixed up together, and all 
 laughing and crying says : 
 
 "Oh, daddy, dear, and Jonthy, darling, to 
 gether, tighter! If you d only always do that 
 when I am that way put your arms about me 
 the more harder the better and just hold 
 me till the devil goes out of me ! Kill me this 
 way if you must !" 
 
 "There s no need," says I, thinking it all over 
 after what I knew about women! 
 
 None of us said any more about it, though 
 we all watched our words for some time, and, 
 at last, it wore off and was forgotten. 
 
 55
 
 WAR 
 
 /on says to me one day later, still kind of 
 dazed : 
 
 "It didn t mean a thing, did it daddy?" 
 
 "Not a thing!" says I. 
 
 "Do you think it ll happen again?" 
 
 "Often," says I, "and won t mean no more. 
 Look out for it. And remember nothing 
 from nothing is nothing. You know what you 
 said yourself, Jonthy. Southern women love 
 and hate harder than we do when they re 
 thinking of it. When they re not they don t 
 love or hate at all just like we do."
 
 VII 
 
 WHO WAS LUCAS MALLORY? 
 
 WELL, war makes funny things to hap 
 pen. Ben Crider s tavern is straight 
 down the valley, southward, from here. And 
 though the Criders had lived there about as 
 long as we had lived here, I had never seen 
 their house from here, even in winter-time, ow 
 ing to the trees being so thick around it. But, 
 one night, I saw a light in that direction. Even 
 then I wouldn t have noticed it, I expect, if it 
 hadn t been behaving so funny. It went 
 around in circles, then right, then left, then up 
 and down, and to all quarters of the circle, and 
 in all sorts of combinations of them. I thought 
 it was some boys, maybe, playing with firesticks 
 as they often used to do in the hills about 
 here. Next day I could see the window in the 
 gable of the Crider tavern, for the first time in 
 57
 
 WAR 
 
 my life and, by hokey, the reason was that 
 three trees in a northerly line from the window 
 had been cut down! 
 I rode over. 
 
 "Ben," I says, "why did you cut those nice 
 old trees down?" 
 
 "Fire-wood," says Ben briefly. "This war ll 
 be making us do worse things than that before 
 it s over. We ll be burning up our grain, eat 
 ing our horses, and cows and mules, et cetera. 
 About the only thing that will be plenty, pres 
 ently, will be pure spring water and I d hate 
 to live on that. A dollar ll cost two dollars and 
 a half before the thing is done, and you ll have 
 to give your farm to get a suit of clothes. Are 
 you still so crazy for it?" 
 
 "I never was," says I. "I m peaceful." 
 "So am I. Then why don t you help to stop 
 it?" yells Ben. "No one can be peaceful. It s 
 one side or the other. Where are you?" 
 "Me ?" I says. "How can I stop it ?" 
 "By fighting joining the Knights helping 
 58
 
 WHO WAS LUCAS MALLORY? 
 
 the Underground doing everything you can 
 against it." 
 
 "What," I asks, "shall I make the Unions 
 do ? I m Union, you know ! You want me to 
 help the rebels." 
 
 "Make Abe Lincoln let the South go her 
 wa^r. She deserves it. She ll go, anyhow. 
 She s stronger than the North. Why shouldn t 
 she? If you want to leave me, have I a right 
 to pin you to your chair and keep you ?" 
 
 "But you wouldn t rather have twenty or 
 thirty little tomcat governments, none of em 
 having any power or dignity, than this one 
 great, grand, glorious Union ?" says I. 
 
 "If the people want it that way yes," says 
 Ben, violent. "It s their country, not Abe Lin 
 coln s." 
 
 "You can bet," says I, "that they d be cut 
 ting down each other s trees then to beat the 
 band !" 
 
 Ben flares up entirely unaccountable, and 
 says : 
 
 59
 
 WAR 
 
 "Who s cutting down other people s trees?" 
 
 "No one, yet, as I know," says I. 
 
 "I ll cut down my own as often as I please/ 
 says Ben. 
 
 "No, only once," says I. 
 
 "You re an ignorant fool !" says Ben. 
 
 "But that s so ain t it that you can t cut 
 a tree down more than once?" 
 
 "Fool!" says Ben. 
 
 "Ben," I says on, "if it s fire-wood, why 
 don t you cut it into cord sticks instead of 
 laying whole on the ground?" 
 
 Ben was a bit puzzled for a minute. 
 
 "Ain t had no time?" asks I. 
 
 He grabs on that. 
 
 "You bet not! This dam war s a mighty 
 busy business night and day especially 
 night!" 
 
 "What s in the war to keep a lonely country 
 tavern busy," says I, "especially at night? 
 That s funny." 
 
 "Well, you try keeping one. First a com 
 pany of Confederates comes and eats me out of 
 Co
 
 WHO WAS LUCAS MALLORY? 
 
 house and home. Then a regiment of Federals 
 does the same." 
 
 "You get your house eaten pretty often, 
 Ben," says I. 
 
 "Some one rides off with a horse," Ben goes 
 on, "leaving me a polite note to the U. S. A. 
 or^he C. S. A., to pay for em. I got twenty 
 such notes ! Well, do you think any of em is 
 going to get paid ? And there are other things 
 keep me busy and poor," but he didn t tell me 
 these. 
 
 "You got hard luck, Ben," says I, "and I ll 
 send the hireland over to cut your trees into 
 fire-wood and help anything else." 
 
 "No, you don t," says Ben, more angry than 
 I could see any excuse for. "You mind your 
 own business and keep to your own pasture and 
 I ll do the same. I know where you stand. 
 And, while we re about it, you might as well 
 know that the neighbors think some of your 
 family had better join something or enlist in 
 the army one side or the other!" 
 
 "Suppose, Ben," says I, "you take your own 
 61
 
 WAR 
 
 advice and tend to your own business and keep 
 behind your own fences and join things and 
 enlist yourself like they say you re doing. If 
 you don t maybe there s a licking due you." 
 
 "Hah!" laughs Ben, "I wouldn t give much 
 for the skin of any man who raises his hand 
 against me! I can bring a thousand men up 
 the valley in ten minutes." 
 
 "Well," says I, madder and madder, "I ll 
 risk my skin and do it now one against a 
 thousand and one !" 
 
 And I would if a squad of Unions hadn t 
 rode up just then. 
 
 "Are these the aforesaid thousand?" I asked 
 Ben. "All right if they re that color." 
 
 "No," says he. "They re not that color, 
 dam you !" 
 
 Of course everybody knew that Ben was a 
 kind of secessionist but I didn t know he was 
 as outspoken and fighty as that. He use to sit 
 in "Africa" at the church right out front. 
 
 The commanding officer studies us both for 
 a minute, and looks up and down the valley, 
 62
 
 WHO WAS LUCAS MALLORY? 
 
 then from the felled trees all about especially 
 at the house and the doors and the windows 
 and whether any other house could be seen 
 from them. But no house except mine could 
 have been seen from Crider s and mine was 
 hid, just as his had been, by thick trees. 
 
 "What are these trees cut down for?" he 
 asks me, thinking I owned them. 
 
 "Fire-wood," grins I. "The soldiers eat me 
 out of fire-wood all the time." 
 
 "Why aren t they made into fire-wood 
 then? They can t be eaten this way." 
 
 "Too busy." 
 
 The officer smiles a little, then says sud 
 den: 
 
 "Where s Lucas Mallory?" 
 
 "Again, please," says I, "I never heard that 
 name before. Is it a bird or a beast?" 
 
 "A man." 
 
 "An Irishman? You re in the wrong county 
 for Irishmen. Three counties further on. Try 
 something Dutch." 
 
 "Don t know anything of Lucas Mallory, 
 
 63
 
 WAR 
 
 eh? Well, then, what do either of you know 
 of Sharon Lodge of the K. of the G. C?" 
 
 "What is that, sir?" asks Ben, very polite 
 and dumb and innocent. 
 
 "Oh, hell !" says the officer. "Knights of the 
 Golden Circle. What are your names? I 
 suppose you know that?" 
 
 I gave him mine. But when it came time for 
 Ben to give his he says : "Phineas Brown, sir," 
 kind of simple, winking to me. 
 
 The officer wrote that down. 
 
 "And where is Crider s ?" says he. 
 
 Ben winked at me again and says : 
 
 "Some six miles further south. In this di 
 rection. Crider passed through here not more 
 than twenty minutes ago, sir, that road, south, 
 sir." 
 
 "What does Crider look like?" 
 
 "He s a tall bald man with whiskers, and 
 looks sneaky," says Ben. 
 
 At that the officer faces his men about and 
 goes off south at a hard gallop. 
 64
 
 WHO WAS LUCAS MALLORY? 
 
 "That s not a good photograph of you, Ben," 
 says I. "Except, maybe, the sneaky parts." 
 
 "You bet not. I suppose I m drafted and 
 they re looking for me," says Ben. "I m going 
 to the woods. You had better do the same for 
 a while in another direction. Don t forget 
 you ve been seen with me." He laughs like 
 the joke s on me. 
 
 And Ben actually starts toward the woods 
 and away from his house. 
 
 I went home a good deal mixed.
 
 VIII 
 
 DAVE 
 
 AJD, a little while afterward, who do you 
 think walks in the house, entirely unex 
 pected ? Dave ! 
 
 My! My old heart got stuck in my throat 
 and nearly choked me to death. Dave laughs 
 like a fiend and pounds me on the back, like 
 they do children that are strangling. 
 
 "Now you better, daddy?" he laughs at last, 
 setting me up careful, in a chair. "What was 
 it? Meat or tobacco?" 
 
 "What do you want here," I says, "beating 
 up the kindest and most unfortunate daddy in 
 the world ? Sit down !" and he sits down on top 
 of me, nearly bursting me open. "Go right 
 back where you came from, you Johnny Reb!" 
 just in fun, of course. I was so happy! 
 
 "I won t!" says Dave. "I ain t of age yet 
 and you got to keep me till I am. You can be 
 66
 
 DAVE 
 
 arrested and sent to jail for turning out such 
 a nice son." 
 
 "Come along," says I. "We ll all be there 
 sooner or later, anyhow the way things are 
 going. It ll be a fine place to keep a little boy 
 out of mischief." 
 
 ^Little boy !" says Dave, lifting me as easy, 
 and carrying me around the room on his shoul 
 der. "Now you behave !" 
 
 He slams me down in a chair and hugs me. 
 
 "Take notice," says he, "that I won t be 
 crowded out of house and home by no second 
 hand female by-marriage cousin." 
 
 "Who told you about her?" asks I. 
 
 "Told me ? Everybody along the road from 
 Virginia to here. Ben Crider and she are good 
 friends." 
 
 /"Now, you don t say so," says I, a good bit 
 soprized at that. "I wonder where she and 
 Ben met." 
 
 "I don t know," says Dave, "but he thinks 
 she s a noble woman !" 
 
 Dave laughs at that, as if he knew the sort 
 67
 
 WAR 
 
 of nobility that would appeal to Ben. But I 
 says : 
 
 "Oh, of course! She s a little bit rebel. 
 Ben s a good bit secessionist when there are 
 no soldiers in blue uniforms about. That ac 
 counts for it." 
 
 "I expect they sit together on the top rail 
 of the fence, like a couple of crows," says 
 Dave, "and talk large talk about the war fix 
 it all up their way " 
 
 "Till the soldiers come," laughs I, "then they 
 take to the woods. Well, Davy," I goes on, 
 like I was distressed, "she s here, the second 
 hand by-marriage female cousin, I can not tell 
 a lie, and, therefore and henceforth and more 
 over, I can t keep you. There s no room. Back 
 you go to Dixie," and I turns him around like 
 I was aiming him south. 
 
 "Ain t the second-hand female cousin by 
 marriage a rebel?" asks Dave. "You 
 
 "A-yes," says I. 
 
 "Under this Union roof! Phew! What?" 
 
 "Just a female one," snickers I. 
 68
 
 DAVE 
 
 "Down in Dixie they re more fighty than the 
 male ones. Gosh they kiss and run their 
 sweethearts off to get shot. They hug their 
 brothers and push em in it. They make red- 
 \vhite-and-red flags out of their clothes and 
 climb poles to put em up. If it was that way 
 up^iere we d lick em. But, as it ain t they ll 
 lick us. If it wasn t for the women Virginia 
 wouldn t have seceded. But they got after the 
 men and pushed em clean through it. If I 
 hadn t got out between two days they was go 
 ing to push me into something. I don t know 
 what it was. Some of the boys say they smelled 
 tar. Well I hate tar except on an axle. 
 Gosh! I saw three men hanging to trees as I 
 took a walk northward in the moonlight. I 
 was so scared that I forgot to go back and 
 kept on here. I don t want anything to do 
 with female rebels. They frighten me. They re 
 too rebly. They ain t satisfied with just 
 speeches and singing like the men. They 
 want to see and hear the real boom-a-lally- 
 booms. I ll just keep on going till I get to 
 69
 
 WAR 
 
 Washington. I ll bet Father Abraham ll be 
 gladder to see me than you are. He s glad to 
 see most any one that s fighty like me nowa 
 days. I guess they ve all gone back on the poor 
 old man, and he can t lick the South without 
 help. And suppose I get shot full of holes 
 it ll be his fault and how ll you like the wind 
 blowing through a nice son of yours woo ! 
 all on account of a second-hand cousin?" 
 
 "I d rather have you air-tight," says I, and 
 we both laughed hearty, at the joke. 
 
 "Say, dad," whispers Dave, "if we can t get 
 shut of one another, maybe we can get shut of 
 the second-hand cousin by marriage. Not?" 
 
 "Maybe," says I. "How?" 
 
 "There s jobs for her all through Virginia," 
 says Dave: "hospital, sewing cartridge bags, 
 making coffee out of rye and chicory, mold 
 ing bullets, making uniforms, talking devilish 
 patriotic to make the men fighty. She can 
 have her choice. Whichever she does best. 
 Virginia s really the place for her. They re 
 mighty busy rebelling down there."
 
 DAVE 
 
 "You ask her, Dave," says I. 
 
 "All right, I will," says Dave. "If she goes, 
 I ll stay. If she stays, I ll go. I expect she 
 has the usual requirements store teeth, large 
 hands and feet, whopper jaw, spectacles?" 
 
 "She has all of them," says I, "and others, 
 
 too humorous to mention." 
 
 f 
 "Well, get out with the second-hand cousin," 
 
 says Dave, after a while. "Why are we wast 
 ing time with her? Sufficient unto the day is 
 the evil thereof. Where s old Jon ? He s worth 
 several thousand second-hand cousins. I want 
 to go fishing with him so s he can catch em 
 and I can carry em home. Observe !" 
 
 And he cut a pigeon wing, stamped hard on 
 the floor, like nigger shows, and sung : 
 
 " Police he came to mend the job 
 He ate the corn and all the cob 
 The same as any other hog 
 A-pulling off the green corn! 
 O-pulling off the green corn! 
 O-fetch along the demijohn! 
 O-come along, my yellow gal, 
 I ll meet you in the morning ! 
 
 71
 
 WAR 
 
 "Can t you come ? 
 
 Oh, yes, I kin 
 Same as any other thing 
 Pulling off the green corn !" 
 
 Such foolishness ! I d have got mad at any 
 body but Dave. And just then he was so 
 handsome and ruddy that I was glad of him 
 glad that he was alive happy my son ! 
 Every time I looked at him I am reminded of 
 David in the Bible. And I thought what a pity 
 it was that such gay and handsome young fel 
 lows were going to war, North and South, to 
 get shot, or cut with sabers or bayonets, maybe 
 killed, maybe left to lie, bloating in the sun, 
 like dead cattle. North or South it was hor 
 rible. 
 
 "Dave," I says, thinking, too, of that night 
 and Jon and Evelyn, "don t you think of going 
 to war on either side. I want you here." 
 
 And Dave answers, smiling and soft : 
 
 "All right, daddy. I ain t in no hurry, if 
 you ain t. I ll stay with you till I grow up." 
 72
 
 DAVE 
 
 "Honest, Dave?" says I. 
 
 "Honest, daddy," says Dave. "Now that 
 I m out of Virginia I ll have a real good chance 
 to finish growing. But I don t think that any 
 body who lives down there ll ever grow up, but 
 be cut off a good lot of em in the days of 
 their youth. When the war is over they ll 
 have to start another population." 
 
 "Is it really as bad as that?" I asks. 
 
 "It s worse," says Dave. "Nothing but war 
 and rumors of war and a little eating and 
 sleeping now and then, when they happen to 
 think of it. No one farms or works or earns 
 anything. Everybody lives on the others." 
 
 "Dave," I says, "I m right glad you came up 
 and didn t obey me for once." 
 
 "Once !" laughs Dave. "When was that? I 
 don t remember ever obeying you." 
 
 That s so," says I, "and I m not mad about 
 it now. You ll promise not to go to war on 
 either side?" 
 
 "Not either or both sides," laughs Dave. 
 
 73
 
 .WAR 
 
 "Thank you, Davy," says I, pleased. "Shake 
 hands on it?" 
 
 "You bet me I will," says Dave. "I m not 
 much of a fighter, anyhow. I expect I m too 
 lazy to lick or get licked. But I m not going 
 to war unless there s some one behind me push 
 ing. Forget it. They can t make me. I m not 
 of age. I don t know what it s about. And 
 where in hell s Jonthy ? Here I come home to 
 fish with him, and he don t come home and 
 fish with me. It won t be like old times till 
 Jonthy takes me on his back fishing will it, 
 daddy?" 
 
 "No," says I. 
 
 "And catches all the fish ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Daddy," says Dave, "you ve heard of songs 
 without words, I expect?" 
 
 "Yes, Davy." 
 
 "Well, daddy, when I fish, that s fishing 
 without fish not?" 
 
 And he sings another song brought up 
 from Virginia, I expect. 
 74
 
 DAVE 
 
 "Oh, so gaily we float, 
 
 On the water so blue, 
 In our tight little boat 
 
 And our jolly good crew " 
 
 "Daddy," he runs on, "there s no one in the 
 whole of Virginia like old Jonthy maybe not 
 in ^the whole world. I have an idea that 
 when the Lord got away from here just here 
 on this farm you know the good stuff 
 gave out and he had to adulterate it. Where 
 is he, anyhow? Oh, tell me where my Jon- 
 thy s gone ! " 
 
 "I expect he ll be around in a little. Can t 
 you be satisfied with your father for a minute 
 or two ?" says I. 
 
 "Certainly, father!" says Dave, in fun, of 
 course. "Ich Hebe dich, du liebst mich, wir 
 lieben den Jonathan aber nicht die second 
 hand female cousin by marriage ain t? 
 Jonthy, Jonthy, Jonthy!" he yells, "ich bin 
 dort del Bruder von Virginia! Komm 
 schwindt!"
 
 IX 
 
 WHEN EVELYN CAME 
 
 WELL, just then, Evelyn, hearing the 
 racket, I expect, came in. Dave 
 thought it was Jon and hid behind the door and 
 jumped out and yelled and flung his arms about 
 her all at once. Gosh-a-mighty ! He looked 
 like he d been shot he was so surprised and 
 close! And Evelyn she was as scared and 
 trembly and fighty as a little heifer and after 
 ward tried to cry and get mad and look ugly 
 all at once. But it was no use. Dave held 
 her by the hands and apologized like a gentle 
 man of the highest kind. He bowed and 
 scraped like she was a queen, and he a prince, 
 and called her "madame" ! But he didn t let 
 her go. And Evelyn at last she just stood 
 still and listened, like his voice was music to 
 her. Then she managed to look sidewise 
 76
 
 WHEN EVELYN CAME 
 
 like birds and Dave caught her eyes fairly in 
 his. So, for a minute. Dave looked the sor 
 row he had for being so fresh. She looked 
 something I had never seen her look before. 
 Then she hung her head and blushed and trem 
 bled. The business the great and wonderful 
 business of love was done that quick! Dave 
 had just mastered her by his gay, open, care 
 less, manly ways. Broke her that quick like 
 he use to break colts. Jon, he could manage 
 animals by just persuading them. But Dave 
 had no time for that. And he made them do 
 what he wanted without any persuading 
 which is much better, for a horse, anyway. 
 And women are a good deal like horses, not? 
 
 Soon Dave s big white teeth begun to show, 
 till he laughed right out. 
 
 "I ll bet seventeen cows, and a calf, for good 
 measure, that this is my cousin Evelyn that s 
 crowded me out of house and home and left 
 me nothing but the haymow !" 
 
 "Yes," says I, "whopper jaw, store teeth 
 and all, ready for the hospital " 
 77
 
 WAR 
 
 Dave put his hand on my mouth so that it 
 hurt. 
 
 "Yes, I m that poor beggar," says Evelyn. 
 "If they hadn t given me your room and 
 things, you d have found me at the poor-house, 
 cousin Did-Dave. Would you have liked that, 
 cousin Did-Dave?" 
 
 She stumbled twice on the "Dave". But 
 Dave had no trouble with "Evelyn"! It 
 seemed sweet in his mouth. 
 
 "No," says Dave, "I wouldn t have liked 
 that. But, now, if you don t take me in part 
 nership, I ll have to go to the haymow a 
 and you won t like that !" 
 
 "Hi how can I, Did-Dave?" asks Evelyn. 
 "Partnership?" 
 
 Dave just breathes his answer: 
 
 "I don t know. It is all so sudden and 
 wonderful. Some day I will tell you. May I ?" 
 
 "Yes," says Evelyn. 
 
 "We ll be comrades, Evelyn ! We ll ride and 
 swim and hunt and fish always together! 
 Will you like that?" 
 
 78
 
 WHEN EVELYN CAME 
 
 "Oh, yes !" says Evelyn. 
 
 "And then we ll see the roses bloom in these 
 cheeks lovely enough now but think of 
 them with roses in !" 
 
 And he kissed them both just a touch on 
 each. 
 
 Evelyn started back, angry, but when she 
 looked and saw his glorious young face she 
 returned maybe for more! 
 
 The sweet way he talked to her of the 
 things they were to do the happiness they 
 were to have ! Presently, like she didn t know 
 she was doing it, Evelyn inched up and hung 
 her arm in Dave s, as happy as he. You have 
 no idea and I am too poor a scholar to tell it. 
 He had won her like with magic. I felt that 
 she would follow Dave, like a dog, to the ends 
 o the world. Her master had come. 
 
 "And what am I to teach you in return for 
 all these beautiful things?" asks Evelyn, at 
 last. 
 
 "Many, many more things than I can teach 
 you, cousin, dear," says Dave, taking her face 
 79
 
 WAR 
 
 in his hands and questioning her eyes. "Some 
 I can not tell you now, because they have taken 
 no form save great joy. Some are too dear to 
 speak of yet. But, I know, already, that I 
 shall be graver, kinder, more considerate of 
 others. Perhaps you may even teach me, out 
 of your own sad lot, what sorrow is. Now I 
 do not know it. You hardly believe that, and 
 I m ashamed to confess it. But daddy and 
 Jon have kept all sorrow from me, while 
 you have probably had my share. Perhaps I 
 can help to lighten yours. Or bear them with 
 you. I wonder why I m so serious? I never 
 was before, was I, daddy?" 
 
 "Take care, Davy," says I. "You re going 
 mighty fast. And there s rapids in the river 
 below you ! Mebby falls !" 
 
 I wonder if he heard me? I think not. But 
 that was funny wasn t it? To think of that! 
 
 "Come, help me to find Jonthy !" he says to 
 Evelyn. 
 
 She d inched up so close to him that, I sup 
 pose, it would have been hard to get closer. 
 80
 
 WHEN EVELYN CAME 
 
 But the moment he asks her to help hunt Jon 
 she smiles and gives him her hand and they 
 start away. 
 
 Now, ain t a woman funny ? I thought when 
 Dave said that about taking her to Jon 
 she would be scared and guilty and not go. 
 Not at all. She never thought about that. In 
 fact, this Evelyn that Dave had discovered was 
 entirely new even to herself, I think. Who d 
 have thought of the same Evelyn who thun 
 dered to Jon, that night, about the great cause, 
 forgetting all about it and Jon, too! the 
 minute Dave takes hold of her hands ! 
 
 Before they got out of sight I heard Dave 
 say: 
 
 " And, then, we ll get married !" 
 
 "Yes !" says Evelyn, as happy as he. 
 
 " And live happy ever after!" 
 
 "For ever and ever !" laughs Evelyn. 
 
 Well, as you can see, they weren t wasting a 
 minute. 
 
 Presently I hears em all three coming up 
 from the barn together, where, I suppose, they 
 81
 
 WAR 
 
 had found Jon. Evelyn was between the two. 
 Dave was swinging her one hand and singing : 
 
 "Dear Evelina, 
 
 Sweet Evelina, 
 My love for you shall never, never die !" 
 
 Jon looked as joyous as any of them 
 holding Evelyn s other hand stiff and sol 
 emn. But, somehow, I pitied him. And it was 
 strange, afterward, that I always thought of 
 my two boys as poor old Jon and happy little 
 Dave. Sorry for the one and glad for the 
 other. 
 
 And that was my trouble seeing my two 
 boys in love with one girl, and that one girl in 
 love with only one of them ! What was I to 
 do? What I might do for Dave would be 
 against Jon and vice versa. So I did nothing ; 
 I couldn t. My hands were tied.
 
 X 
 
 THE PICNIC 
 
 ONE day Evelyn proposed that we all 
 have a picnic to Rostrom Rock over 
 there. But she was trembly and excited 
 about it in a way I never saw before. 
 
 "It ll take us all day to go and come," says I. 
 
 "All the better," says she. "Betsy ll bring 
 all of her best pies and leave the armies to do 
 without them for one day. Let us hurry to get 
 off early." 
 
 "Is Betsy to go, too?" asks I. 
 
 "Everybody even the hireland !" cries Eve 
 lyn, dancing crazy with unusual excitement. 
 
 I wasn t exactly pleased to eat ants with my 
 pie. But Dave and Jon didn t care for a 
 few ants more or less if Evelyn went with 
 em. Betsy was against me, saying that the 
 idea was providential, inasmuch as she had 
 83
 
 WAR 
 
 baked a fine lot of gooseberry pies ! And not 
 a soldier had come after em yet. 
 
 But I said no! and put my foot down, and 
 Evelyn said yes and put hers down. 
 
 And so it stood both stubborn. 
 
 Then Evelyn backed down herself sudden. 
 
 "No, we won t go," she says. "I m afraid. 
 I daren t do it. I won t I won t do it !" 
 
 And she starts away to the house, and up to 
 her room. I saw her look out the window, and 
 swing her arms. 
 
 But she had hardly reached it before she 
 came running back, scared and excited, saying : 
 
 "Yes come on. We got to go. It s or 
 ders." 
 
 "Don t you feel well, Evelyn?" asks Jon. 
 
 "No," says Evelyn, then, "yes." 
 
 "We d better not go," says Jon. 
 
 "I don t know what to do I don t know 
 what yes, we ve got to do it. If I disobey 
 
 She didn t waver any more. But I was still 
 stubborn. Though after Betsy said gooseberry 
 pies I had wobbled. 
 
 84
 
 THE PICNIC 
 
 "I hardly think there will be any left, after 
 the picnic," says Betsy, and that she had about 
 used up the crop. 
 
 That finished me. Gooseberry pies Betsy s 
 kind with molasses instead of sugar in was 
 my besetting sin from my youth up. The 
 bo^s mother used to set em up for me when I 
 went to see her nights, to catch me. Well, 
 they done it notwithstanding many a colic 
 and the Jamaica ginger she gave me for the 
 way home. And she had taught Betsy to make 
 em her way. So I went on that picnic just to 
 get a last piece of gooseberry pie! And it 
 was the last for years to come. Eight miles 
 going and eight miles coming for three no 
 four, pieces of pie and a pain ! What do you 
 think of that for an old fool! But I wasn t so 
 old then as I am now though even now I 
 fall to gooseberry pie ! 
 
 The hireland filled the hay wagon with 
 
 straw, and we all sat on the bottom. I never 
 
 saw Dave so happy. He just stretched out in 
 
 the hay with his back against the seat aside of 
 
 85
 
 Evelyn, and enjoyed her. And she seemed to 
 enjoy Dave. Though now and then a funny 
 scare would come over her face like she re 
 membered something and she would look back 
 the way we had come. For, as we were climb 
 ing upward most of the time, you could look 
 back at our house a couple miles of the way. 
 She made Jon come to her other side. 
 
 And once I heard her whisper, when she was 
 scared that way : 
 
 "Oh, God ! I hope they won t ! I hope they 
 can t!" 
 
 "Won t and can t what ?" asks I. 
 
 "Beat me!" 
 
 Right away she laughs and begins a game 
 with old Jonthy. 
 
 It s piling hands on top of one another and 
 pulling them from under and getting caught 
 and kissed. It -didn t take Jon long to catch 
 her for she was always looking back that 
 way. 
 
 "Kiss her, Jonthy," laughs Dave, and Jon 
 he kissed the hand he had caught. 
 86
 
 THE PICNIC 
 
 "No," says Dave. "You re entitled to one 
 right here " 
 
 Dave kissed her smack on the lips. 
 
 "One, to your credit, Jonthy," says Dave. 
 
 And then, just absently, when she was look 
 ing back that way, and Jon was looking up at 
 her, she catches him ! 
 
 9> 
 
 "Now you got to kiss him !" says Dave, and 
 holds Jon fast while he makes Evelyn kiss him. 
 She don t know she s doing it always looking 
 back. 
 
 Well, you d think if there was anything to 
 show on Jon s face it would be blushes. But 
 he closed his eyes and got pale as a sheet. 
 
 And then he made Dave play and get caught 
 and even me ! And Betsy ! 
 
 Jonthy got away into a corner of the wagon 
 and lay there with his eyes closed and his 
 face still pale, as if he wanted to keep what 
 he had. 
 
 When we got about a mile or so from the 
 house down over some hills where you 
 couldn t even see the chimleys, Evelyn stops 
 87
 
 WAR 
 
 looking back and is happier so happy that we 
 all had a nice time even the hireland. 
 
 Well, I hadn t wanted to go, but, after all, it 
 was fine. I fell in the Ice- Spring, and a snake 
 bit Jon. Otherwise it was a good picnic. 
 
 Coming back, it was just like all picnics all 
 was tired and we lay on our backs in the yel 
 low straw and let the hireland drive. The 
 three youngsters, with little help from me, 
 were happy as happy, and sang a lot of the 
 old songs that took me back to my wife in her 
 grave : Annie Laurie, Her Bright Smile Haunts 
 Me Still, Home Sweet Home, and so on, until 
 we begun to get near home. Then every little 
 while Evelyn would rise and look down the 
 valley until about that same mile from home, 
 when she shivered a bit after looking, and slid 
 down into the straw, cuddled up between Jona 
 than and Dave, and began to cry. 
 
 "What makes you cry, dear?" asks Dave. 
 
 She said nothing. 
 
 "Often," says nice old Jonthy, always ready 
 with oil on the water, "women cry for joy !"
 
 THE PICNIC 
 
 "Yes !" sobs Evelyn. 
 
 "And, it has been a very happy day, hasn t 
 it, sister, deal ? says old Goliath. 
 
 Evelyn nods and slips an arm about each of 
 the boys. 
 
 The sun was just setting. We were driving 
 to\^rd it. The three faces were before me. 
 Jon s was white with the eyes staring and the 
 hands clenched. 
 
 Evelyn was scared and breathing hard and 
 fast harder and faster as we got nearer home. 
 Her hands were clenched, too and uncon 
 sciously she drew the boys as hard to her as 
 she could, as if they were both to protect her 
 from something. 
 
 Dave s face was full of pure almost child 
 ish joy! Just nothing but joy! He was 
 singing all alone this time. But he had a 
 bully big tenor voice and I liked to hear him. 
 The nearest neighbors didn t. 
 
 "Dear Evelina, 
 Sweet Evelina, 
 My love for vou shall never, never, die !" 
 
 89
 
 WAR 
 
 Then, night fell. At the last I could still see 
 the eyes of Jon and Evelyn staring out of the 
 dusk. And Dave s voice, softer and softer, 
 kept on singing : 
 
 " My love for you shall never, never die !" 
 
 So we came home. It was very dark. The 
 hireland told us to stand still and hold the 
 horses till he got a lantern. My boys stood, 
 one on each side of Evelyn. Dave was singing 
 the last strain : 
 
 " never, never die !" 
 
 We started away to the house as soon as the 
 hireland got his lantern going. Evelyn left the 
 boys and took my arm. For some reason we 
 were all very quiet. It was queer. 
 
 I thought I saw several shadows move away 
 from the house in the darkness. 
 
 "What is that, Evelyn?" I asks. "Men? 
 What are they doing here?" 
 
 I was a little excited. 
 
 Evelyn quiets me and says : 
 90
 
 THE PICNIC 
 
 "Sh ! No. I thi think it s the cows. They 
 were lying down and we disturbed them. Yes 
 it was the cows." 
 
 "Not on your life," says I. "The cows 
 wouldn t run for us. Anyhow, it would be the 
 first time they ever got out of the way. They d 
 let^ T ou fall over em first. We got to be care 
 ful about men around the place. I didn t think 
 of it till now. But there s been no one about 
 all day! It s war-times, Evelyn, and, if you 
 ever see any one about you must tell me." 
 
 "Yes, daddy, dear," she says, excitedly. 
 
 "We ll look around and see whether they ve 
 taken anything," says I. 
 
 Things looked queer, even in the dark. And, 
 first I know, I tumbles over a tree ! 
 
 Well! Some one had cut down the finest 
 oak in the circle around the house! on the 
 south side! 
 
 "My great-grandfather Hiliary planted that 
 tree," says I, hot and hard, "and it would be 
 as much as his life would be worth for me to 
 find the rascal who did it !"
 
 .WAR 
 
 Dave smells the chips and says : 
 
 "It s just been finished !" 
 
 Jon rubs his hand over the stump. 
 
 "The sap is still as thin as water," says he. 
 "It hasn t been down ten minutes. I ve cut 
 down enough trees to know !" 
 
 "Come," says Dave, "he s not far away. 
 That was him or them daddy saw. Come 
 on, we can get him!" 
 
 He starts away, fighty as a young bull. But 
 Evelyn clutches him. 
 
 Then she acts as if she didn t know why 
 she done it. 
 
 "Don t don t leave me alone," she says, 
 at last, and the way she was trembling proved 
 that she oughtn t to be left alone. 
 
 Jonthy, he comes up and takes hold of Dave. 
 
 "Yes," he says, "there is something better 
 than trees after all here to be anxious 
 about. We ve forgotten it in our anger." 
 
 Of course, Dave is scared about Evelyn and 
 gives it up killing the marauders. 
 92
 
 THE PICNIC 
 
 Jon and Dave had things to say, neverthe 
 less, not warranted by Scripture, or their 
 training, about secessionists and sympathizers 
 getting even. But Evelyn said nothing only 
 I could feel her shaking. 
 
 "What do you think of this business, Eve 
 lyn**" asks I. "You got a good head." 
 
 "It was a bi beautiful tri tree, daddy, 
 dear," she says, "and and I think I will go to 
 bed!" 
 
 And she starts right off, without another 
 word, crying like a baby. 
 
 We were all stumped for a minute, and then, 
 nice old Jon, as usual, fixes it. 
 
 "She loved that tree, daddy and Dave," 
 and he puts his arms around both of us, and 
 I know he was smiling that inward smile of 
 his, "it was right before her window. She 
 loved it just as she loves us and, just as if 
 one of us should be cut down in his strength, 
 she weeps for it! Come! We can t quite 
 weep. But we can understand her weeping 
 can t we, daddy and Dave ? She loved it !" 
 93
 
 WAR 
 
 Yes, says Dave, and yes, says I. But I don t 
 think either of us understood that like dear 
 old Jonthy did. 
 
 The idea didn t occur to me until I saw it 
 accidentally, some time after that there was 
 now a clear space between Crider and us ! He 
 could see our chimley-tops. From our garret 
 window I could see his. And even then I 
 didn t know what to do with the idea. 
 
 But Jon did. 
 
 He said that since our quarrel, about which 
 I had told him, Crider was angry. He was a 
 bad man to have against one, and had got 
 even by doing for us what we had thought sus 
 picious when he did it for himself. 
 
 "Yes," I says, "that s just it the fire-wood 
 business Well, I ll let him know about it 
 maybe with a club! right off the old tree!" 
 
 "No, no," laughs Jon. "No fighting just 
 
 now. No more enemies than we must make. 
 
 Keep the peace, daddy, so that we keep our 
 
 heads," laughs Jon. "We need em now and 
 
 94
 
 THE PICNIC 
 
 here. Especially if our neighbors don t like 
 our trees." 
 
 And as that seemed good advice, I let Crider 
 pass a number of times when I could have 
 tripped him over the bank into Mud Creek 
 where he belonged.
 
 XI 
 
 OF THE CHANGE WHICH DAVE BROUGHT 
 
 DAVE S coming was the beginning of a 
 great change all around. He and Eve 
 lyn never noticed it. I had heard tell, before, 
 that love was the most selfish thing on earth, 
 and didn t believe it. But I could see it now, 
 right before my eyes. Evelyn took to the rid 
 ing and fishing and swimming, just as hard as 
 Dave said she would. At last she could do 
 them all as well as Dave himself at least, so 
 he said. And it did for Evelyn all that Dave 
 had said it would. She got strong and graceful 
 as a deer, and it was a sight, I can tell you, to 
 see them tearing up the Red Rock Road, early 
 in the morning, while the way was still too 
 damp for dust, she on Dave s black, and he on 
 another black he d traded in to match her. I 
 never saw such riding anywhere. I use to 
 96
 
 THE CHANGE DAVE BROUGHT 
 
 sneak up to the Chestnut Woods, where the 
 road ran through a cut, just to see em fly past 
 laughing and yelling, and playing monkey 
 shines, and making believe to outrun each other 
 but never getting far apart. They wasn t only 
 two, they was four. And the horses knew it 
 as^well as any one. Yes, Dave brought the 
 roses to her cheeks like he said and some 
 thing, I expect, they hadn t counted on so 
 much : a happy hungry look that wasn t satis 
 fied without Dave was right there to satisfy it. 
 
 And another thing they hadn t bargained for 
 was nice old Jon. When any one was look 
 ing he smiled and kept busy. But when he 
 thought he was alone, the look of one de 
 serted came over him. Of course, Dave didn t 
 know anything. But Evelyn did, and I often 
 wondered if she never thought of that night 
 under the plum trees. I don t think she ever 
 did. Yes, love is selfish. 
 
 One day Dave and Evelyn came running in 
 to dinner, just off the horses, with extra red 
 cheeks, and I saw the old yearning come 
 97
 
 WAR 
 
 strong into Jon s eyes. Sometimes he couldn t 
 keep it out. I expect Dave saw it, too. 
 
 "No, no, Jonthy," he says, "you can t have 
 em. They re mine. I made em." 
 
 "What?" asks I. I suppose I am a little 
 dull at the head like the soldiers said. 
 
 "These !" says Dave, and up and kissed both 
 her cheeks. 
 
 Evelyn clapped both hands on em, like she 
 was ashamed but happy. Dave just took her 
 hands away and did it again. 
 
 "Yes, Jonthy, dear, they re mine. In fact, 
 Jonthy, the whole girl s mine from here to 
 here. Ain t you glad? Ain t you, daddy?" 
 
 He motioned from her head to her feet. 
 
 "Yes," says Jon, dragging it out by the roots, 
 "I am glad, Dave, old boy!" 
 
 He slaps Dave on the back and laughs, but 
 he couldn t go any further. 
 
 "I forgot to feed the cows!" he says, and 
 rushes out! 
 
 Jon couldn t stand any more of that. He 
 managed for a while to be about with them as 
 98
 
 THE CHANGE DAVE BROUGHT 
 
 often as usual, and smiled as much, but never 
 for more than a minute at a time too little for 
 anything to happen in. In fact, after a while, 
 he arranged to be busy when we ate, pleading 
 that in case the war brought us trouble we 
 ought to have everything ready to abandon 
 whjph was true because it was at the table 
 that things like the rose business, mostly, hap 
 pened. And, after a while, he always ate alone 
 and no one missed him but me. And I saw 
 that this, hard as it was for old Jon, was best 
 even for him. Yes, love is selfish. They 
 didn t notice. 
 
 Finally, Jon was in the fields or the barn all 
 the time and we saw almost nothing of him. 
 I would take most of his meals out to him. 
 And according to Jon, so that he might not dis 
 turb the rest of us, he would often stop at the 
 barn and sleep with the hireland. At last he 
 slept in the barn all the time just, I think, 
 so that Dave could be in his bed, and near 
 Evelyn. At first I could hardly believe that 
 Dave would let it go at that. But he went and 
 99
 
 WAR 
 
 slept in Jon s bed without so much as a 
 "Thank-you-sir," and let Jon sleep in the barn 
 with Wasser and the hireland. In fact, he 
 never noticed it. 
 
 So it went on till I thought Jonathan the 
 loneliest boy in the whole world, and Dave the 
 happiest and most thoughtless. And the 
 more Dave forgot Jon, the more Jon remem 
 bered Dave. He just brooded over him, like 
 a hen with one little chicken. Dave didn t see 
 anything but Evelyn. But I saw the thousands 
 of little things Jon put in the way of Dave s 
 happiness, and the other thousands he took 
 out of it. I reckon no boy s road to heaven 
 was ever made so smooth. 
 
 Like this : Dave took a little cold, or some 
 thing, and got hot in the night. Once in a 
 while Jon d sneak in the house, when Dave 
 was asleep, and go up to his room and 
 look at him just stand and look. When I 
 caught him at it, he said that he d come to get 
 some of his things in the room. But I knew 
 better. He came to look at Dave nothing 
 100
 
 THE CHANGE DAVE BROUGHT 
 
 less. Else why were there tears in his eyes? 
 Do you suppose he cried about getting his 
 Sunday coat out of the closet? Well, he hap 
 pened to come that night Dave was hot. He 
 sees his flushed face, feels his pulse, runs out 
 and jumps on the new black and rides to town 
 
 for the doctor. Coming back the black jumped 
 
 t> 
 the bars and run in the open stable door with 
 
 the bit in his teeth and broke Jon s head. It 
 was a trick Dave taught the horse that Jon 
 didn t know of. Dave used to lay down on the 
 side of her neck. 
 
 When the doctor came it was Jon he had 
 to fix up. He was out of his head a good 
 while. Dave and Evelyn stayed with him and 
 nursed him faithful, and I thought now they 
 would take notice and things would be better. 
 But as soon as Jon got better he d make 
 em go out for a walk or something and 
 soon it was the same old thing and they let 
 Jon get well himself. Jon was Dave s guardian 
 angel, and Dave didn t even know that he had 
 one! 
 
 101
 
 WAR 
 
 And what was I to do? Do you think I 
 slept all night and every night in the midst of 
 this? I thought of a thousand ways to end 
 it. But I always came up against the same 
 stone walls. Helping one would hurt the 
 other. 
 
 Yet, now, when Jon got about again, and I 
 must see his sunken blue eyes, and his broken 
 and unsteady ways, it seemed like I must do 
 something. 
 
 "Jonthy," I says we were out under the 
 plums again "it is time we had some talk." 
 
 "Yes, daddy," smiles Jon, taking hold of my 
 hand, "go on." 
 
 "I see the whole thing, Jonthy, and I hate to 
 meddle, but I must." 
 
 "What whole thing?" smiles Jon. 
 
 "That Dave has forgotten your existence," 
 says I, "and that you remember his ten times 
 as much as ever. That he s taken Evelyn " 
 
 "Ah, hush, daddy," says Jon, still smiling, 
 "would you say a word, do a thing, to diminish 
 that wonderful happiness?" 
 1 02
 
 THE CHANGE DAVE BROUGHT 
 
 "Wouldn t you?" I asks. 
 
 "Not a word, not a thing," smiles Jon. "On 
 the contrary, dear old daddy, I spend half 
 the time I ought to sleep thinking of ways to 
 make the happiness more and more wonderful. 
 I thought I loved her, daddy. I told her it was 
 the greatest love ever man had for woman. 
 But, daddy, the wonder of Dave s love makes 
 me ashamed of mine. And hers ! It is as great 
 as his. Why, what is it that he forgets us? 
 We are small things in his world. And how 
 can it be otherwise ? There is nothing but her 
 for him, nothing but him for her. Daddy, I 
 was an apprentice. I had to learn love. But 
 Dave is it. Didn t you notice how he put it 
 on like a garment the moment he saw her? 
 Well, it was a garment that was waiting for 
 him from the beginning of the world. It didn t 
 have to be fitted like mine. And she ! When 
 they met it was, at last, as if her restless mili 
 tant spirit had found its nest. She put her 
 head upon his heart and slept." 
 103
 
 WAR 
 
 "No, she didn t do that," I said. "I was 
 there!" 
 
 "Daddy, dear, I mean," laughs nice old 
 Jon, "that, there, like Christian, in Pilgrim s 
 Progress, which I am sure you know, she laid 
 down all her burdens and was at rest. Do you 
 understand now?" 
 
 "Yes," I says to my son, "I understand 
 what you mean though it didn t happen ; and 
 thank you, Jonthy, for having such beautiful 
 thoughts about Dave and Evelyn, true or false, 
 after the way they treat you." 
 
 "Ah, the way they treat me! If they didn t 
 do that, it would not be the wonderful thing it 
 is. The way they treat me ! Why, daddy, that 
 is the thing which makes me most glad ! That 
 is the proof that it is wonderful. Have you 
 never experienced the heavenly sensation of 
 giving up for another yes, for another you 
 love more than yourself?" 
 
 "Jonthy," says I, "here you go out of my 
 sight and hearing again. Return. If you 
 104
 
 THE CHANGE DAVE BROUGHT 
 
 mean the happy-with-another business, no. I 
 had the chance when I was courting your 
 mother." 
 
 "And you did it?" 
 
 "I broke his head." 
 
 "Ah, but he wasn t your brother. Yes, I 
 
 think, if any one but Dave had taken her, I 
 
 * 
 
 would break his head."
 
 XII 
 DAVE S BUSINESS 
 
 STRANGE things happen in war like I 
 said especially when one lives so close 
 to it. And so, funny people kept coming and 
 going, asking funny questions. At last Evelyn 
 said, kind of shivery, she d better see em, 
 they d be polite to her so s to keep me from 
 breaking the commandments all to pieces just 
 in fun, of course. And so she did mostly 
 getting rid of them easy. Soldiers were pass 
 ing all the time, and stopping to water their 
 horses and fill their haversacks and ask ques 
 tions, and not always Union soldiers. Only 
 the Unions rode in the daytime and the others 
 rode mostly at night. 
 
 But one day a squad of Union cavalry rode 
 up and pounded on the door with their car 
 bines not even bothering to water the horses 
 1 06
 
 DAVE S BUSINESS 
 
 at the trough ! Evelyn was "in town," as she 
 said, where she d been going often of late 
 sighing and dragging herself off. Jon was 
 fishing. I answered the door. 
 
 "Can t you wait a minute ?" yells I, from the 
 up-stairs. "Don t break in the door. There s 
 not much of it left, so many of yous come 
 pounding on it. I ain t no Knight, or sym 
 pathizer, or spy." 
 
 "What s your name ?" asks the lieutenant as 
 soon as I got the door open. 
 
 I d got used to answering that, so I says, as 
 sharp as he: 
 
 "Stephen Vonner." 
 
 The lieutenant turns and nods to his men. 
 
 "He s telling the truth, boys, anyhow !" 
 
 He was the same man that had asked our 
 names at Crider s. 
 
 "How many in your family?" 
 
 "Three," says I. 
 
 "Men or women?" 
 
 "Men." 
 
 "No children or ladies?" he asks savage. 
 107
 
 WAR 
 
 "Betsy, the cook," says I, "but she s no lady. 
 Hired. Anyhow, ladies don t count." 
 
 "Let us see her," commands the officer. 
 
 I calls her and Betsy conies. She s so fat I 
 have to step aside so she can get through the 
 door. They all laughs and the officer says : 
 
 "Betsy, go back to your cooking." 
 
 "And next, you ll be asking for pies!" says 
 Betsy, wheeling so sudden she almost knocked 
 me over. 
 
 "Ah ! Wait !" calls the officer. "You, your 
 self, have sealed their doom, Betsy. We 
 haven t time to stop for the dinner you are 
 cooking. But pies !" 
 
 He opens his haversack and shows that it is 
 empty. And, at a motion from him, his men 
 do the same. 
 
 "Betsy," he goes on, "these brave fellows 
 are fighting for you that you may stay here 
 and bake pies for, I can see in one look, that 
 you are Union. Now, Betsy, what do you 
 think?" He points to the empty haversacks. 
 
 Says Betsy : 
 
 1 08
 
 DAVE S BUSINESS 
 
 "I always keep something on hand for 
 them " she points to the haversacks too! 
 "ever since the war began !" 
 
 And Betsy filled them while they all clapped 
 their hands, like at theaters. Doughnuts, pies, 
 tied between tin plates so s they wouldn t get 
 bro^e, bread wrapped in napkins, sweet cakes, 
 coffee in little tin boxes, flour in bags, and even 
 jam in sardine boxes! That s the kind of 
 Union old Betsy was ! 
 
 The soldiers took off their hats. 
 
 "Betsy," says the lieutenant, "it s such as 
 you that s going to save the Union. You re 
 worth a regiment of fighting men. You know, 
 an army moves upon its belly. And you pro 
 vide the belly. Boys, three cheers for Betsy !" 
 
 And they gave em, while Betsy wipes her 
 eyes. 
 
 "I do my share, Lieutenant," says Betsy, 
 "and a little more, because some others on the 
 border don t !" 
 
 The officer got back to business right 
 straight. 
 
 109
 
 WAR 
 
 "What do you mean ?" he asks, in that sharp 
 way. 
 
 "The border s honeycombed with spies and 
 sympathizers," says Betsy. 
 
 "Who ? You know some of them !" says the 
 officer. 
 
 Betsy says: 
 
 "No, I don t know any of em, but I know 
 their doings. Ain t the church nailed shut? 
 Where ll I go on Sunday now?" 
 
 Betsy goes away, and the officer looks 
 thoughtful for a moment. Then he says to 
 another officer: 
 
 "Betsy s loyal that s certain." 
 
 They laugh together. 
 
 "Any others in your household?" asks the 
 officer. 
 
 "One more," says I, "but she s only a girl 
 and, anyhow, she s gone away." 
 
 "When did she go?" 
 
 Well, I didn t want em riding after Evelyn 
 and bothering her scaring her to death with 
 questions so, I answers : 
 no
 
 DAVE S BUSINESS 
 
 "Oh, some time ago. I don t remember just 
 when." 
 
 Which was, really, exactly true. 
 
 "When do you expect her back ?" 
 
 I just shakes my head, like I d say I don t 
 know, but leaving him to read it "Never," if he 
 liked. You just couldn t tell x them fellows 
 everything. 
 
 "Was she your daughter?" 
 
 "Adi, no!" says I, real hearty. 
 
 "Any relation?" 
 
 "No relation at all," says I. "Just a caller." 
 
 "Oh !" says they. "A caller !" and laughs. 
 
 Well that s nearly so. I meant visitor. 
 
 "There were only two men in your family a 
 while ago," says the officer to me. "Where 
 who is the other one?" 
 
 "The other one?"I laughs. "Why, Dave, of 
 course." 
 
 "Who s Dave?" 
 
 "Dave? My boy." 
 
 "Where did he come from?" > 
 
 "Virginia," says I. 
 
 in
 
 WAR 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 And a whole lot of "ohs" echoed from the 
 men. 
 
 "What was his business there?" 
 
 "School he was going to college." 
 
 "There are colleges all about you here Bal 
 timore, Philadelphia, Washington better ones 
 than any in Virginia. Why was he sent there?" 
 
 "Goshens," says I, "that s the first time I 
 ever been asked that question and the first time 
 I ever thought about it. I don t know oh I 
 expect it s because all the Vonners which got 
 educated, went to William and Mary College. 
 Mebby that s it. We all do as our fathers 
 done." 
 
 "Shrewd!" says the officer to the man be 
 hind him, who nods yes. 
 
 Well, that s the first and, be goshens, the 
 last time any one ever called me that! 
 
 "Sure he has come just now? All Union 
 men left Virginia long ago. Had to." 
 
 "Man!" says I, "why he s, why he s just a 
 
 112
 
 DAVE S BUSINESS 
 
 boy our baby. He don t know Union from 
 pot-cheese! No, nor rebel, either. And he s 
 been home some time. You don t know the 
 news." 
 
 That sort of stopped them for a minute. 
 
 "Let us see him," says the officer then. 
 
 I turns and yells in the house, funny : 
 
 "Little Davy, come out. Some gentlemen 
 wants to see you. I don t want em to, but 
 they won t go unless you come toddling out !" 
 
 And I laughs to think how they d be fooled 
 when they saw my baby. 
 
 Well, they was and not over well pleased 
 to be fooled. 
 
 Dave comes loafing to the door in his shirt 
 sleeves, looking bigger than ever. He was 
 reading something a newspaper scrap and 
 didn t bother much about the soldiers. 
 
 "Baby, eh?" says they, and laughs most as 
 hard as I had. "Very shrewd." 
 
 Then the officer says, again to the one be 
 hind him:
 
 WAR 
 
 "What do you make of it? Why were we 
 to think him a child? Too much or too little 
 here?" 
 
 He touches his head. 
 
 "Too little," nods the officer. 
 
 "I don t agree with you. But the boy ?" 
 
 "Maybe," nods the second in command. 
 
 Then the officer says to Dave: 
 
 "What were you doing down in Virginia, 
 my little boy?" 
 
 "Eating and drinking and sleeping, my tall 
 old man," says Dave. "What are you doing up 
 in Maryland?" 
 
 "Trying to find out what you are doing 
 there!" 
 
 "Well, go on," says Dave. "I m sorry for 
 you." 
 
 "Why?" asks the officer. 
 
 "You don t look like you loved work." 
 
 "What s your business ?" asks the soldier. 
 
 "Loafing," says Dave. 
 
 "And how long has that been your busi 
 ness?" 
 
 114
 
 DAVE S BUSINESS 
 
 "Ever since," answers Dave. 
 
 "And how long is that?" 
 
 "Ask daddy, here. He begun it. I was born 
 that way." 
 
 "How long have you lived here ?" 
 
 "Ask daddy," says Dave. "He s got it in a 
 book somewheres, I expect." 
 
 *lf you won t tell me what you were doing 
 down in Virginia, and exactly when you came 
 North, and why, perhaps you ll tell me what 
 you are doing here now?" 
 
 "Same thing," says Dave, "as in Virginia." 
 
 "Oh!" says the second in command, as if 
 he had found something out, "the same thing! 
 You notice that he says he is doing the same 
 thing up here!" 
 
 "Are you doing it alone," asks the officer, 
 "or have you help?" 
 
 "Oh! I have a good deal of help. Most 
 every man round who knows what I am doing 
 wants to help." 
 
 "You don t say so! Reports made it bad
 
 WAR 
 
 enough, but I didn t think it was that bad. 
 Thank you. Go on." 
 
 "My real name, and it s real name, and 
 everything?" says Dave. 
 
 "Never mind your name and its name. We 
 know them both. Proceed with the rest." 
 
 Then Dave turns to the officer and kicks the 
 boards with his toes, like he s guilty of some 
 thing. 
 
 "I might as well be honest with you," he 
 says, "since you re bound to know." 
 
 "That sounds better," nodded the officer to 
 his second. "Go on. You ll not regret telling 
 me." 
 
 "I have been doing one thing up here that I 
 didn t do down there," admits Dave. 
 
 "Aha !" cries the lieutenant, slapping the ser 
 geant, hearty. "Now we re getting to it. I 
 told you so." To Dave he says, nice and sweet : 
 "Go on. I can not promise you immunity, but 
 I will promise the lightest punishment that the 
 government can inflict." 
 116
 
 DAVE S BUSINESS 
 
 "Goshens! Does the government punish 
 it?" asks Dave. 
 
 "It does, sir. The punishment is death, sir. 
 But, sir, so kind and merciful is our president 
 that any one who confesses and satisfies the 
 president that he will do so no more ahem ! 
 I think I can promise, at least, that he will not 
 die for it." 
 
 "Death?" says Dave. "That s a hard pun 
 ishment for " 
 
 "Not at all. No, sir, death is the only fit 
 punishment for it." 
 
 "What s the matter with marriage?" asks 
 Dave, solemn as an owl. 
 
 "Marriage?" says the officer. "No one has 
 mentioned marriage." 
 
 "I know better," says Dave. "I have, a lot 
 of times." 
 
 "Well, sir? Come, make a clean breast of 
 it and I ll do what I can " 
 
 "What s the use " says Dave, in a pout 
 "what s the use my breast may as well stay 
 dirty if it s wrong to be in " 
 117
 
 WAR 
 
 "Come, come ! We are losing time. Camp 
 bell will take it down." 
 
 Campbell got out some paper and a pencil. 
 
 "Now, sir, quickly, and briefly, what was 
 the other thing you did when you came North 
 from Virginia?" 
 
 "Fell in love," says Dave, still solemn. 
 
 "What? What s that? Campbell, never 
 mind, just yet. Now, then, sir, repeat that and 
 I ll arrest you!" yells the officer. 
 
 "Then I won t repeat it," says Dave. 
 
 "Do you hear that, Campbell ? he refuses to 
 repeat his confession. Put him under " 
 
 Campbell salutes and says : 
 
 "The only thing he has confessed, sir, as far 
 as I can see, is that he has fallen in love." 
 
 "Is that so, sir?" thunders the lieutenant. 
 "That you have confessed nothing but falling 
 in love?" 
 
 "That s all," sighs Dave, like he was tired, 
 and winking hard at me., 
 
 "Well, sir. I ve a great mind to arrest you 
 for that, sir I" 
 
 118
 
 DAVE S BUSINESS 
 
 "I m sorry," says Dave. "I didn t know that 
 I could be arrested for it." 
 
 By this time all the soldiers was laughing at 
 the fool-officer. And mad ! Phew ! 
 
 For a minute I didn t know whether he was 
 going to run Dave through the bosom with his 
 swqrd, or not. Then he slaps the other two on 
 the shoulders, put his sword up, and they all 
 laughs like blazes. 
 
 "Constantly looking for treason makes one 
 silly about it, I guess," he says to the others. 
 "I got what I deserve." To Dave he says : "1 
 won t arrest you just yet. I m rather in 
 clined to shake your hand. I like a man who 
 gets the better of me and is in love !" 
 
 He held out his hand and Dave takes it. 
 But, as he does so, he exposes the newspaper 
 scrap that he has been reading. 
 
 "What have you been reading?" asks the 
 officer. "I may not be so far off, after all." 
 
 "Nothing," says Dave, indifferent. 
 
 But the officer takes the paper out of his 
 hand. 
 
 119
 
 WAR 
 
 "Jefferson Davis s speech last week at Chat 
 tanooga!" he says. " Why the Confederacy 
 can not fail. 
 
 "Excuse me. I was reading the other side," 
 says Dave. "The little rebel girl I m in love 
 with sent it to me. See? The other side is 
 poetry. Give it back to me." 
 
 But the officer put it in his pocket. 
 
 "Is this girl Southern?" asks the officer. 
 
 "Lord!" says Dave. "The Southernest of 
 the Southern! She s the rebelest rebel yet! If 
 all the rebel soldiers would fight as hard as she 
 does, the war wouldn t last a month !" 
 
 "The one we spoke of a while ago?" laughs 
 the officer. 
 
 "The same one," answers Dave. 
 
 "You are going to marry her?" asks the 
 officer. 
 
 "She ll never get away from me !" says 
 Dave. "If I die for it like you said." 
 
 "That s fine," says the officer. "But I sup 
 pose it will be some time yet, before you go 
 to Virginia to marry her, Mr. Mr. Mallory?" 
 120
 
 DAVE S BUSINESS 
 
 He sprung it on Dave just like on me. But 
 Dave never winked. 
 
 "Vonner," says Dave, easy as you like, 
 "Dutch, not Irish." 
 
 "Yes? Excuse me," says the officer. "But, 
 if there were such a person hereabouts you 
 would know it, eh?" 
 
 "Daddy would," says Dave. "He knows 
 everything, and he d be sure to tell me. Pie 
 can t keep no secret, can you, daddy ?" and he 
 winks at me, right before them all. 
 
 "So I supposed, Mr. Mallory." 
 
 Then Dave got mad 
 
 "Vonner, I told you. What are you about, 
 anyhow ? Suppose you tell us where you came 
 from and what you are and where you are 
 going? Don t think because you re in brass 
 buttons and blue clothes that you own the uni 
 verse. We see enough uniforms about here 
 not to be scared of em." 
 
 "And some gray ones, I have no doubt, 
 Mr." 
 
 "Vonner," says Dave, "for fear you ll for- 
 121
 
 WAR 
 
 get it again. Yes, lots of gray ones. And, any 
 how, they don t bother us as much as the blue 
 ones. They re a heap-sight more polite." 
 
 "I believe you, Mr. " 
 
 "Vonner." 
 
 "Yes, that s quite natural. Thank you for 
 a pleasant morning. I shall hope to meet you 
 again." 
 
 "Not if I see you first," laughs Dave. 
 
 "No," nods the officer, "not if you see me 
 first. I ll take care of that ! And I ll keep an 
 eye on this love-affair, too. It interests me. 
 I like love-affairs. We shall be sure to meet 
 again, Mr. Mallory," and he laughs and winks, 
 as he rides off. "For you re sure to stay here 
 now that we know its name and yours." 
 
 "There s that Mallory again," says I, when 
 they were gone. 
 
 "Where?" says Dave. "If you ll show him 
 to me I ll spoil his face. I suppose he looks like 
 me." 
 
 "Is that the reason you want to spoil his 
 face?" 
 
 122
 
 DAVE S BUSINESS 
 
 "Yes. I won t have a twin round here 
 where Evelyn is. She might take him for me." 
 
 We laughs and slaps each other just in fun, 
 as any one can see.
 
 XIII 
 
 WERE THERE UNIONS OR CONFEDERATES IN 
 HARG S WOODS? 
 
 I HAPPENS to be at the dormer window a 
 couple of minutes later, and sees the soldiers 
 at the turn in the Red Rock Road. Only about 
 half of the squad was there. I wondered what 
 had become of the rest until three days later, 
 when I meets them camped in Harg s woods, 
 just about a half-mile away. 
 
 About the same time I notices that there s 
 always some one, dressed in any kind of old 
 clothes, where he can see the back door, and 
 another where he can see the front door. 
 
 Dave notices these loafers, too. 
 
 "They re just stealing green corn and pota 
 toes," says he. "Let them alone. It won t hurt 
 us much and will give them colic." 
 
 "But, where do they come from?" I asks. 
 124
 
 UNION OR CONFEDERATE? 
 
 "There s a camp of Johnnies in Harg s 
 woods." 
 
 "Davy," says I, "you need the eye-doctor." 
 
 "Why?" says Dave. 
 
 "They re Unions." 
 
 "Rebels." 
 
 ^Unions." 
 
 And so we went on denying, till Dave 
 dragged me around to see. 
 
 Well, it looked like he was right. 
 
 "It s funny," says I, "but you fellows look 
 exactly like the Unions that was down at my 
 house, there, the other day. I remember your 
 faces." 
 
 "All soldiers look alike," laughs one. 
 
 "Not on your life," says I. "I could swear 
 that you . What you doing here, anyhow? 
 It s dangerous. Unions are about most all 
 the time." 
 
 "Yes, it s dangerous," nods the soldier, "but 
 we re looking out." And he makes monkey 
 shines with his hands and fingers to Dave and 
 me. "And you re assisting us to look out, eh?"
 
 WAR 
 
 "What s it all about?" asks Dave. 
 
 "We are helping some bulky material South 
 by the Underground," says he. "And all the 
 assistance we can get just now is needed." 
 
 He makes more monkey-business with his 
 hands and feet. Up, down right, left 
 circles, all around. 
 
 "You don t need to be so exceedingly care 
 ful, Mr. Vonner " 
 
 He looked straight at me with some more 
 signs. 
 
 "and Mr. Mallory " 
 
 Straight at Dave with the same hocus-pocus. 
 
 " you re among friends." 
 
 "Lunatics," says Dave. "The asylum is at 
 Mount Hope, about twenty miles away. Did 
 you get out or are you on your way in?" 
 
 "Do you mean to say that you don t under 
 stand?" 
 
 "The deaf and dumb language is foreign to 
 us," says Dave. 
 
 "Is this the same?" asks one, turning the 
 lapel of his coat and showing a badge made by 
 126
 
 UNION OR CONFEDERATE? 
 
 cutting the Indian head out of one of the big, 
 old, copper cents. 
 
 "The same," says Dave. 
 
 "Let me see that," says I. 
 
 He handed it over to me. 
 
 "Well," I says, "when I was more a fool 
 tha<i I am now, I was a little bit of a Copper 
 head. This is the thing they used to wear to 
 show each other who they was." 
 
 "And you couldn t do so little for the cause 
 as to help run a few mules across the border 
 to-night, and lead a few recruits south of the 
 Potomac, you and our other friends here?" 
 
 "I won t think of it," says Dave, "unless it s 
 a thousand mules. A few are not enough!" 
 
 He drags me off. 
 
 And that night at the table, Dave tells all 
 about the fun he d had that day, being taken 
 for Mallory, and tells Evelyn he s going to take 
 her around the next day, to have some fun, too, 
 and see whether they ll take her for Mallory. 
 
 Evelyn got as white as a sheet, and nearly 
 fell off her chair. 
 
 127
 
 WAR 
 
 "Oh, well," says Dave, "if you feel that way 
 we won t." 
 
 "I don t want to go I don t want to go- 
 says Evelyn. Starting to her room. 
 
 She was sick in bed the next day.
 
 XIV 
 BETSY S PIES AGAIN 
 
 ANYHOW, another squad of Unions come 
 JL jLaround. 
 
 "Well," I says, "you re a funny lot. Now 
 you re all dressed up in Union uniforms. What 
 are you, anyhow? Unions or Johnnies?" 
 
 "Do you think you have seen us before?" 
 laughs the lieutenant in command. 
 
 "I do," says I. 
 
 "We are here for the last time, to find out 
 from the people, like yourself, whom we know 
 to be loyal, what is going on at the Under- 
 gFound station, and in the Copperhead lodge of 
 the Knights of the Golden Circle. Are you 
 willing to help your country?" 
 
 "Well, how can I help you when I don t 
 know anything?" say I. "I m getting tired of 
 this." 
 
 129
 
 .WAR 
 
 "So are we. And we are going to close the 
 incident. Call out your whole family." 
 
 "There s no one here but me," I says. 
 
 They seemed mad about that. 
 
 "Mr. Vonner," says the officer, with his fin 
 ger on me like a loaded gun, "there have been 
 traitorous doings in this vicinity for a long 
 time ! Information goes south from here regu 
 larly of all our movements ! Such bulky things 
 as horses, provisions and recruits slip through 
 the lines from here! Somewhere near the 
 Knights of the Golden Circle meet! Now, 
 then, do you mean to persist in saying that you 
 live in this hotbed of treason and know noth 
 ing of any of these things?" 
 
 "Not a thing," laughs I. "You re fooled, 
 Lieutenant. It ain t so." 
 
 "Well, let me tell you, sir, that the United 
 States government is not so easily fooled. And 
 its eyes are right on this place, just now and 
 on you! Take care. You may be as dull as 
 you seem. You may not. Though all about 
 130
 
 BETSY S PIES AGAIN 
 
 here seem to agree that you are an honest 
 Union man." 
 
 "Yes, I am," I says, "straight through from 
 here to here " 
 
 I touched my bosom and my back. 
 
 " and if anybody plays rebel monkey shines 
 around here you ll know it as soon as I do." 
 
 "I like to hear that," says the officer. 
 
 He consults with his men, and then he turns 
 to me and says suddenly. 
 
 "Mr. Vonner, the Underground station is 
 said to be not three miles to the south of this 
 spot!" 
 
 "No!" says I, soprized like thunder. 
 
 "It is at Crider s tavern, or in that vicinity," 
 said the officer. 
 
 "Well, by the Lord," says I, hot against 
 Crider, "I owe him a few now. If he cuts up 
 any tricks hereafter he ll get a load of buck 
 shot from the old flint-lock !" 
 
 "This will be better," says the officer, tak 
 ing a carbine from one of his men and handing
 
 WAR 
 
 it to me. VGive him your ammunition, Gross," 
 he says to the man, and he emptied a double 
 handful of brass cartridges into my hands. 
 
 "Now," said the officer, "I believe in you, 
 though you and your sons are under suspicion. 
 Prove your loyalty to the Union by keeping up 
 a patrol of this vicinity. There s a spy near 
 you. Mallory. He must be caught. Yon can 
 catch him. He won t be on guard for you. If 
 you meet any strangers or even not strangers 
 who can not give an account of themselves, 
 take them into custody. I am authorized to 
 deputize you a provost marshal of the United 
 States. If any one resists or will not stand, 
 fire upon him." 
 
 "By the Lord, I will !" says I, hot. 
 
 "You so swear?" says the officer. "Hold up 
 your right hand." 
 
 I did it. 
 
 "But there is a suspicious circumstance af 
 fecting you and your sons. Why aren t some 
 of you in the Unio n army if you are loyal?" 
 
 "Well," I says, kind of humble, "that s so, 
 132
 
 BETSY S PIES AGAIN 
 
 Mr. Officer. Some of us ought to go. We 
 talk about it often. But Dave s young and 
 reckless, and Jon s handsome. I hate to think 
 about em being shot in the legs or cut in the 
 face with sabers. Or with just one leg or arm. 
 I see so many cripples coming home. I wish we 
 could have war without shooting or cutting. 
 When we get through all the nice young men 
 will be on crutches. What then ? Some one has 
 to be licked. And the other side ll need the 
 young men to build up with again. Why, we 
 won t have anything when it s done and will 
 have to begin right on the ground after every 
 thing s shot and burned up. No one but me ain t 
 looking ahead, I expect. Look at us. It was 
 hard enough getting a living out of the old 
 farm before. What do you think it s going to be 
 afterward? And, then, Mr. Officer, though I 
 ain t as pretty as my sons, they wouldn t let 
 me go alone though I m willing if that ll keep 
 them all in one piece. You see I suppose you 
 suspect it, anyhow we ain t no fighters, and 
 we hate to hurt and kill things and to be 
 133
 
 WAR 
 
 apart If one s goes we ll all have to go. And, 
 maybe, we couldn t all get in the same com 
 pany. So, who d take care of my boys if they 
 got sick? And how d they take care of me? I 
 expect, if it gets much worse some ll have 
 to" 
 
 "It must get worse before it can get better," 
 said the officer. "And when that time comes 
 you must take your place in the ranks, or prove 
 your loyalty otherwise. But, for the present 
 you are, probably, more useful here. We ex 
 pect the arrest of Mallory now, no matter who 
 he may be. Be sure to tell no one of your 
 office." 
 
 "Not even Dave and Jon?" 
 
 "No one," says the officer. "Especially 
 Dave and Jon. And by the way, has Betsy any 
 pies on hand?" 
 
 He forgets and laughs and opens his haver 
 sack. 
 
 "Oh, so !" says I. "You were never here be 
 fore! I just wonder who told you about the 
 pies and Betsy ! Ha ha !" 
 134
 
 BETSY S PIES AGAIN 
 
 But I didn t exactly get him. One of his 
 men nudged him and whispers. 
 
 "My dear man," he laughs, "Betsy and her 
 pies are known all through the Union army!" 
 
 "I thought I had you," says I, "but you got 
 me and you shall have the pies for being 
 smarter than me and slinging such a fine com 
 pliment at Betsy." 
 
 Well, he got the pies and dropped some pa 
 pers out of his bag as he opened it for Betsy 
 to put them in. I picks em up and yells after 
 him, but he is out of sight, laughing, and in 
 dust and noise, before I can think. 
 
 I put the papers in my pocket, thinking that 
 they would soon be back again and I d give em 
 to him.
 
 xy 
 
 WHAT WAS THE TAPESTRY OF PENELOPE? 
 
 I HIDES my carbine, and has some heavy 
 thoughts before they all come home. I 
 had gone too far. I was scared of myself. 
 But it was always so when they got me talking 
 Union and rebel. I had sworn to arrest a spy ! 
 And if he resisted, to fire on him ! It made me 
 shiver. I wished I hadn t done it. But, I be 
 lieve that if I hadn t, they d have taken me 
 along. And think of the children coming 
 home and finding me gone ! And after being 
 taken away I d never get a chance to let them 
 know about it. I had heard that when you got 
 taken to Fort Warren or Fortress Monroe, you 
 were buried. Besides, I had promised that I 
 wouldn t tell any one. Now, look at that! I d 
 never had a secret from the boys ! 
 
 Evelyn came first. And she had a big bun- 
 136
 
 THE TAPESTRY OF PENELOPE 
 
 die which she hadn t taken away when she went 
 to town. 
 
 "What is it?" asks I. 
 
 "Daddy," she laughs, kind of excited and 
 hysterical, "if you think back, you ll remember 
 that I hadn t many clothes when I came, and I 
 haven t got many since. Don t you think a 
 girl s clothes especially certain flimsy ones 
 wear out?" 
 
 "Of course," says I, "of course. It s a 
 shame ! I never thought of clothes for you. 
 I m so unused to women." 
 
 "Don t bother, daddy," she says, as affec 
 tionate, "I got some right here when they re 
 once made !" 
 
 She cried about it. I couldn t understand 
 that ! A girl crying about new clothes ! 
 
 "You got to make em all? I ll get Sis 
 Lowry to do it for you. She needs the money, 
 anyhow." 
 
 "No ! I must make them myself !" says Eve 
 lyn. 
 
 Well, I thought it was funny, that the tired 
 137
 
 WAR 
 
 sad look came into her eyes when she said that, 
 instead of the crazy- with- joy look a girl would 
 have about making her own pretty clothes. It 
 came often now ! 
 
 "I suppose no one can see them, " I laughs, 
 "when they re done?" 
 
 "Daddy !" she says. "No you will never see 
 them!" 
 
 And again the sick look came in her eyes. 
 
 "And, I shall be secret with my door 
 locked, while I m working on em. You won t 
 mind, will you, for a little while?" 
 
 "No," I says, "but the boys?" 
 
 "Ah, the boys!" she says, suddenly turning 
 away and choking. "I m tired awful tired. 
 I ll go straight to my room." 
 
 I went with her as far as the stair-steps. 
 There she stopped, a couple of steps up, and 
 says, so pitiful that I felt like comforting her: 
 
 "Daddy, did your passions ever lead you 
 where you oughtn t to go ? Where it s death ?" 
 
 "I don t know what you mean," says I. 
 
 "Suppose that when you were very angiy 
 138
 
 THE TAPESTRY OF PENELOPE 
 
 say at me you unconsciously betrayed me to 
 enemies or fixed it so that some brute would 
 come and beat me, put me in prison, kill me, 
 and then, when you repented and loved me 
 again, and tried to get the brute to stop coming 
 to beat and kill me, you couldn t! You had 
 gone too far told too much brought the dan 
 ger too near !" 
 
 "Again!" says I. "You are talking in para 
 bles. I never read em, because I do not under 
 stand em. The Psalmist might as well have 
 made a translation for fellers like me if he 
 wanted us to know what he was talking about. 
 What s the English of it, Evelyn?" 
 
 " And you had to keep on doing things to 
 please the brute even letting him take you to 
 keep him from taking me !" 
 
 "Me?" says I. "I d shoot the brute and be 
 j 
 
 done with it! I wouldn t stand no such hell! 
 Not for a minute !" 
 
 "But if he were so big and impervious that 
 you couldn t injure him just shoot and shoot 
 and shoot and be laughed at while he, with 
 139
 
 WAR 
 
 one twist of his thumb and finger, could take 
 the head off of me you love 
 
 She sighs and is silent for a while. 
 or off of you or Jon 
 
 Another and worse sigh, and more silence. 
 
 " or Dave whom I love!" 
 
 "Come back," says I, "and fetch the diction 
 ary with you !" 
 
 But she just goes on holding hard to the 
 side of the stair, drooping her nice head, as if it 
 was about all she could bear. 
 
 "Wi wouldn t you keep on trying to please 
 the brute even though you suffered oh, suf 
 fered hell itself died so as to keep him from 
 me ? I mean from you-all ?" 
 
 "I don t understand, dear," says I, as kind 
 as possible for I never saw her so worked up. 
 "But if it s trouble, let your old daddy yes, 
 and Jon and Dave, too, help you !" 
 
 "And suppose," she goes on, "that was just 
 
 the hell of it, as you said that you couldn t 
 
 daren t call on them to help you the, the 
 
 only ones who would! Suppose that merely 
 
 140
 
 THE TAPESTRY OF PENELOPE 
 
 calling on them would ruin them. Suppose 
 that you had to do it all alone and that you 
 were only a girl, after all, like me !" 
 
 "Evelyn," says I again, "I don t understand. 
 You got to speak plain. If you are in trouble 
 or any of your friends you got two brave 
 bo^s to right for you and another old man 
 that ll do his best to hurt any one who hurts 
 you !" 
 
 "Ah, daddy, daddy, daddy, how well I know 
 that ! And how bitter that makes it !" 
 
 "I expect it s about your being a rebel, ain t 
 it?" asks I. 
 
 She nods. 
 
 "Well, how often must I say not to bother 
 about that that we don t care how rebel you 
 are ? You shan t be hurt for it ! We ll see to 
 that!" 
 
 She cries and leans her nice head down on 
 me. 
 
 "Oh, if you only could if you only could, 
 daddy, daddy, darling! Ah, you are the only 
 ones who can t. Daddy, if they kill me will 
 141
 
 WAR 
 
 you see that I am decently interred and not 
 thrown on the dunghill as I deserve to be? I 
 love you-all now more than that other thing 
 I used to love when the devil was awake. 
 Daddy, whatever happens, don t you, for God s 
 sake, desert me! Stay with me and give me 
 another chance !" 
 
 "I wish you d tell me exactly what s up," 
 Says I, "though I expect an old fool like me 
 wouldn t understand a nice young girl s 
 thoughts." 
 
 "Daddy," she asks, "did you ever hear the 
 story of Penelope?" 
 
 "I never was acquainted with her. I suppose 
 she lives in Hartford County, not?" answers I. 
 
 "She lived in Greece 
 
 "The country in the geography," I says, "not 
 the Shnitzlers place?" 
 
 "Yes. She was the wife of a great soldier 
 named Ulysses. And while he was off in the 
 wars many other chiefs came and wanted her, 
 and they all brought their weapons, and all 
 thought him dead. For men didn t woo women 
 142
 
 THE TAPESTRY OF PENELOPE 
 
 in those days; they took them. But, scared 
 though she was, she kept them all at bay, play 
 ing one against the other by promising to 
 choose one of them as soon as a tapestry she 
 was weaving for her husband s shroud was fin 
 ished. But, at night, she ripped out what she 
 haji woven by day, so that it took a long time 
 and then Ulysses, who had not been killed, 
 returned, as she had hoped and prayed he 
 would, and all ended happily for her." 
 
 "Well," I says, "that s a nice story. But 
 what s the answer?" 
 
 "I am Penelope, daddy, dear," she says, 
 "and this is the tapestry." 
 
 She holds up the bundle she d brought home. 
 
 "I ve got a grudging permission to weave 
 my own shroud, because there s none ready 
 made about here, for 
 
 She sighs hard and long. 
 
 "And I am going to make it last long, long, 
 long, hoping and praying that before it is done 
 my Ulysses may return and save me, and make 
 a happy ending." 
 
 143
 
 WAR 
 
 Then she suddenly takes another tack. 
 
 "Daddy, sometimes I hear that the war 
 can t last long any more. What do you think ?" 
 
 "Well," I says, not very cheerful, "it s my 
 opinion, that the war ll last as long as the 
 South has anything to fight with. Gosh! 
 Sometimes I almost wish em success they are 
 such grand fellows. No matter how many we 
 kill there s always others a-coming. No matter 
 how little they got to eat and wear, nor how 
 little ammunition they got, they fight! Yes 
 as long as they can fight this war ll keep on." 
 
 She gives a long moan. 
 
 "What," I says, "you don t mean it?" 
 
 "Oh, daddy," she says, "if that is the only 
 way to stop it, let us pray, as I do, that my 
 people may soon oh, very soon have noth 
 ing left to fight with men or guns or food !" 
 
 Think of that, will you, from such a rebel 
 as Evelyn! 
 
 "Evelyn," says I, "that is serious from a 
 rebel like you. Are you sick? Why is it? 
 Stand fast by your colors!" 
 144
 
 THE TAPESTRY OF PENELOPE 
 
 "I can t," she says. "It s not in here any 
 more!" She pounds her breast. "Something 
 else has taken its place. Yes, I am a brute. 
 But, I suppose, if I could, I d sacrifice the 
 whole South for that one other thing. But," 
 she laughs a little, "maybe I can keep my tap 
 estry from being finished till the war s over. 
 That s my only hope." 
 
 "Oh," I says, "then that s the trouble! 
 You re bothering because we ve changed your 
 mind for you! You can t be rebel any more 
 and you think you oughtn t be Union! Say, 
 Evelyn, that makes me laugh, it does, really. 
 Of course, we re glad you re Union. But, if 
 you ain t sure about it, why, keep on being 
 rebel. We ll all love you just as hard. What s 
 the odds for a woman? And, if you can t do 
 .either the one or the other, which, I expect, is 
 your trouble, just forget it and be happy. It s 
 hereditary: that s why I m Union. And it ll 
 work itself out all right. Do you hear? Just 
 be happy. That s what ll please us most. * 
 
 Goshens ! When I looks up the turn of the 
 145
 
 WAR 
 
 stair, where she had been, she s not there. I 
 don t think she heard a word of that nice stuff 
 of mine ! I didn t like that. 
 
 Jon and Dave came a little later, as happy 
 as a pair of June bugs, Dave, really on Jon s 
 back, with a string of fish as long as your arm. 
 What do you think of that! Dave on Jon s 
 back! I wonder how far Jon d carried him? 
 Why, Dave had caught up and was as big as 
 Jon now! 
 
 Of course, the first thing they asked for was 
 Evelyn, and I told them about her being in 
 town and the new clothes. But not about the 
 soldiers nor Penelope. 
 
 "Now, I expect," whines Dave, "we ll see 
 her about once a week all on account of 
 clothes." 
 
 "Davy," says I, "a woman and clothes means 
 the same thing." 
 
 But Dave, he sings up to her window : 
 
 " Oh, tell me where my Eva s gone ! 
 
 And Evelyn throws open the window and 
 146
 
 THE TAPESTRY OF PENELOPE 
 
 flings a kiss and laughs, happy as blazes. All 
 changed the minute Dave comes ! She has 
 sewing things in her mouth and hands, and, 
 as she waves, something drops out of her 
 hand into the tall grass. We all tries to find it 
 but it is no good, and she laughs, kind of ex 
 cited, and says: 
 
 "Only an empty spool, boys. Don t bother," 
 and we didn t no more.
 
 XVI 
 EVELYN S SPOOL 
 
 I DIDN T want to take the responsibility of 
 watching for that spy, and, maybe, shoot 
 ing him, myself, so I thought I had better work 
 Jon into it with me, somehow, no matter if T 
 had promised not to tell him. They had no 
 business to ask such a thing. 
 
 "Jon," I says, "things are getting so bad 
 around here that we got to arm and look out 
 for the place. When they get to cutting down 
 trees and breaking windows so they can look 
 in it s about time." 
 
 "Yes," nods old Jon, "I ve been thinking 
 about that myself." 
 
 "Then Evelyn turning Union " 
 
 "What !" says he, like an explosion, "what s 
 that?" 
 
 "Evelyn s turned Union." 
 148
 
 EVELYN S SPOOL 
 
 "Who told you?" 
 
 "She." 
 
 "Yes," says Jon, "that makes her doubly 
 precious." 
 
 Well, I didn t mean that. 
 
 "Why?" asks I. "No one cares whether 
 sjie s Union or rebel. No one but us knows 
 what she is. I don t suppose that makes her 
 any more precious, does it, Jonthy ?" 
 
 "Yes, it does, daddy," says Jon. "She s 
 nearer to us all ! What did you mean, daddy ?" 
 
 "Well," I says, "I kind of thought that hav 
 ing a rebel in the house would keep us on good 
 terms with the Confederates, and keeping loyal 
 ourselves would keep us straight with the 
 Unions. There wasn t much sense in it, be 
 cause no one knows of her sentiments. Just 
 a kind of a brauch. But I felt that way." 
 
 "I suppose it is the very worst way to feel," 
 laughs Jon. "You know what always happens 
 to people who carry water on both shoulders! 
 I don t think that that has had the least thing 
 to do with keeping the secessionists from both- 
 149
 
 WAR 
 
 ering us. For, as you say, none of them know 
 her politics." 
 
 "Anyhow," I goes on, "she d better stop her 
 long walks alone and going to town so of 
 ten." 
 
 "Daddy," answers Jon, "who do you think 
 would harm a woman a girl, in fact !" 
 
 "Well," I adds, "I don t want to scare you. 
 But what happened to Annie Shuster " 
 
 "That s so," nods Jon, "that s so, daddy!" 
 
 Annie was on an errand to Crider s and 
 some Union soldiers took her for a suspect 
 they had been watching trying to escape in 
 woman s clothes. I hate to say what they done 
 to her. But they treated her like she was a 
 man. Anyhow, she looked a good deal like a 
 man. That made Jon change his mind. 
 
 "Yes," he says. "There s hardly any possi 
 bility of Evelyn being taken for a man, she s 
 too feminine. But, yes, we d better look out a 
 little more. There s no use in taking chances. 
 We ll watch you and me night and night. 
 I ll fix up the old flint-lock. It will hold a 
 pint of buckshot." 
 
 150
 
 EVELYN S SPOOL 
 
 I was mighty glad for Jon to tumble in like 
 that, thinking it all his own plan. 
 
 "Yes," I says. "I ll go to town and get a 
 carbine." 
 
 I thought, in that way, to account for the 
 one I had. 
 
 Jon kept on planning while we walks toward 
 the kitchen. When we got near, Evelyn poked 
 her head out from the stairway, with a candle 
 in her hand, like she expected to find us all 
 there. But, when she halted and saw that no 
 one was there but Dave, asleep, a cunning kind 
 of look came on her face and she, quick, blew 
 out the candle. In a minute we saw her come 
 out the door on tiptoes and watch about for us. 
 Then she hurried to that place where the spool 
 had dropped and hunted for it in the grass. 
 Some one came along the road. Maybe she 
 thought it was us. She runs on her tiptoes 
 back and through the kitchen, up to her room. 
 
 "Jon," I asks, "what do you make of that?" 
 
 "She needed her spool," says Jon. 
 
 "It was empty," says I.
 
 WAR 
 
 "Well," laughs Jon, "can t you imagine some 
 use for an empty spool ?" 
 
 "Not since you made dog-wagons with 
 them," says I, "and, anyhow, there are dozens 
 of them right where she came from." 
 
 "But not one of them the right size, I sup 
 pose, just as I used to find out when I made 
 the aforesaid dog-wagons of at least three 
 different sizes of spools, sometimes four."
 
 S 
 
 XVII 
 
 C. S. A. 
 
 O Jonathan fixed the old flint that she d 
 go off the first time instead of the tenth, 
 and loaded her with about a pint of buckshot, 
 and one night Jon he watched, the next I did. 
 And the funny thing about it was that no one 
 else in the house knew a thing about it. Except 
 they pestered me about being so sleepy. 
 
 Once in a while I came near ending the life 
 of one of the neighbors, but they always took 
 me for what I took them, suspicious, and made 
 sufficient explanations. We use to pull our 
 fiats down so s no one would know us, and talk 
 in a changed voice. Even wore handkerchiefs 
 over the lower part of our faces. 
 
 We would go to bed in the usual way, then 
 the one who was to stand watch would sneak 
 up. That was the hard part of it getting up 
 153
 
 WAR 
 
 after going to bed and fooling the sleep with 
 the notion that it was all fixed till morning. 
 Mostly, Jon had to wake me, or there would 
 have been no watch. And often I have to ad 
 mit Jon was good to me and watched two 
 nights in succession when he came and heard 
 me snoring so in earnest. I admit I have a big 
 snore. 
 
 I had never been about much at night. And 
 snooping now in the light of the moon made 
 honest things look queer, and made me ac 
 quainted with many queer things which had 
 looked honest. 
 
 The way the lights used to perform in Ben 
 Crider s garret window was a caution. Some 
 times it was a regular dance. And there were 
 whistles and horns blowing now and then, and 
 all sorts of creepy shadows and things, and 
 rapid riders. 
 
 The fact of the matter is, though I don t 
 
 like to admit it, I was afraid to be out alone at 
 
 night. It got me so nervous that I was ready 
 
 to fire at the bunnies I wakened out of their 
 
 154
 
 C. S. A. 
 
 naps. And if I trod on a twig and it broke, 
 I flew around with my carbine cocked, ready 
 to murder the twig. I began to wish the watch 
 ing was done with. But these very things 
 showed us the necessity for it. 
 
 But the worst of it was that I discovered 
 *and Jon, too, for that matter that we 
 weren t the only ones out at night with guns, 
 watching. There was a regular ring about the 
 place we couldn t break through. Every now 
 and then some one would challenge us and turn 
 us back. I don t know whether or not they 
 knew us, but we never knew them, and they 
 didn t seem like neighbors. Jon says they 
 know us and are keeping us under watch. He 
 says that one night some one pulled his hat up 
 to see who he was, and seemed disappointed. 
 
 "Of course, they all know you, daddy," he 
 laughs. 
 
 "Why so?" asks I. 
 
 "Because of your language," laughs he 
 again. 
 
 "But I never talk." 
 
 155
 
 AVAR 
 
 "Yes," he says, "you talk to yourself." 
 
 "Only when there s nobody about," says I. 
 
 "Only when you think there s nobody 
 about," laughs Jon. "But, if you want to 
 make sure of that, you got to search all the 
 bushes and things which might hide a man lay 
 ing down, or up in a tree, within twenty yards 
 of you." 
 
 "Now, you don t tell me it s as bad as that, 
 Jonthy?" I says. 
 
 Then Jon took the back track thinking he d 
 scared me. 
 
 "No, no ! All we got to do is to be straight 
 Union as we are all of us !" 
 
 "Jonthy," says I, though, "it s a creepy busi 
 ness watching and being watched like this. 
 Is there anything to stop it?" 
 
 Jon hesitates a little, then he says, as if he 
 didn t like to : 
 
 "Yes, daddy enlisting." 
 
 "Then, according to that, you don t think it s 
 our neighbors we meet doing just as we are 
 doing?" 
 
 156
 
 C. S. A. 
 
 Jonathan hesitates a minute, then he says : 
 
 "Yes, yes, daddy, of course. That s all it 
 is. Forget it and be careful." 
 
 Evelyn cried a good deal now, and lost her 
 color. But how she did love Dave! When 
 they met she would just fly at him ! And she d 
 tell him that it would soon be over now soon 
 be over. Only, instead of feeling almost like 
 a bride, she d always burst into tears when 
 she said that. At last Jon figured it all out on 
 a grand scale. Dave and Evelyn were both 
 fooling us. What was going on was prepara 
 tions for a wedding. Evelyn was making her 
 own trousseau. 
 
 "Then, some day, all of a sudden, we ll be 
 up against a wedding and the joke will be ex 
 pected to be on you and me. Be ready to laugh." 
 
 "Jon," says I, touching his head, "some 
 one s getting queer. Is it you ?" 
 
 "Well, daddy," laughs he, happier than any 
 of them about that wedding, "do you expect 
 a girl to work day after day on her trousseau 
 without tears?" 
 
 157
 
 _S WAR 
 
 "Of joy, I expect," says I, for a joke. 
 
 "For joy," nods Jon, serious. "Why, daddy, 
 a young girl s wedding is the most wonderful 
 thing in her whole life!" 
 
 "Mine wasn t. But I suppose you re think 
 ing about the time you were a young girl. And 
 how many times you were married !" says I, 
 for another joke on Jon. 
 
 But he laughs and understands, this time, 
 and hugs me so that I thought my ribs were 
 cracked. 
 
 "You see, daddy," Jon goes on, "I have 
 known this for a long time, and if you ll come 
 with me I ll show you and prove my faith in 
 my own prophecy." 
 
 He drags me behind the barn, where he has 
 a nice little hotbed with some funny flowers 
 in it. 
 
 "Well, that s nice and unexpected," says I, 
 "but go on and prove it. These are flowers; 
 that s a wedding. What s the answer? Please 
 tell me." 
 
 "There s the answer," laughs old Jon. 
 158
 
 C. S. A. 
 
 "Those orchids. They re some of the frailest 
 and rarest flowers in the world and I am rais 
 ing them for Evelyn s wedding! Orchids. 
 Nothing less would be appropriate. You re not 
 to tell. If they think they are going to surprise 
 us, this will tell them that they haven t suc 
 ceeded." 
 
 We stood there a minute, and the smile 
 faded from old Jonthy s face. Maybe he was 
 thinking of the time before Dave came home. 
 
 "Jonthy," says I, "it would be a sin not to 
 believe it. I ll try. Also I ll remember the 
 name : orchids." 
 
 And I takes him away from there. 
 
 On my watch one night I saw Evelyn about 
 midnight open the window for air. I could 
 see her holding up some sort of garment with 
 gold braid on it. I snooped as near as I could 
 to try and see what it was and then have fun 
 with her about it. No use. But, as I went on 
 my toes, I struck something with my foot and 
 picked it up. It was a brass button. I put it 
 into my pocket. 
 
 159
 
 WAR 
 
 I had forgotten about it the next day, and 
 pulls it out accidental when Jon and me is 
 together. 
 
 "Why, daddy, where did you get that?" 
 yells Jon, taking it from me. "No wonder 
 we re under suspicion!" 
 
 It was a brass button with C. S. A. stamped 
 on it. 
 
 "Well," says I, "there have been plenty of 
 Confederate soldiers at about the place where 
 I found it, more than once." 
 
 "Or," says Jon, "some Union soldier may 
 have sewed it on his coat in place of one with 
 U. S. A. on it. Or, one of them might even 
 have been wearing a Confederate coat. They 
 do such things." 
 
 I was looking at it then. 
 
 "It s bran new, Jonthy," says I. 
 
 "No," says Jonathan, "not new." 
 
 "That s rust from the wet grass." 
 
 "Well," laughs Jonathan, "Old Suspicious, 
 what s the answer?" 
 
 "You don t think Evelyn might have 
 1 60
 
 C. S. A. 
 
 dropped it thrown it away? It was about the 
 time she turned Union. Or, maybe That s 
 not the spool ?" 
 
 "No," laughs Jon. 
 
 But, then, as usual, it came to him. 
 
 "Why, yes, she might have dropped it, poor 
 girl ! It may be a souvenir possibly, only 
 think, daddy, cut from her father s coat , and 
 sent to her. She might have thrown it away 
 so as not to hurt our feelings and be loyal to 
 us ! then repented. Think what a sacrifice ! 
 For us and the Union ! Of course, she d be shy 
 of letting us know about repenting the sacrifice, 
 but that doesn t lessen its greatness. And that 
 would explain the other night. Shall we give 
 it to her?" 
 
 "Sure !" says I, handing it out to him. 
 
 Then, again, after a while, it came right. 
 
 "No. Then she d know we knew her dear 
 little secret. To-night I ll put it back where it 
 was but so plain in sight she can t miss it. 
 Maybe she s still hunting for ic. To-night s 
 my watch." 
 
 161
 
 WAR 
 
 And nice old Jon told me the next day that 
 she had come down in her nightie and looked 
 for it, and had found it. 
 
 "Poor little girl! She was so happy! I m 
 glad she didn t know we knew. She cried. 
 Her very heart seemed broken." 
 
 "But why should her heart seem broke? I 
 asks. 
 
 Well Jon didn t know.
 
 XVIII 
 
 WHAT IS GREATER THAN PATRIOTISM? 
 
 "TON and me were sitting on the front porch 
 *J there, in our shirt-sleeves, one night, and 
 Dave and Evelyn were out under the plum 
 trees yonder, when the brass cornet band came 
 along playing, "We Are Coming, Father Abra 
 ham, Three Hundred Thousand Strong." And 
 there was a procession, with a banner telling 
 that there was to be a meeting in town that 
 night to raise a company of Union soldiers. 
 
 After the band had passed we sat still a long 
 time. Jon was looking straight ahead and we 
 - could hear the voices of Dave and Evelyn. 
 Mostly it was only the murmuring of two 
 people in love. But now and then Dave s 
 laugh would break out, and then Evelyn s 
 different, nicer would join. At last we could 
 hear Dave singing that : 
 163
 
 WAR 
 
 "Du hast das Herze mein, 
 So ganz genommen em 
 
 After a while Evelyn joined, like she was 
 saying the same thing. Jon turned and looked 
 that way, just once. It was the same song he 
 had sung to her but different. Dave made it 
 gay. And Evelyn was joining in. I saw his 
 face. He was trying to smile at their happi 
 ness, but his own suffering came through and 
 there it was : joy and sorrow in one smile. And 
 on such a face as Jon s which told everything ! 
 
 Said I, to take him away from it : 
 
 "Now the coal-oil torches those boys car 
 ried for the band has spoiled the air. Suppose 
 we go in, Jonthy?" 
 
 But Jon didn t move. I think he didn t hear 
 me. Finally he said : 
 
 "They were right!" 
 
 "Who," says I, "who was right?" 
 
 "The Union soldiers. Everybody but us. 
 One of us ought to go. One of us must. Then 
 the others won t have to. It s hard, but neces 
 sary. There s not a family in Maryland with 
 164
 
 GREATER THAN PATRIOTISM 
 
 three men left in it. No wonder they suspect 
 us. I don t see how we ve escaped the draft." 
 "Not on your life!" says I, very savage. "I 
 want my boys in one piece and all together in 
 the same place in case of fire in the chimley. 
 You know I couldn t put it out myself, be- 
 ause it s hard enough, sometimes, for all of 
 us. And just think of Betsy as a fireman !" 
 
 "And," says Jon, never noticing how funny 
 that was, "the right one has got to go." 
 
 "Who do you think is the right one?" asks I. 
 "I am," nods Jon. 
 
 Well, when Jon decided to do a thing, there 
 was no use trying to stop him. The best was 
 to go along and persuade him. 
 He got up and put on his coat. 
 "Well," I says, to humor him, "suppose we 
 go and see what fools they make of them 
 selves, enlisting to get shot. That s one way to 
 not get a Union company up. Why don t they 
 come around with a secret subscription paper! 
 Nobody s going to enlist in a Union company 
 right out in public." 
 
 165
 
 "Come, then," says Jon, hurrying me, as if 
 he had decided it and a load was off his mind. 
 
 "All right," says I. "If we can t enlist our 
 selves, we can whoop it up so s maybe the 
 other fellows ll go. But you can t raise no 
 whole Union company round here for a million 
 dollars." 
 
 "Yes, that s necessary, too," says Jon. "Our 
 presence there will do good. Come!" 
 
 "But I ll be on hand to discourage you yes, 
 and lam you, if it goes too far." 
 
 "Daddy," smiles Jon, "it will go as far as 
 the front! You don t know the news about 
 here. There s been a change." 
 
 "Shall we take the guns?" says I. 
 
 "No," says Jon, "we ll only make trouble 
 with em and be tempted to shoot. The time is 
 not yet to shoot." 
 
 But we hadn t gone far before a man with 
 a gun steps out in the road and says : 
 
 "Halt, Lucas Mallory!" 
 
 "There," says I to Jon, "it s war already; 
 that s what comes of not taking our guns along. 
 I could get him easy while he s bothering you." 
 1 66
 
 GREATER THAN PATRIOTISM 
 
 Jon kind of laughs and points to another 
 man with a gun who was coming to join the 
 first one. 
 
 "Neither of us knows Lucas Mallory," says 
 Jon, polite as a dancing master, instead of 
 fighty, like me, "nor is either of us he. I am 
 *Mr. Jonathan Vonner. This is my father, 
 Stephen Vonner. Now, may we pass ?" 
 
 "Oh!" they says, disappointed, looking close. 
 "Wrong one." 
 
 "Where are you going?" asks the first one. 
 "And where s your other reputed son?" 
 
 "You re further than usual from home to 
 night," says the second one, "in a southerly 
 direction." 
 
 "None of your business," says I, still fighty. 
 "I ve lived here since seventeen-ten and my 
 ancestors, I m not that old myself alone and 
 I don t think I ll ask anybody when I want to 
 go away from my house a little, north, east, 
 south or west, or prove that my sons are my 
 sons. None of your business." 
 
 "Yes, daddy," says Jon, in that polite way, 
 "it is some of their business. These men are 
 167
 
 iWAR 
 
 here for our protection. If you will look close 
 ly you will see that they are in the uniform of 
 the United States." 
 
 Well, that was so. And they seemed a little 
 less fighty at Jon s great politeness. So I let 
 him do the talking. 
 
 "We are going to town to enlist in the Union 
 army," Jon goes on, with the oil all ready 
 for the water, "and my brother Dave is at 
 home. That accounts for all of us." 
 
 Well, that flabbergasts em still more. 
 
 "I should say that one of us is going to en 
 list," Goliath amends. 
 
 "Which one?" asks the first soldier. 
 
 "I," answers Jon. "There s a meeting in 
 Excelsior to-night to organize a Union com 
 pany." 
 
 Well, Jon s answers got em so that they 
 didn t know what to do. They whispered 
 together a little, then one of em says : 
 
 "On your word of honor, is that your er 
 rand?" 
 
 168
 
 GREATER THAN PATRIOTISM 
 
 "On my word or honor," says Jon, holding 
 up his right hand. 
 
 "We ll know if you don t enlist," says the 
 other soldier. 
 
 "Certainly," says Jon. 
 
 "However," asks the second one, "your sup 
 posed brother Dave doesn t intend to enlist?" 
 
 "No," says Jon. 
 
 "Why?" asks the soldier. 
 
 Jon smiles and says: 
 
 "He s got better and more important busi 
 ness on hand." 
 
 "Oh !" says one. "He s at home now?" 
 
 "Pass," says the other. "Enough." 
 
 I heard one say to the other as we went on : 
 
 "We ought to know which of the three it is 
 now!" 
 
 "Yes," says the other one. 
 
 "It must be a secret from these two. They re 
 all right" 
 
 "Now, what do you think that means, 
 Jonthy?" says I. 
 
 169
 
 WAR 
 
 "That the sooner one of us enlists the bet 
 ter. That will take all this watching and 
 threatening and suspicion away. Some of our 
 kind secessionist neighbors are giving us en 
 tirely too much attention. And I suppose many 
 things we do innocently add confirmation. 
 Even the night-watching, for purely honest 
 reasons, has probably been the worst thing we 
 could have done. The Union pickets take it for 
 something entirely different. And something 
 disloyal, no doubt such as protecting the work 
 of the Knights and sympathizers. 
 
 As we passed old Jake Kimmelwasser s 
 house, he was sitting on the porch all dressed 
 up in the uniform he had worn in Mexico. 
 He had got a wound in the head at Chapul- 
 tepec and was crazy. Every time they raised 
 a new company, Union or Confederate, he en 
 listed and then went home to bed and forgot 
 it. Now he came running out, and, like we; 
 Jon and me was a whole regiment, he drilled 
 us clear into the town making us march and 
 countermarch, wheel and oblique till he fell 
 170
 
 GREATER THAN PATRIOTISM 
 
 backward in some mud and had to stop and 
 clean his uniform of which he was mighty 
 proud. 
 
 To me it was foolish. I got mad. But to 
 Jon it was a great lesson. He obeyed every 
 order. 
 * Says he : 
 
 "There is a crazy man. And what is it sur 
 vives in him? Not love, not the recollection 
 of his wife, his children; only the vast patriot 
 ism of that day is left. We have laughed be 
 cause he enlists always. But he might laugh, 
 if he knew, because we never enlist." 
 
 "Off in the clouds, Jonthy," says I. "I m on 
 the earth. Come back. Be merciful to me, a 
 sinner." 
 
 "Ah, daddy," laughs Jon, "I am learning 
 something! This enlisting brings it out." 
 
 "What? Quick before it gets away!" 
 
 "That there is something greater even than 
 love." 
 
 "Well, well! Who d have thought it? And 
 from sentimental Jon! But I m glad to hear 
 171
 
 WAR 
 
 it. Now, I can sleep of nights once more. 
 What is it?" 
 
 "Patriotism !" say Jon. 
 
 "Jonthy, it smells like whisky," says I, 
 "when you get among it. You ll see when we 
 reach town." 
 
 But after I thought of it, I was glad that 
 Jon had found something to take the place of 
 love even if he only imagined it.
 
 XIX 
 
 WHAT JONATHAN FOUND TO TAKE HER PLACE 
 
 9> 
 
 THE whole little town was in the Square, 
 and were as crazy as old Jake. But it 
 wasn t, like his, that they all wanted to fight 
 the rebels. It was just the other way. For 
 the boys had been coming home in rough pine 
 boxes mighty fast of late. They wanted to 
 fight but not the rebels. Something safer. 
 There was a good deal of bad whisky about just 
 as I told Jon and more hard talk. A few was 
 for "On to Richmond" for the others. Some 
 was for shooting Burnside. Others was just 
 crazy to tell what they would do if they was 
 Lincoln or Davis. But I didn t hear a soul who 
 was crazy to enlist. A couple of houses were 
 illuminated to show that they were Union. 
 And it was strange that these were houses 
 where the Union flag in the window was tied 
 
 173
 
 WAR 
 
 with crepe. Jon said it was mighty brave to do 
 it. Anyhow, the windows was broke in these 
 houses. But most of the dwellings were dark. 
 There were two little newspapers printed in the 
 town, one Union, and one Democrat The 
 Union office had about a hundred tallow 
 candles burning in the windows. "J ust for 
 spite" as a card in the window said. And 
 there was a large placard in front with this 
 on it: 
 
 WE ARE COMING FATHER 
 
 ABRAHAM ! 
 NOT QUITE 300,000 MORE 
 
 BUT 100 MORE 
 
 AND RIGHT OUT OF DARKEST 
 EGYPT! 
 
 At "Egypt" there was a hand pointing to 
 the Democrat office. 
 
 That was dark, and had some of its windows 
 broken, too, while the mischievous boys in the 
 procession poked their torches through the 
 broken panes and tried to set the place afire. 
 Other rowdy boys were trying to stop them, 
 174
 
 WHAT JONATHAN FOUND 
 
 till the men took part ; and at last a crowd with 
 guns and scythes and pitchforks marched down 
 the street and took charge as vigilantes, and 
 said the meeting should go on. And in peace. 
 It was a case of fair play. And so it did. 
 
 You could see that the sentiments was 
 f 
 changing. It wouldn t have been possible to 
 
 hold that meeting a little while before. It 
 wasn t easy now. Any one, no matter who, 
 that hung out a Union flag would have been 
 mobbed. And there was no vigilantes then to 
 see fair play. There was only one kind of fair 
 play a little while ago. 
 
 In the middle of the Square, Kratz, the edi 
 tor of the Union paper, got on a box and made 
 a speech : 
 
 "Enough men," says he, "has gone out of 
 this neighborhood to make a regiment. But the 
 most of them have gone the wrong way. And 
 there are many more who would go that way 
 if they weren t afraid of powder and lead. 
 That s all that keeps them here eating us up 
 who have hardly enough for ourselves. I d 
 175
 
 WAR 
 
 rather see em go. Aren t we drinking parched 
 rye for coffee and only a little of that? Don t 
 we pay a dollar a pound for musty flour? And 
 glad to get it when we have the dollar. And 
 it takes two of them now to make one. No 
 one is working, all are righting. But the se 
 cessionists are gone, to jail or elsewhere 
 thanks to Ben Butler and this is a Union and 
 not a rebel place now." 
 
 He yells that so hard that the houses rattled. 
 And, Lord, what yells answered him ! And the 
 names they called him ! But the old boys with 
 the pitchforks turned their backs to the editor, 
 and their forks and scythes to the crowd, and, 
 maybe, it was correct that they were cowards 
 as Kratz called em them outside the 
 scythes. For they said they would tear his 
 insides out but no one came to do it. The edi 
 tor is game and yells it at em again : 
 
 "This is a Union town and not a rebel town, 
 
 now, I say. And I have just proved it. Out 
 
 there, the further away the better for them, 
 
 they have threatened to kill me. .Well, does 
 
 176
 
 WHAT JONATHAN FOUND 
 
 any one come to do it? There s rebellion for 
 you ! Wind ! 
 
 "I thought the government had got all the 
 traitors. There s a few left. But don t you 
 worry out there ! I see you. Your names will 
 be in my paper to-morrow. And that ll go 
 straight to Washington. By God, I m going to 
 see that what I just said is true. That this is a 
 Union town now. Don t worry out there ! I 
 expect the government has missed a few of 
 you. But I know who you are, and if Uncle 
 Sam don t get every sympathizer and Knight, 
 and secessionist and Copperhead and spy in 
 this county, you can blame it on me ! Yes, and 
 take it out of me if you dare! 
 
 "Why, you are the scum of the rebellion. 
 I respect those secessionists among us, who, 
 thinking they were right, went into the South 
 ern armies to prove it. I say so in my paper. 
 I have nothing against the rebel who fights and 
 takes his chances with powder and lead. He s 
 a man! But such left-overs as you stragglers 
 hangers-on whose only weapon is their 
 177
 
 WAR 
 
 mouth spying and lying taking no risk your 
 selves eating our substance and then bringing 
 the provost guard down on us by the Lord, 
 if I were Lincoln, I d hang every one of you 
 on sight as he is entitled to do with spies. 
 And, if I can bring it about, that s what s going 
 to happen to you and mighty soon ! My ad 
 vice to you is to go into the rebel army to save 
 your lives! Though it s full of gentlemen 
 the rebel army and God knows what they d 
 do with such as you! You d be out of your 
 class." 
 
 Well, I don t know if Kratz was fooling or 
 not. But he certainly scared em some, like I 
 never knowed em to be scared before. They 
 didn t make so much noise after that nor show 
 themselves so much; and some of em sneaked 
 away. He had a much better chance to make 
 his speech. 
 
 "What I was going to say, fellow citizens, 
 
 was that though this is a Union and not a rebel 
 
 place, and though we have about a hundred 
 
 men in the Union army, they have gone to the 
 
 178
 
 WHAT JONATHAN FOUND 
 
 front and enlisted as individuals because we 
 have been afraid to come out with our colors 
 and organize a full company. Fellow citizens, 
 we have not had the honor of sending to the 
 front a company like other towns, carrying our 
 own flag, wearing the uniforms we have put on 
 thm, carrying the muskets we have placed in 
 their hands, bearing into the fight our name! 
 And this has hurt me, it hurts you, it hurts our 
 dear little town. Don t you suppose that that 
 man down at Washington, bearing our sor 
 rows, has looked at the map, has seen our 
 name, has wondered whether we have sent him 
 a company, has been told that we have not? 
 And what other town on the map tells him such 
 a tale? Boys, boys, do you want this war 
 fought out without having helped? If you 
 can stand it I can t. I m going to let you get 
 your news from there, such as it is " 
 
 He turned and pointed to the Democrat 
 office. 
 
 " and I am going to fight. But, for the 
 honor and glory of our town, I want to go with 
 179
 
 WAR 
 
 a hundred of my neighbors. I want to march 
 straight to the White House door, draw up be 
 fore it and say to the President : Father Abra 
 ham, we have redeemed ourselves ! Here, when 
 the cause is at its lowest, when the outlook is 
 darkest, when even patriots are saying that 
 your war is a failure, we come to tell you that it 
 is not. We come to cheer you, to hold up your 
 tired hands and say, On, yes, by the Lord God ! 
 on to Richmond ! One more grand effort and 
 it is done! There are still a million soldiers, 
 like us, waiting for precisely this moment, 
 which comes in every struggle the moment 
 when the contest wavers ! Call them ; they will 
 come as we have come without calling. We 
 have sent you our money, we have sent you our 
 grain and pork and lead and powder and cloth ; 
 but now we send you one hundred men. And 
 from Maryland ! 
 
 Well, there was a thrill abroad, at last. The 
 calling of names and the fighting had stopped 
 and it was serious. 
 
 The editor pulled a sheet of paper out of 
 1 80
 
 WHAT JONATHAN FOUND 
 
 his pocket and wrote his name with a splendid 
 dash. 
 
 "There s my name about the middle of the 
 sheet as evidence of my sincerity. I leave my 
 business, my wife, my babies, in poverty. I 
 have got to go. There is something inside that 
 compels me. Now, who ll be the second man 
 of one hundred to put his name down with 
 mine?" 
 
 No one answered. 
 
 "Who wants to stand beside me and see the 
 glory on that worn old face in the White 
 House, when we stand at parade before him? 
 Who wants to feel the grasp of that big honest 
 hand? I wouldn t miss it for a mint. I 
 want to hear him call us his children. I want 
 to call him by that simple, homely, but glorious 
 name, Father Abraham. I want my babies 
 to know it all. And then, by the God above us, 
 I want to go out and fight for him die for 
 him if it must be. Oh, yes! I know. I 
 see, as well as you, the lead-lined boxes at the 
 station. I know ! But you know how we bury 
 181
 
 WAR 
 
 them. To the Dead March. With flags and 
 flowers and troops of children, sobbing, sob 
 bing. You know that not one who had died 
 here in his bed would be so remembered. But 
 you know, too, that all those who come back 
 that way are our heroes immortal ; yes, even 
 when they come in gray! And you know that 
 there is nothing on earth that will ever make 
 you forget them. Tell me, each one of you, if 
 you had to choose a form of death, wouldn t 
 you choose that? Well, some day you must 
 choose death. Come with me and choose one 
 that is sweet and glorious beyond words !" 
 
 Still no one said a word. 
 
 "Of course it goes hard in a place where the 
 Union element has been afraid, so far, to show 
 its face. I appreciate that it is going to take 
 courage for any man to walk up here and be 
 spotted by the spies and informers, with the 
 chance of some Knight assassinating him by 
 command of the order. But, I tell you, the 
 times have changed. We have settled down. 
 We have thought. We have had war enough to 
 182
 
 WHAT JONATHAN FOUND 
 
 know what it is. We didn t at first. It was a 
 grand spree ! A holiday parade ! It didn t mat 
 ter so much when some one else was doing the 
 fighting, and we were comfortable at home. 
 But the war is at our doors now, and bare liv 
 ing has grown so hard that something must 
 happen and soon. And, now, right now, 
 boys, is the time to make it happen before 
 the country is destroyed. And you can do it 
 you! Come! Don t you want to ?" 
 
 Again Kratz waits, but not a word. He 
 looks all about to catch an eye. But all look 
 away. 
 
 "The man who puts his name down next," 
 says the editor, "will be an officer. He may 
 have the captaincy. I don t want it. My God ! 
 Don t that move some one ? Don t you all want 
 to be captain or lieutenant?" 
 
 No one seemed to want to be an officer 
 though soldier companies was about half offi 
 cers until they got to the front. 
 
 "Good God! Is it possible!" says Kratz, 
 wiping the tears out of his eyes. "I have
 
 WAR 
 
 lived among you all my life. I was born here. 
 And you are going to send me out alone. You 
 are going to let me say to Father Abraham 
 Father, I come alone. They were tried and 
 found wanting! There were more than two 
 thousand strong men listening to me as I told 
 them how badly you needed only one hundred 
 of them in this the darkest hour of your war. 
 Yet, out of that host, not one was burning to 
 write his name upon his country s roll of 
 glory! " 
 
 All stood mute. 
 
 " Not one was ready to die that his country 
 might live undivided. All were willing that 
 those who have already died in this great cause, 
 shall have died in vain. All were willing that 
 the glorious fruits of victory, just within our 
 grasp, for a final great effort, shall be handed 
 over to the enemy. Come ! I ask you for the 
 last time, is there not one but one ! who will 
 put his name here with mine?" 
 
 It was quieter than ever while he waited, 
 and he drooped his head and was turning away, 
 184
 
 WHAT JONATHAN FOUND 
 
 when Jon steps up quiet as a May morning, 
 and says : 
 
 "I will." 
 
 And do you think that I could say a word ? 
 No. I was so worked up with the thoughts that 
 editor had made me think, that if Jon hadn t 
 spoken I would. Well, it was good to see that 
 poor devil of an editor rise from despair to 
 glory. He faced Jon about so the crowd could 
 see him. He could hardly talk. He was crying 
 like a baby. 
 
 "After all, friends," he choked out, "I m 
 glad you didn t hurry. Look at your second 
 Union soldier your first, in fact! Did you 
 ever see a finer leader ? Captain Vonner, I sa 
 lute you ! God bless you ! 
 
 "And, oh, what an answer to calumny! 
 -Friends, he comes from the veriest hotbed of 
 treason in Maryland. Up there, in the hills, 
 a cordon of guards surrounds him; the pro 
 vost guard is on the watch night and day. 
 He, himself, has been named to me as a suspect. 
 His family have been. Thank God, I knew it 
 185
 
 WAR 
 
 for a lie. Now he stands here, by my side, to 
 prove his Unionism with his life!" 
 
 Then he turns to Jon : 
 
 "If you and I must go alone, down there, to 
 that sad man at Washington, representing our 
 town, I am not ashamed. My great end is 
 achieved. Give me your hand both of them. 
 And, I swear to you, that if no one else volun 
 teers to-night, you and I will go alone ! But I 
 don t think we shall. I see, crowding up here, 
 other young men like you the hope and glory 
 of our land. Come, come, come! Now they 
 halt ! They are at the Rubicon ! A word will 
 carry them over! Say a word to them Cap 
 tain Vonner just a word!" 
 
 Well, by that time the red-headed son of a 
 gun had got me and all the rest crazy! Yes, 
 there was a bunch of fine young men all crowd 
 ed together, and just waiting, right out in 
 front, for another encouraging word ! 
 
 "Captain Vonner, say a word !" yells Kratz, 
 the craziest of all. 
 
 1 86
 
 WHAT JONATHAN FOUND 
 
 "Not captain," says Jon, determined. 
 "That s why I didn t answer sooner." 
 
 "Captain Vonner," repeats the editor, "say 
 a word just a word ! There are many of your 
 young friends here. God help us, I should go 
 to Washington mad with joy, in a company of 
 swch splendid young spirits. Could we do that, 
 we should, indeed, have more than redeemed 
 ourselves ! Just a word, Captain Vonner !" 
 
 I know that the last thing on earth he could 
 ask of Jon was a speech. He d never made 
 one in his life. He couldn t. But that just 
 shows how little a father sometimes knows 
 about his sons! Jon stepped upon the box, 
 calm as calm and says: 
 
 "Friends, most of what you have heard is 
 true. I, too, think now of that dark sad man 
 ,at Washington, bearing the burdens of us all. 
 I am going to help him. He is right. If any 
 of you who know me can be influenced by me, 
 I say, come with me !" 
 
 Such a little thing! But so powerful! I 
 187
 
 WAR 
 
 didn t know my dear old Jonathan standing up 
 there, tall, strong, white, half smiling, as if, 
 at last, he had found a way through darkness. 
 The multitude moved upon itself. I saw three 
 boys I knew coming through the crowd. No 
 fuss, just in earnest just like Jonathan. But 
 I was deathly afraid they d get there before I 
 could. So I yells out : 
 
 "Me next!" 
 
 The crowd parted and the editor grabbed me 
 by the hands and dragged me to the box. He 
 was crying more than ever. 
 
 "Oh, men of the Union !" he sobs out. "This 
 is glorious! Another of the suspected family 
 standing before you, proving his loyalty with 
 his life! Oh, it swells my heart almost to 
 bursting! I have heard him called a Knight 
 sympathizer Copperhead. I have heard his 
 house called the headquarters for the South 
 whence information and material go to the 
 Confederates. Why, friends, maybe, if we 
 only knew it, all this while, all about us, men 
 like these have been under suspicion, yet only 
 1 88
 
 WHAT JONATHAN FOUND 
 
 waiting, yearning, to fight for the dear old flag ! 
 Lieutenant Vonner, with an overflowing heart, 
 apologizing for my neighbors doubts, I salute 
 you!" 
 
 "Not lieutenant," I says. "I ain t fit. If I 
 can t fight in the ranks I won t go 
 f, But no one heard me. By that time they 
 were crowding in to sign, and the band struck 
 up The Star Spangled Banner and played till 
 the shingles came off the houses, they say. 
 
 Jon sneaked up to me and says: 
 
 "Daddy, I m surprised at you. Who ll take 
 care of Evelyn and Dave? You shouldn t have 
 done it. Please withdraw. There is time. One 
 of us is enough under our circumstances." 
 
 "Jonthy," says I, "I don t know what with 
 draw means " just in fun; I did know, of 
 course "and it was your fault. I wouldn t 
 have done it for his speech. But yours " 
 
 "I have a special purpose in going, daddy." 
 
 "No?" says I. "Patriotism?" 
 
 Well, anyhow, about that time, the editor 
 came up and put his arms about us both. 
 189
 
 WAR 
 
 "I hear something about withdrawing. You 
 can do that, Mr. Vonner, without a bit of 
 shame. With your son we feel that you have 
 given enough. Thank God your enlistment has 
 proved your loyalty. And I ll get my hundred 
 now." 
 
 I just stood up and folded my arms : 
 
 "I am of age, twice," I says. "I do not with 
 draw. I go with my noble son " just for fun. 
 "And not to prove my loyalty." 
 
 The band played like mad, the boys started 
 signing, and we started home. 
 
 "Well, you see how it went, Jonthy," says I. 
 "You got me crazy, too. We d have better 
 stayed at home." 
 
 Jon shakes his head no. 
 
 "Daddy," says he, more to himself than to 
 me, "the reason was that I had to find some 
 thing to take her place here" his heart "I 
 had to have something ! There was such a void 
 there ! And it aches daddy, it aches ! Strange, 
 though, that war should fill the place of love !" 
 190
 
 WHAT JONATHAN FOUND 
 
 "Well," says I, "that s what she does mixes 
 up war and love like thunder does Evelyn." 
 
 "Yes, I couldn t understand that before. I 
 do now. But why should you go?" 
 
 "I got an aching void myself," says I, "and 
 I know where it come from." 
 
 iThat is strange," says Jon. 
 
 "I suppose war s good for all aching voids," 
 says I; "not?" 
 
 "Maybe," nods Jon, and said no more about 
 my withdrawing. That aching void business 
 settled him. He understood that I meant we 
 weren t getting enough to eat just in fun 
 of course. At least I hope so and not that I 
 was in love with some one warlike.
 
 XX 
 
 MORE MYSTERY 
 
 ON the way home we meets the same two 
 soldiers. They surrounded us, savage. 
 
 "You didn t enlist!" challenges the one. 
 "You lied to us. You lied all around." 
 
 "On the contrary," smiles Jon, "we done bet 
 ter than we promised." 
 
 "How do you make that out ?" says the sav 
 age one. 
 
 "We both enlisted instead of only one." 
 
 "You ve got to prove it !" says the other one. 
 "We won t believe you again. 
 
 "You ll find our names at the top of the list, 
 you idiot," says I, "if you go to town and look. 
 Prove it to yourselves or go to the devil !" 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Jon, ready with the oil. 
 "They know what to do, daddy." To them he 
 says: "What my father said is true. But we 
 are in your hands. What are your orders?" 
 192
 
 MORE MYSTERY 
 
 "Back to town," says they. 
 
 On the way one of them says: 
 
 "Why did you tell us your brother was at 
 home ?" 
 
 I was going to speak, and tell em they was 
 out under the trees where they couldn t be 
 foufid easy, but Jon stops me. 
 
 "Were you there?" he asks. 
 
 They don t answer. 
 
 "He s gone away, hasn t he?" they asks in 
 stead. 
 
 "My question to you remains unanswered," 
 says Jon, as fighty now as me. "I ll ask you 
 another. What do you want with my brother 
 Dave?" 
 
 "You re talking to a Union soldier!" says 
 one of em. 
 
 ^You re talking to a Union officer!" says 
 Jon, more savage than I ever heard him speak. 
 "And, I may as well tell you that if you lay 
 a hand on my brother you and this Union 
 officer will have it out together. Let me look 
 at you!"
 
 WAR 
 
 Before he can even think Jon has him by the 
 throat and his gun in his hand, and jerks up 
 his face so that I thought his head would fly 
 off. 
 
 With some help from Jon I managed to get 
 the other one. 
 
 "I ll know you hereafter!" says Jon. "Now 
 march out in front. We re going where you 
 meant to take us. But it s not right for two 
 officers to follow two privates. March !" 
 
 Well, I tell you, I d have marched as 
 straight as they did if Jon d been about a 
 foot behind me with a bayonet ! 
 
 We marches em right back to Kratz. 
 
 "I wish to God I had the authority," says 
 Kratz to them; "I d shoot you right here. It s 
 men like you who are making the most trouble 
 on the border just as you have made it for 
 these men. I don t know whether or not these 
 two Union officers have the right to arrest you 
 while on duty. I suppose not. They re not 
 mustered in yet. I wish they had. I d keep 
 you tight enough, with my hundred boys." 
 194
 
 MORE MYSTERY 
 
 "We want to know," says they, "no matter 
 who you or they are, whether they have en 
 listed." 
 
 "Yes, you fools," says Kratz, "and both are 
 officers! You ll get your court-martial for 
 this if I can accomplish it!" 
 
 They seem sort of flabbergasted when Kratz 
 shows them our names on the paper with cap 
 tain after Jon s and lieutenant after mine. 
 
 "Now," says Kratz, "you d better stop both 
 ering these people ! They command a hundred 
 men. You are only two." 
 
 "Yes, these," nods the soldier. "I suppose 
 they re all right." 
 
 "And if they hadn t started it no one else 
 would have come in. You ve got to thank this 
 young man for a hundred Union recruits out 
 of this secessionist hole." 
 
 Then he puts his arms on both of our shoul 
 ders, and says : 
 
 "Gentlemen, under the circumstances, I feel 
 that I ought to let you both withdraw. Only, 
 in that case, I fear, we lose the whole company. 
 195
 
 WAR 
 
 I see no reason why you should have any vener 
 ation for your country after this. It s discour 
 aging, disheartening. Shall we drop the com 
 pany ?" 
 
 He gets the company roll to cross our names 
 off if we like when Jon stops him still very 
 polite. 
 
 "No," he said, "these men are only doing 
 their duty foolishly though they do it. They 
 have their orders just as you and I will have, 
 presently. Keep our names where we put 
 them. Keep the company." 
 
 Well, the crowd that had gathered is floored 
 by that. 
 
 "My God !" weeps the editor. "Such patriot 
 ism!" 
 
 The two soldiers seems ashamed, and one of 
 them says : 
 
 "Gentlemen, you may go to your homes." 
 
 The other one says : 
 
 "If you need to pass our lines again, the 
 countersign is Washington. There is our con 
 fidence in you both !" 
 
 196
 
 MORE MYSTERY 
 
 Jon was silent for a long time afterward. 
 
 Finally I says : 
 
 "Well, Jonthy?" 
 
 "Daddy, I got to confess, at last, that I 
 don t understand it." 
 
 "Some one has given us a mighty bad name 
 witft the Unions Ben Cricler, I suppose. Well, 
 before I go I ll take a licking out of his hide." 
 
 But Jon shakes his head. 
 
 "I hardly think that would help us. We have 
 done the one thing that will. No one can ques 
 tion, further, the Unionism of men who enlist. 
 Anyhow, it seems to me that the trouble is 
 deeper than Crider. However, there is no use 
 in worrying Evelyn and Dave about it." 
 
 "Don t you think they smell a rat?" asks I. 
 
 "No," smiles nice old Jon, "not even a 
 mouse!"
 
 XXI 
 
 THE FRENZY OF EVELYN 
 
 EVELYN got as white as the wall when 
 she heard it, and choked up and couldn t 
 speak for a while. But, when speech came it 
 made up for halting. She looks Jon straight 
 in the eye, with the horrors in her face and 
 voice, and says: 
 
 "Do you mean to say that you enlisted under 
 Lincoln?" 
 
 Jon looks just as straight back at her. 
 
 "Yes," says he, soft and smiling. 
 
 "And you re proud glad?" 
 
 "Yes," again from Jon. "Why not?" 
 
 "Why not? You bring down upon us de 
 struction destruction destruction! Oh, the 
 ruin, the ruin you have wrought this night !" 
 
 "Dear sister," says Jon, soft and fine. "I 
 198
 
 THE FRENZY OF EVELYN 
 
 hate to tell you, but we are under grievous 
 suspicion. All about us, there is a cordon of 
 Union soldiers. There is a spy named Mallory 
 near us. He has somehow made the Federal 
 authorities believe that one of us is Mallory. 
 Don t you see how dangerous that is for all of 
 us f And that the only way to divert suspicion 
 is for some of us to enlist in the Union army?" 
 
 "And, do you think," shrieks Evelyn, "that 
 that will make the Federal government believe 
 that it has got rid of a Confederate spy?" 
 
 "No," says Jon. "It will find the spy in 
 good time and shoot him. But it will con 
 vince the government that he is not here, not 
 one of us; the horrible suspicions and surveil 
 lance of us will cease and be carried on else 
 where." 
 She gets wilder and wilder. 
 
 "Isn t Dave here to shoulder the suspicion 
 still? And if they think the spy is one of you 
 three, don t you see that you have fastened it 
 down on him alone? Dave, Dave! Before, it 
 might have been any of you three. It was tm- 
 199
 
 .WAR 
 
 certain, and that kept you-all safe, but with you 
 two in the Union army it can only be Dave. * 
 
 At first Jon seems scared by that. But then 
 he smiles and says : 
 
 "Kushy kushy! Why, Dave knows no 
 more about war and spying than a baby. He 
 hasn t been here. How could he be suspected ? 
 And every one is aware of that. There s only 
 one thing he knows since he came home." 
 
 "What s that?" asks Evelyn, sharp and 
 quick. 
 
 "To love you," says nice old Jon. "And 
 don t you think that every one who sees or 
 knows him sees and knows that too? A spy 
 can not be in love or thinking of marriage." 
 
 But all the answer he gets to that is shriek 
 ing, that we have killed her, killed Dave, killed 
 most everybody and thing on earth. 
 
 "Then," says Jon, soft and nice, "what do 
 you think ought to be done to avert suspicion, 
 if daddy and I have made a mistake?" 
 
 "Can t you see?" shrieks Evelyn. "Mallory 
 must enlist Mallory, Mallory, Mallory in 
 200
 
 THE FRENZY OF EVELYN 
 
 the rebel army now to shield Dave. Mallory 
 himself must be got rid of. And he must be 
 known to have gone away. That is the only 
 way now. The only way! That s how this 
 night s work has turned the matter!" 
 
 "But," says Jon, "we don t know him 
 wfeere to find him who he is. He doesn t 
 exist, as far as we know. Yet, they know he 
 does. If he could be found I d kill him! 
 And send them his body. He wouldn t have 
 to enlist." 
 
 "He deserves that," says I, "a man that is too 
 cowardly to shoulder his own deeds, but puts 
 em on some one else! I wish, too, that I d 
 come across him with a gun in my hands !" 
 
 "Dear daddy," says Evelyn, more quiet now, 
 and slow and solemn, "the time is at hand 
 you have brought it to-night for you and 
 your gun and Mallory! Yes, you must kill 
 him that is the better way better than en 
 listing in the rebel army. Death to Mallory!" 
 
 And she actually laughs. 
 
 "Daddy says," put in Jon, puzzled to death, 
 201
 
 WAR 
 
 "that you are Union now. If you re Union 
 why do you bother?" 
 
 "Do you suppose those little things could 
 make me like this?" says Evelyn. "Union 
 rebel ! What are they now ? My God !" 
 
 "They use to be a lot," kind of smiles Jon, 
 and in a nice soft voice. "And, if it s so that 
 you are still rebel " 
 
 She flings up her hands and just goes on. 
 
 "It s Dave Dave Dave !" 
 
 Jon thinks she s gone crazy, and tries to 
 quiet her, and Dave comes in singing: 
 
 " Dear Evelina, 
 Sweet Evelina 
 My love for you can never, never die 
 
 This seemed to make her wilder yet. 
 
 She starts to run away. 
 
 "Jonthy," says I, "do you mind what she 
 said we should do when the devil got her?" 
 
 Jon nods, kind of smiling. 
 
 "Well, here goes," says I, "Jonthy, follow 
 her instructions. Come on !" 
 202
 
 THE FRENZY OF EVELYN 
 
 I drags both Jon and Dave up and forced 
 their arms around her, and my own, yelling: 
 
 "Now hard the harder the better !" 
 
 But that was different. She beat us in our 
 faces till we were black and blue and my nose 
 was bleeding. Only when she had struck 
 Da>ve once he let go and turned his back. At 
 last Jon and I let go, too, and she stood there 
 among us, like a young devil. I was ready to 
 run, and Jon was discouraged at the result of 
 the embracing business. But Dave just turns 
 and looks at her. She starts to say something 
 not so wild and Dave thunders : 
 
 "Silence!" 
 
 And, after a moment: 
 
 "Apologize to daddy and Jon !" 
 
 But nothing happened. She couldn t, she 
 \yas too choked. 
 
 Then Dave turned to us and said : 
 
 "Father brother, since Evelyn will not 
 apologize for herself, I do so for her. I am 
 ashamed of her. I did not know she could be 
 such a devil." 
 
 203
 
 WAR 
 
 He looks at her like a judge, sentencing a 
 man to be hanged. 
 
 "But she must and shall be punished for this 
 sort of thing. Her punishment is " 
 
 Dave turned to her then. 
 
 to be told, for the first time, that I am a 
 Union man. And that nothing has helped so 
 much to make me one as this madness of hers." 
 
 "Ah, what do I care about that!" says Eve 
 lyn. 
 
 "If you care about me you ll care about that 
 and not be entirely blinded by your own 
 prejudices," says Dave. 
 
 "You, too ! You, too ! Why, that s all gone !" 
 
 "I have asked you," says Dave, in a way new 
 and terrible, "to apologize to Jon and daddy. 
 Be as much of a rebel as you like but a lady. 
 There s nothing else to be discussed till that 
 has been done." 
 
 "But, Dave, my own dear Dave, you must 
 see! Don t you-all see? I m not rebel I m 
 not Union I m only Love!" 
 
 I was surprised at Dave. He was as hard as 
 a stone to her. Like a judge on the bench.
 
 THE FRENZY OF EVELYN 
 
 "It s all my own fault," I says. "I said she 
 had turned Union. I thought she told me so. I 
 guess she didn t. Anyhow, she s not Union 
 that s plain. We mustn t pester her." 
 
 "God above us, you don t understand you 
 don t understand I am neither nothing 
 *now God " 
 
 She was scared and pleading now. It was 
 Dave who was, really, unreasonable. 
 
 "Silence!" said Dave once more. 
 
 And there was silence for a moment. Then 
 Dave, by force, takes her hands. Honestly, I 
 don t think she ever loved him more than at 
 that moment when he was almost beating her. 
 You could see it. Like some poor caged pes 
 tered animal. 
 
 "Yes," says Evelyn, more sorry than I ever 
 , saw or heard her, "it s over. I ll keep quiet. 
 I ll be glad to. There s nothing to be done. It 
 can t be mended. You don t understand. You 
 can t, won t. I can t make you. I mustn t. 
 Yes I ll keep quiet. It must be acts now, not 
 words. And quickly quickly!" 
 
 "Yes," says Dave, "there s something wrong 
 20;
 
 WAR 
 
 here, and we ve got to find out what it is and 
 who and quickly. While you were away " 
 
 He turns to Jon and me. 
 
 " two Union soldiers came to the door. 
 They knew that you two were away. Now, 
 who were they hunting?" 
 
 "You," says I before I could think. 
 
 "Dave," shrieks Evelyn. "Now do you 
 see ! That is what you ve done !" 
 
 Jon turns away and says nothing. 
 
 "Then they meant to take me with them if 
 they had found me?" says Dave. 
 
 "It must be," says Jon, then, the only one 
 who was quiet, "that you look like the spy, 
 Mallory." 
 
 "That s what I have thought, heretofore," 
 says Dave. "But there must be something 
 more. They know, by this time, that we are 
 loyal." 
 
 "All but you !" says Evelyn. 
 
 "If they tackle you again, Dave," says I, 
 "give em the countersign Washington . 
 That ll settle em." 
 
 206
 
 THE FRENZY OF EVELYN 
 
 It was not Dave but Evelyn who asked what 
 it was. 
 
 "Washington," says I. "We d better all 
 keep it in mind." 
 
 Dave takes no notice of it. He s looking at 
 Evelyn. Jon kicks me on the shin I don t 
 ^now what for to this day. But I hears Eve 
 lyn repeat, under her breath : 
 
 "Washington! Thank God! If you don t 
 understand, you help in your ignorance." 
 
 Dave turns on her savage. 
 
 "I love you," says he. "What has happened 
 here makes no difference in that. But, you 
 must be at least courteous to Jon and daddy 
 even when in this devil s mood. I will make 
 you be even if I have to beat you." 
 
 "What?" she asks, as if it wasn t possible 
 that it was from Dave. "Did you say that you 
 would beat me me you, Dave?" 
 
 And she inches up and touches him, mighty 
 pitiful. 
 
 Dave pays no attention to the touch, but 
 says, hard as iron : 
 
 207
 
 WAR 
 
 "Yes! That is what I said." 
 
 "None of us are like ourselves any more," 
 says Evelyn, "but none are so far from it as 
 you, my dear, dear David. Think what you 
 have said to me! Is it the war has set us all 
 at each other s throats? Let us come back to 
 each other! After all, what does all the rest 
 matter if we have each other? Without you- 
 all I have nobody nothing. I am sorry for 
 my part in it. Come! Let s put our arms 
 around each other and make up !" 
 
 She holds out her arms and passes her eyes 
 from one to the other, but some devil she had 
 roused was in us all and held us, and none of 
 us answered not even Jon. She gets very 
 pale and staggers a little, then drops her head 
 on her breast and turns to go away. 
 
 "Wait !" commands Dave. "There are some 
 questions you must answer. Wait !" 
 
 "Please let me go and kill myself!" she begs. 
 But, then, she shudders and comes back to 
 Dave as if she had thought of something terri 
 ble. 
 
 208
 
 THE FRENZY OF EVELYN 
 
 "No, no ! No, I must live. That is the only 
 way! Don t be afraid. I won t kill myself. I 
 daren t." So, she stands trembling and sorry, 
 like a whipped child, among us three brutes 
 waiting for more whipping. If there is one 
 moment in my life of which I am more 
 ashamed than another, that s the one. 
 
 Dave spoke at last, but it was still like a 
 young brute. 
 
 "I don t know who is the cause of this. But 
 it is certain that you, Evelyn, through your pas 
 sions, have your share in it. Therefore, you 
 have got to do your share of the suffering." 
 
 "Yes," whispers Evelyn, "I shall do my full 
 
 share of the suffering. I am willing. Ready. 
 
 And my share is laid out ! I know it now ! May 
 
 I go daddy Jon Dave, and begin it? I 
 
 .can t stand much more !" 
 
 But Dave says, more quiet now : 
 
 "No. This is the wrong time to let you go, 
 
 Evelyn, or you us. It s my opinion that we ve 
 
 got to hang together or we ll hang separately 
 
 as Benjamin Franklin said." He was all 
 
 209
 
 WAR 
 
 changed in a minute, and just held her and 
 looked in her face without a word, till her head 
 drooped, and her shoulders shook, and she 
 cried like a baby. 
 
 "Now, we re all right," smiles Dave, "be 
 cause we re all wrong and sorry for it," and 
 puts his arm about her and leads her out under 
 the plums. 
 
 And, presently, we could hear them talk 
 ing. Once in a while something came through : 
 
 "Yes, oh, my dear Dave, once I used to be 
 crazy about the South. I love it still, of course 
 just as you love your own country. Till you 
 came. Then there was nothing but you. To 
 night, Dave, it wasn t that my Southern sym 
 pathies. That s all gone. It was you in 
 awful peril that was it." 
 
 "Of what?" asks Dave. 
 
 "I can t tell you I can t tell you !" 
 
 "Because you don t know," laughs Dave. 
 "Same way with me. I can t tell what I don t 
 know. None of us know. Maybe it s nothing." 
 
 "No, Dave, we re ruined me you daddy 
 Jon!"
 
 THE FRENZY OF EVELYN 
 
 "Well, I love this kind of ruins." 
 
 I suppose he kissed her then. 
 
 "Dave just one thing more " 
 
 "More than one, more 
 
 "Is everything forgiven and apologized?" 
 
 "Sh!" laughs Dave. "I m ashamed." 
 f, "Do you think you will ever ever talk to 
 me about me no matter how bad I may be 
 like that, again, Dave?" 
 
 "I m going to get insured against it," laughs 
 Dave. 
 
 "Dave," says Evelyn, "do you know I came 
 near dying?" 
 
 "No," says Dave. 
 
 "Yes, my heart stopped quite stopped. Ev 
 erything had passed away. And, Dave, my 
 dear Dave, do you know that I m afraid that 
 if you are that cross to me again I shall die ! 
 Yes, right before you. For I, really, can t 
 live without you. Honest, when I felt, this 
 evening, that you were going away from me, 
 everything went out of me with you even my 
 life. You came back to me just in time to save 
 my life. So, if you don t want me to die right 
 
 211
 
 WAR 
 
 before you please don t be so cross any 
 more !" 
 
 Then, after a long while: "And I daren t 
 die, Dave, I daren t! I must live!" 
 
 "Not on your life!" laughs Dave. "I hate 
 funerals." 
 
 What do you think of that! Only fifteen 
 minutes between hell and Heaven ! And Dave 
 traveling the way faster than Evelyn ! Sure 
 the war had got us all wrong somehow the 
 rest of us worse than Evelyn now !
 
 XXII 
 
 /. 
 
 THE WEDDING MARCH - TO THE PUMP TROUGH 
 
 ," says I, afterward, "you cer- 
 tainly fixed that up grand after un 
 fixing it grand. You deserve a horse-trainer s 
 prize at the next county fair and a spanking." 
 
 Dave laughs like he d burst open. 
 
 "Wasn t I red war and rumors of war that 
 day ? I wonder what was the matter with me ? 
 I was fighting on both sides, wasn t I?" 
 
 "You was, Davy," says I, "and in the mid 
 dle. And you done it fine. But what did she 
 say afterward ?" 
 
 "Well, let me see," says Dave, laughing. 
 "She said she was ruined and we were all 
 ruined, but that, maybe, if her strength and 
 courage held out. she d be able to rescue us 
 all, yet by sacrificing herself " 
 
 "What was the ruin ?" 
 213
 
 WAR 
 
 "Lord, I don t know." 
 
 "Didn t she tell you?" 
 
 "N-no," says Dave, "I don t think she could. 
 No one can. Something s got to happen to 
 let us know. Maybe it s because she s a rebel. 
 She thinks that she s the whole thing, and 
 soon she ll have us licked and begging for 
 our lives. She s going to try to save ours for 
 us, so s we can beg." 
 
 "You think that s it ?" asks I. Dave nods. 
 
 "Well, what s the harm in letting her think 
 so hereafter, if she s happy with it? It s better 
 than a fight with her. As soon as it wears off 
 and she finds herself the only one still fighting, 
 she ll get lonely and stop. I don t care whether 
 she s a rebel or not, if she just stays Evelyn. 
 I guess we all feel mighty mean about the other 
 night. Why are you recalling it?" 
 
 "What else did she say, Davy?" asks I. 
 
 "What else? Um she said she loved me, 
 daddy." 
 
 "Uhu ! And what did you say, Davy ?" 
 
 "I said that I loved her." 
 214
 
 THE WEDDING MARCH 
 
 "I expect that was the end of the conversa 
 tion. There was nothing more to be said, was 
 there?" 
 
 "Oh, yes. That was only the beginning. 
 She said that she loved me the most." 
 
 "And you said " 
 
 "That I loved her the most." 
 
 "Well, that must have been the end, not ?" 
 
 "Not at all, daddy. We talked two hours 
 longer. She said I didn t." 
 
 "Ah, and you had no answer to that, so?" 
 
 "Certainly. I said I did." 
 
 "Well was that all?" 
 
 "No. She said she d prove it." 
 
 "Then she had all your checkers, hadn t 
 she?" 
 
 "No. I said she couldn t." 
 
 "Goshens ! Then you had em !" 
 
 "Not yet. She said I should remember that 
 only a little while!" 
 
 "And you says you will?" 
 
 "Yes, daddy." 
 
 "And what then?" 
 
 215
 
 WAR 
 
 "She cries like a baby." 
 
 "Anything more?" 
 
 "I kisses her." 
 
 "And?" 
 
 "Intermission arms all around." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well, then I says that I m sorry about the 
 other night, and that you were a brute." 
 
 "Proceed." 
 
 "She said she was sorry. That she thought 
 she was killed. But not just yet." 
 
 "And, so" 
 
 "I says I m more sorry." 
 
 "And yet" 
 
 "She says that she s more sorry and she can 
 prove it." 
 
 "So?" 
 
 "I says she can t" 
 
 "Then she had you." 
 
 "She says, again, she can, and to remember 
 it. Think of her when it happens." 
 
 "And you will, not?" 
 216
 
 THE WEDDING MARCH 
 
 "No. I said I was going to forget it and she 
 should. That I d never make her sorry again. 
 I really don t know what came over me that 
 night unless I was, at last, fighting mad at 
 that skunk, Mallory, and taking it out on her." 
 
 "And she says so, too ?" 
 
 "She says if she only could forget it! But 
 that she had to remember it. Our salvation 
 was in it." 
 
 "And, of course 
 
 "She cries, again, like a baby." 
 
 "So? And what?" 
 
 He hooks his arm in mine and drags me to 
 the horse trough, whistling the wedding march ! 
 
 "If we can just jolly her a little longer the 
 war will be over and she ll be licked and have 
 to stop fighting. Of course, she ll never give 
 up till after and then- 
 He whistles some more of the wedding 
 march and leads me back. 
 
 "You know the law is that a husband may 
 castigate his wife with a stick provided it is 
 217
 
 WAR 
 
 no thicker than his thumb. See ! My thumb s 
 about an inch thick. Thanks to you, daddy. 
 Understand ?" 
 
 "You d never do it, David," says I. "You ll 
 never be like that day again. You d better 
 enlist in the Union army, too for protection. 
 You were too young when you came home. 
 But you could get in now. You re much older- 
 looking since you fell in love." 
 
 "Not on your wafer," says Dave. "They 
 don t take any one in love. It s a fundamental 
 disability. You and Jon can have all the war 
 you want. They ll take you. You re not 
 in love. I ve got something better on hand. 
 And there it is!" he says, as Evelyn comes up 
 the yard. "She is the captain, the general, the 
 commander-in-chief ! N a rum turn tummy! 
 N a rum turn turn !" 
 
 He runs off to meet her, singing : 
 
 "Wie komme die Soldat* in den Himmel f 
 Wie komme die Soldat in den Himmelf 
 Auf a grosse weisse Shimmel 
 Komme die Soldat in den Himmel!" 
 
 218
 
 THE WEDDING MARCH 
 
 He dragged her clean up to where I was, 
 and, bowing, with their hands together, they 
 sung at me : 
 
 "Ja, in mei Vater s Garten 
 Da wachst n schones Blumelcin " 
 
 "And, here s the flower, daddy," says Dave. 
 
 Then he drags her away again, and in a min 
 ute I saw them on the horses riding and yelling 
 after each other up the Red Rock Road. 
 
 Such foolishness! 
 
 Yet do you blame me for not thinking of 
 any trouble when Dave and Evelyn was like 
 that? What did all that of the other day mean 
 after this? Nothing!
 
 XXIII 
 
 LUCAS MALLORY AT LAST 
 
 L BOUT two weeks later, one day, Evelyn 
 had been in town and came home late 
 wearing a veil all bound round her head. This 
 was unusual with her, and besides, it was 
 warm. 
 
 "I look so dreadfully when I am tired, 
 daddy, that s the reason," she said to me when 
 I asked her. "And might I have a little supper 
 in my room?" 
 
 "Of course," says I. 
 
 "Then I think I ll go straight to bed. I m 
 fearfully tired." 
 
 "You act like you re going to faint," says I. 
 "If you feel any worse, let me know and one 
 of the boys must go for the doctor." 
 
 "Oh, I ll be all right in the morning. Sleep 
 is all I need. Sleep! Oh, God sleep, sleep!" 
 220
 
 LUCAS MALLORY AT LAST 
 
 She repeats it and sighs like she don t know 
 what it means. And I don t think she did. She 
 looked it. Her light was always burning. 
 
 It was my watch that night, and I was fur 
 ther from home than usual. For I had seen 
 some curious lights in the neighborhood of the 
 Ferry Road. I was sitting, in the edge of 
 Harg s woods, quiet, with my carbine ready, 
 listening for a repetition of some sounds I had 
 heard. A whistle and a cough, it seemed like, 
 when I sees something more substantial than 
 the shadows I had watched so often steal out 
 of the woods into the road. In a moment I 
 knew that it was a man. Then, though it was 
 shadowy, I saw that it was a soldier, because 
 of the faint gleam of his rifle. 
 
 "Halt!" I calls out. "Who is it? Don t 
 move. If you do I ll fire." 
 
 If I d fired without so much talk I d have got 
 him then and there. But he dodged back into 
 the bushes. I started to run. 
 
 "I m a Union officer," I yells, "and by the 
 Lord, I ll do my duty if you don t stop. If you 
 
 22 1
 
 WAR 
 
 do you won t be hurt. I m armed. Give the 
 password !" 
 
 Well, just about the last syllable, he fires at 
 me, the charge going somewhere up in the tree- 
 tops. Then came several shots at me from 
 different directions. 
 
 You know how it is. When a man fires on 
 you, especially several, you fire, too, though 
 he may have missed you by a mile. I suppose 
 it s the intention you don t like. I fired as I 
 ran straight at the spot in the bushes where 
 the other lead had come from. I heard a cry 
 and knew I hadn t missed. 
 
 "It s your own fault," I says, as I runs up. 
 "If you d stopped and answered I wouldn t 
 have fired. Are you badly hurt ? I don t like 
 to kill people. But these are war-times and 
 
 I had reached the man. He lay quite still. 
 I lifted him in my arms and ran to the house. 
 Now and then he d murmur, "Washington!" 
 I remembered, afterward, that he seemed not 
 quite the sort of body I had thought to pick up. 
 222
 
 LUCAS MALLORY AT LAST 
 
 I put him down on the kitchen floor and struck 
 a light. It was Evelyn. 
 
 She was in heavy army shoes, and a new 
 Confederate uniform. Her hair had been cut 
 off. 
 
 I raced up-stairs with her and put her on her 
 bed, calling Betsy. But, before waiting for 
 her to get there, I ripped open her jacket to 
 find the wound. A rough gray undershirt, a 
 man s, instead of the dainty things she ought 
 to have worn, covered her nice body. It was 
 soaked with blood.
 
 XXIV 
 
 A FAVOR TO SHOOT HER 
 
 BEFORE Betsy could dress and get there 
 Evelyn came to. She understood the 
 whole thing at once. 
 
 "Evelyn," I says, "I didn t know it was 
 you." 
 
 Well, with all that blood running out of her 
 she laughs and hugs me ! 
 
 "And I didn t know it was you! Thought 
 it a picket. What a state of things ! How did 
 you make your voice roar so? My, but you 
 frightened me. You could tell that by the 
 way I fired. Did any stars fall?" 
 
 I couldn t believe it for a minute or two ! 
 
 "Daddy, do it again," she begs, "please roar 
 again ! I suppose you were scared, too !" 
 
 She laughs and hugs me again. 
 224
 
 A FAVOR TO SHOOT HER 
 
 "Evelyn, forgive me," I says, sorry enough 
 for both of us, God knows. 
 
 "On one condition," says she, with all her 
 wits, and putting a hand on the wound to stop 
 its bleeding, "that you never tell on me. And 
 help me." 
 
 Well, I was in such a state that I would have 
 agreed to any other condition. But I says : 
 
 "On one condition that you don t die." 
 
 "Agreed," she says. "I won t die. Oh, I m 
 so glad to live now! It is really not much. 
 In the lower left-hand corner of my jacket is 
 a package of things for self-help in case of 
 wounds sewed in the lining. Cut it out." 
 
 As I took up the bloody jacket she laughed 
 again and said : 
 
 "That s what I was making, and unmaking, 
 -like Penelope, daddy, dear. Not a trousseau, 
 is it? And it is all beautifully done. Feather- 
 stitching, felling, quilting! Look at it. And 
 see what you ve done to it ruined it at the 
 very first wearing. I said you were never to 
 see it. And I meant it. But you never can
 
 WAR 
 
 tell. Oh, my God, I thank thee ! Now now 
 you understand, daddy !" 
 
 But it was sobs for a minute then. 
 
 I got the bandages and the medicines, and 
 with a little help from me she bound up the 
 wound as good as any doctor could. 
 
 "Stand outside the door," she commands me 
 briskly, "and if Betsy should come, tell her I 
 had nightmare and called out, but am asleep 
 again." 
 
 I did so, and, when Betsy came, which was 
 soon, I told her that. She was glad to be able 
 to go back to bed again. 
 
 "Come in," whispers Evelyn, through the 
 door. 
 
 When I enters again, Evelyn is in her 
 nightie, like a regular girl. The uniform is 
 gone. You ll hardly believe it, but she laughs 
 and pulls me down on the bed beside her. 
 
 "Don t look so sorry, daddy," she laughs, 
 "you have done me a big favor." 
 
 "Gosh-a-mighty !" says I, "that s the first time 
 I ever heard it called a favor to shoot you !" 
 226
 
 A FAVOR TO SHOOT HER 
 
 "You didn t shoot me much. I had to go 
 just simply had to to save us. I was in such 
 a position that I had to. You and Jon 
 enlisting forced me. Anyhow, they wouldn t 
 have waited much longer for the making of 
 the uniform. What immortal fools we be! 
 nee I tried to make myself believe that I 
 wanted to; but the first thought I had after 
 your bullet struck and before I fainted was 
 that now I had a good excuse for not How 
 I am running on ! Never mind. The blood 
 has stopped. You won t even have to get me 
 a doctor. If I should need one I will let you 
 know promptly. Don t worry. So much for 
 that. I can take care of it. Your bullet went 
 through. And at a not very thick place. If 
 no blood poisoning sets in I will be all right. 
 I know you use nice clean bullets. If it does 
 turn bad off for a doctor you go you, not 
 Jon or Dave and you must keep my secret 
 as sworn, aforesaid. But about my hair 
 that s the difficulty. It will be best for you 
 to say that it was coming out so fast that you 
 227
 
 .WAR 
 
 advised the cutting. That you cut it, in fact. 
 It s not a very good job. I will stay in my room 
 for some time I will have to and by the time 
 they see me again they will not be surprised by 
 its loss. Is it all right? Are we pals in this?" 
 
 She was so gay and happy that this was still 
 another Evelyn ! Full of fun after just escap 
 ing being killed ! What do you think of that ! 
 
 "Yes," I says, "pals in this and everything 
 to the death." 
 
 "Not death," she shivers. "I don t have to 
 die now since I m killed." 
 
 She pulls me down and hugs and kisses me. 
 
 "Oh, daddy," she says, happy as can be. 
 "you certainly did me a great favor in shoot 
 ing me ! They ll be satisfied with that. Who d 
 ever thought of anything so easy? They ll 
 know who Mallory is now. God knows where 
 I would have been by this time because I 
 must must. Now I am here" and she whis 
 pers, soft as praying, "where Dave is!" 
 
 Then some more hugs and kisses and she 
 pushes me away. 
 
 228
 
 A FAVOR TO SHOOT HER 
 
 "Good night, dearest of daddies, you ve done 
 me the favor of my life. Honest! I wonder 
 if I could have carried it through? When I 
 heard that whistle I wanted to run home in 
 stead of to the Potomac. My head knew the 
 way South, but my legs knew only the way 
 hjack to you-all. Dave s black was waiting for 
 me. I was to go into the cavalry, Stuart s. 
 I had already enlisted as Mallory." 
 
 Then it seemed as if the horror of it sud 
 denly came over her. She sobbed, shrieked, 
 raved for a minute. 
 
 "Oh, daddy, you don t know what you have 
 saved me from. Why, daddy, if you had had 
 to kill me if I were lying here now dying 
 I would thank you ! Yes, that would be better 
 than anything I had planned! Yes! Daddy, 
 daddy, God bless that bullet of yours! And, 
 yes, yes, as I said before, good night, dearest 
 of daddies, good night! Thank you thank 
 you so much for shooting me. There seemed 
 no way out. Then you come with your gun 
 and, lo! it is all fixed as quickly as that shot 
 229
 
 WAR 
 
 of yours came after me. Yes, yes, good night 
 good night " 
 
 Then I has an idea got from Jon. 
 
 "Now listen. There s a way a way to hap 
 piness for us all a very nice way. It s all 
 fixed. Jon has been sure that you were making 
 your wedding things in your room and that 
 you and Dave were going to spring a wedding 
 on us. The way out of the whole matter is to 
 do it, carry that whole idea out. As Dave s 
 wife they ve got to let you alone. Of course, 
 he ll beat you sometimes like that night, ha, 
 ha!" 
 
 Such a light as came into her face at that I 
 never saw before. 
 
 "Daddy, oh, my darling daddy! Do you 
 think it can be done? Will Dave marry me? 
 with so many things to be explained?" 
 
 "Sight unseen!" says I, glad that she took 
 it so well. "I ll see to that. I ll speak to Parr 
 Kellermann as soon as you are well enough to 
 get ready." 
 
 230
 
 A FAVOR TO SHOOT HER 
 
 "I ll begin to-night," laughs Evelyn. "Make 
 him marry me !" 
 
 "Not quite so fast as that," says I, serious 
 now. "Before I make Dave marry you, you 
 got to promise that you ll behave. You re 
 member how savage he was when he said he d 
 beat you. Well, if you don t behave he ll do 
 it. He ll break you just like he does horses!" 
 
 "Yes, yes!" she laughs, and hugs me, "I 
 know!" 
 
 "Well, I hate to see Dave treat you like a 
 horse." 
 
 "Don t the horses like him afterward?" 
 
 "You bet they do." 
 
 "So shall I, daddy, darling." 
 
 "What, you mean that you ain t afraid to 
 be broke like a horse by Dave ?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "By goshens, I believe you re crazy to have 
 him do it!" 
 
 She nods. 
 
 "Well," I says, "I expect the soldier was 
 231
 
 WAR 
 
 right that I am a little slow at the head. I ll 
 never understand that." 
 
 "Not till you re a woman," says Evelyn. 
 "Good night, daddy, dear. And thank you for 
 not saying it the other time. No. Wait. / 
 have an idea." 
 
 "Hurry before it gets away !" laughs I. 
 
 "They re both so innocent and trusting, not 
 such villains as you and I, that, maybe, Jon 
 and Dave would believe that that is the cause 
 of my illness getting ready for my wedding. 
 I I was so crazy for it ! You know that s an 
 awful strain on a girl." 
 
 "I ve never been a girl," says I. "But how 
 are you going to make Dave believe in the 
 craziness for the wedding? He s asked you 
 seventy-five times to fix a day and you 
 wouldn t." 
 
 "I couldn t, daddy, daddy, dear. Don t you 
 
 see that this was hanging over me ? Oh, it has 
 
 been like the sword of Damocles ever since 
 
 Dave came. For, it was then too late already. 
 
 232
 
 A FAVOR TO SHOOT HER 
 
 What I had to do to-day was inevitable then. 
 Wasn t it awful?" 
 
 "Rather awful," says I, "but don t say dam . 
 It s not nice for ladies" though, of course, I 
 knew who Damocles was I looked it up. "The 
 way to fix it is to fix old Jon first, and then get 
 him after Dave. Dave ll believe anything 
 Jonthy tells him if it s that the end of the 
 world is coming to-morrow at seven minutes 
 apast eight. And Jon ll believe in anything 
 that comes from you, if it turns white black. 
 But don t forget that Dave s the fellow you re 
 going to marry, not Jon, and if he don t know 
 anything about it " 
 
 She laughs in the old-fashioned happy way. 
 
 "Oh, my dear, old, blind daddy! Why, 
 what do you think has been going on right 
 under your big old nose all the time?" 
 
 "Well, what?" says I. 
 
 "Daddy, Dave asked me to marry him the 
 first day and also the second and third day 
 after he came home !" 
 
 233
 
 WAR 
 
 "Gosh-a-mighty!" says I. "Now, you don t 
 say, you don t really say so ! That quick ! Not 
 a minute wasted ! And what did you say ?" 
 
 She laughs again, like she d burst open. 
 
 "What did I say ! Do you really have to be 
 told that?" 
 
 "Yes," I says, "I want to know. I m thick 
 in my skull." 
 
 Then she turns solemn. 
 
 "Why, daddy, I said what every other 
 woman on earth would have said, if he had 
 asked them!" 
 
 "He didn t ask the others, I expect," says I, 
 "anyhow, not quite all of them. And I don t 
 know what they said. But what did you say? 
 that s the conundrum that bothers me." 
 
 She pulls my ear down and whispers in it : 
 
 "Yes! And then, so that he couldn t mis 
 understand it would have been frightful for 
 him to misunderstand, like his dear old daddy, 
 wouldn t it?" 
 
 "I expect so," nods I. 
 
 "Well, then, so that he might not misunder- 
 234
 
 A FAVOR TO SHOOT HER 
 
 stand, I said it many times over, and every time 
 I said it I" 
 
 Gosh ! She kisses me about fifty times ! 
 
 "Now, is it all perfectly plain?" she asks. 
 
 "Well," I says, "I expect that means that 
 you re engaged ?" 
 
 "Oh, daddy! What did you do when that 
 happened? Maybe you are a little thick- 
 She hammers my head. 
 
 "Me? I had to have it plain as a big red 
 barn. You can t fire things into me like out of 
 a gun. I got to have time to think what it is 
 first. Up and down, right and left, backward 
 and forward, inside and out. I asked mother, 
 right out if she d marry me. No kissing. And 
 she said just as right out that she would. 
 Then she puts her hands down at her sides, 
 and I pushes my whiskers out of the way 
 and kisses her. Anyhow, I think I did. That 
 was the intention though I m not sure where 
 I struck. You see, I had read all about pro 
 posing in The Lover s Companion, and so far 
 as I could recollect when it happened, that is 
 235
 
 WAR 
 
 the way it said, and that is the way it hap 
 pened so far as I could recollect." 
 
 "If Dave and I had only known that you had 
 The Lover s Companion! I suppose we did 
 it very badly. On the first day he just sug 
 gests it. On the second day he demands it. 
 On the third he suddenly lifts me from my 
 horse, and nearly breaks me in two. You re 
 going to be married/ says he, before you know 
 it, girl! " 
 
 " You don t say so ! says I. And who is 
 the unhappy bridegroom? 
 
 " I am, " says Dave. Now say when? 
 
 "And, did you?" asks I. 
 
 "Not yet," laughs Evelyn, "but I can easy 
 say that I had fixed the time by myself to sur 
 prise him. Yes, tell them that I got sick mak 
 ing my wedding things !" 
 
 "All right," I says, and starts to go. 
 
 But she pulls me back again. 
 
 "Do you think they ll stop to wonder why a 
 bride cuts off her hair?" 
 
 "Dave won t. He ll never know it if you 
 don t show it to him." 
 
 236
 
 A FAVOR TO SHOOT HER 
 
 "Then, let s not say anything about it till 
 after the wedding." 
 
 "All right. Anyhow, you can wear a net, 
 filled with hair out of the sofa." 
 
 "And, daddy, I think, in a very little while, 
 you might speak to Parr Kellermann." 
 
 "All in good time. I got to get it through 
 Dave that you are going to marry him, by fair 
 means or foul, and behave yourself first." 
 
 "And last, too, daddy," she laughs. 
 
 I was trying hard to go. 
 
 "And, daddy, dear daddy, do you think you 
 could get Jon and Dave to stay in the house 
 for a while? As long as I am sick?" 
 
 "Why?" says I. 
 
 "Never mind that if your skull s so thick! 
 Just get them to do it. If nothing else will do, 
 say that I asked it. If they will, they may 
 come here every day and be with me! Then 
 I ll be sure." 
 
 "My," says I, "do you think anything else 
 is needed? That s enough." 
 
 "Daddy, dear," whispers Evelyn, "put Dave s 
 horse back in the stable. He s in Harg s woods."
 
 XXV 
 
 ORDER NUMBER 249 
 
 ON MY bureau was a note she had writ 
 ten for me. 
 
 "Daddy," it said, "I am Mallory this is 
 the only solution. They know in the North 
 now. They know in the South. And you 
 know what they do to spies. Both sides. 
 And the horror of it is that they won t do it 
 to me, but to Dave, who they think is Mal 
 lory. But if they know that Mallory has gone 
 from here to Stuart, and I have made that cer 
 tain, all will be well, only, he must turn up 
 there oh, daddy, daddy, daddy! Can t you 
 help me? Can t some one? Just think of it! 
 I must be a soldier. I ll die of shame, of 
 course, but I daren t until I have taken the 
 danger from you-all, and am known as Mal 
 lory. 
 
 238
 
 ORDER NUMBER 249 
 
 "You see, daddy, dear, how horrid a master 
 evil becomes. I began to help just help the 
 South a little in my anger, in my madness for 
 vengeance. That wasn t bad, was it, to help 
 my people? oh, I do love them! And Dave 
 hadn t come and there was no Dave-love. 
 Well, I couldn t tell them that I was a woman 
 a girl, in fact could I? that wouldn t 
 have been nice so I let them think I was a 
 man. I took the name of Lucas Mallory. 
 Daddy, the thing I didn t think of didn t 
 once expect, was that they would not sus 
 pect me, when it came to suspecting, but all 
 of you, and last have to think Dave was 
 Mallory. See? Well, there is nothing to be 
 done but for me, who brought the evil upon 
 you, to take it with me. This I do to-night. 
 The spy, Lucas Mallory, disappears to-night 
 and reappears in the Confederate army. All 
 of his activity here will cease. I have signaled 
 that and when Stuart corroborates me, which 
 I shall see to, you will hear no more of sus 
 picion or treason and will be left at peace. 
 239
 
 .WAR 
 
 But me where, what shall I be ? And Dave. 
 will he hate me? 
 
 "Keep on loving me, oh, please ! Make them 
 all love me always! Don t tell Dave. Say 
 I was drowned or something like that. If 
 you knew how hard it is! If you knew the 
 sacrifice! I must go. The signals are getting 
 violent Good-by! Forever, good-by!" 
 
 Something brought to mind the bundle of 
 papers the officer had dropped that day when 
 he got Betsy s pies. I went and got them. 
 
 They were mostly letters from a wife and a 
 little girl with their photographs. But there 
 was one which wasn t. 
 
 "Order No. 249," it read. "All persons in 
 the guise of pretended loyal citizens, acting 
 under false names or other false pretenses, 
 within our lines, and giving aid, arms, am 
 munition or supplies of any kind whatso 
 ever, or furnishing information to, or com 
 municating with, the enemy, are spies, and 
 arc to be taken, condemned, and shot as such. 
 240
 
 ORDER NUMBER 249 
 
 In this connection, the government, and the 
 general commanding the department, call your 
 attention to the rumors of the activity of a 
 secret, treasonable organization named the 
 Knights of the Golden Circle, composed of so- 
 called Copperheads, and sympathizers, for the 
 purpose of furnishing comfort, giving aid, 
 supplies, recruits and information of our 
 movements to the enemy, a lodge of which 
 is said to be in your immediate vicinity. You 
 are especially expected to capture and thus 
 summarily end the activity of a spy named 
 Lucas Mallory, a man who has, thus far, 
 eluded all attempts to take him. Before his 
 execution you will endeavor to secure from 
 him such information as will enable you to 
 apprehend all members of the said treasonable 
 organization, or organizations, together with 
 such evidence as can be secured, as well as to 
 locate the said lodge and capture and dispose of 
 all persons having anything to do with its oper 
 ation. The general is determined that this hot- 
 241
 
 WAR 
 
 bed of treason shall be stamped out. And to 
 effect this you are hereby given military au 
 thority adequate to the object proposed."
 
 XXVI 
 
 * TANKOO 
 
 WELL, I must leave you to imagine 
 what my feelings were as I looked 
 down, day after day, on that beautiful, bloody 
 thing with my bullet in it. I can t tell you it 
 chokes me up now unless a little story of Jon 
 and me would do it. 
 
 I used to gun a good deal when I was young. 
 Once, when I was out for rabbits I found a 
 cunning young one just a couple of inches long, 
 a regular little cotton-tail with no parents 
 about. I expect, maybe, that I had killed em. 
 It was starving to death. I brung it home for 
 Jon about three or four year old then. Well, 
 you never saw no better friends ! Jon fed him 
 like a mother and he took it. That little bunny 
 would follow Jon about like they was brothers. 
 243
 
 .WAR 
 
 He d come to the table and sit at Jon s elbow 
 and eat sometimes out of the same dish. 
 
 Jon he made a little funny collar, out of 
 some oyster pearls and a string for him. And 
 he called him Tankoo, because he tried to say 
 "Thank you" when I brung it for him. He 
 growed so fast with all the feed Jon pushed 
 into him that soon he was a large regular rab 
 bit. But he never stopped those intimate ac 
 quaintances with Jon. 
 
 Then, one morning, in the gunning season, I 
 looks out of the window and sees a rabbit run 
 ning about in the Red Meadow. I grabs my 
 gun and calls out to Jon to come and we d "get 
 him." I know now that when I said "get 
 him" Jon didn t think I meant to kill him. 
 He looked a little funny at my gun, but we 
 were on the run to the pasture and he didn t 
 have time to say anything. When we got to 
 the meadow the bunny had disappeared But, 
 in a minute he runs straight toward us from 
 behind some bushes. I fires and he falls. 
 When we gets to him it is Tankoo. 
 244
 
 TANKOO 
 
 Little Jon says nothing, only looks at me, for 
 a long time. I remember that look now. How 
 pale his little face was! How his young blue 
 eyes blazed accusation at me ! 
 
 He took Tankoo in his arms, all bloody and 
 ragged not understanding not understand 
 ing at all and when he can t hold his little 
 head up, only open and close his brown eyes, 
 like he was tired and hurt, Jon holds him out 
 to me and shrieks : 
 
 "Fix him! Holes in him! Oo done it!" 
 But there was no fixing Tankoo. He put his 
 head under my little boy s arm and died. 
 
 And I don t like to remember his look when 
 he drew the head of the animal forth and 
 found the eyes steadily open but in them no 
 sight. 
 
 When he understood he looked up at me. 
 And I see that look often in the nights when 
 I think cruel thoughts. 
 
 Betsy said, afterward, that when Tankoo 
 found us both gone he ran about like crazy to 
 find us. So she took him to the window up- 
 245
 
 WAR 
 
 stairs, where he could see, then let him go and 
 he scampered off after us just to love us, she 
 said, and got shot for it. 
 
 In the most remote and beautiful part of the 
 garden the little boy buried Tankoo. Then he 
 made a small tablet for the grave on which he 
 got Betsy to write : 
 
 TANKOO 
 
 KILLED BY DADDY 
 JUNE IOTH, 1859. 
 
 I have never killed an animal since. And 
 only the war made me raise my gun against my 
 own kind. But, I think I never saw a man fall 
 in battle that that saying of little Jon s didn t 
 come to me : 
 
 "Fix him! Holes in him! You done it!" 
 And then I would, often, see that little tab 
 let Jon had placed at the bunny s grave : 
 
 TANKOO 
 
 KILLED BY DADDY 
 
 Only, instead of killed, the tablet I saw read 
 "murdered". 
 
 246
 
 TANKOO 
 
 And Jon has told me that the same thoughts 
 have come to him amidst the dead and 
 wounded on the battle-field. 
 
 No ! I wouldn t kill an animal. But I would 
 kill my own kind in that thing of murder 
 called War. 
 
 And that is what constantly came into my 
 mind when I was with Evelyn : 
 
 "Fix her ! Holes in her ! You done it !" 
 
 Next day was uncomfortable for me. For, 
 besides lying to all the rest, I had to look out 
 that there was no change for the worse in Eve 
 lyn. But she was so happy even happier than 
 the night before that I had shot her that she 
 seemed to forget the wound. It was regular 
 faith-cure. 
 
 "Why, I could get up, daddy," she laughs, 
 "if you weren t working to make my hair-cut 
 convincing." 
 
 In the afternoon I wanders up to the garret. 
 There were two lamps near the window fac 
 ing south, which I had never seen before. 
 Nearly new. Stuffed behind the window- 
 247
 
 WAR 
 
 frame, like some one had done it hastily, was 
 some fresh clean writing-paper with this on it : 
 
 Lii 
 JL II 
 
 ti 
 
 111 ILT 
 
 And on the other side of the frame wa 
 another paper ragged and old, with this on it.
 
 TANKOO 
 
 I takes the things back to ask Evelyn what 
 it meant. 
 
 "Well," she says after a while, "if you had 
 promised to go to dinner at a friend s house 
 and got shot wouldn t you send your re 
 grets?" 
 
 *" "Yes, I expect I would," says I, "if it wasn t 
 dangerous." 
 
 "You may tear up that chart, daddy, dear, 
 and put away the lamps. It s all over like 
 a nightmare. They re no more use. I want to 
 forget it. You do, too. I wish we could 
 make the trees grow again. It is all over. 
 And, if they come for me why, we ll fight, 
 won t we?" 
 
 "Like an army," says I, "defending their 
 last ditch !" 
 
 "Yes, daddy," she laughs and cries, all to 
 gether, "I ve fought, bled, arid nearly died for 
 my country and against my love, haven t I?" 
 
 "Yes," I says. 
 
 "And I ve paid, haven t I?" 
 
 "Yes," 
 
 249
 
 WAR 
 
 "And been foolish?" 
 "Very," says I. 
 
 "I m just Evelyn, hereafter. Not a rebel- 
 not a Union not anything but Evelyn ! Wait 
 ing to be wife to Dave. Nothing more. That s 
 a woman s business. To be a wife mother." 
 
 As you ll notice, she didn t tell me what it 
 meant, and I was a little curious like we all 
 are not? So I didn t tear up the diagram, 
 but showed it to Jon, thinking he might know, 
 telling him that I had found it near Crider s 
 in my watch the night before. 
 
 "Why," says Jonthy, opening his eyes, "this 
 is the signal chart of the Knights of the 
 Golden Circle. They say you can spell out 
 anything with a light. That s the Golden Cir 
 cle. Why, the government will give anything 
 for this!" 
 
 "Well," I says, "the government ain t going 
 to get it. In a minute it ll be tore up." 
 
 "Yes, I guess that s better," nods Jon. "It 
 might make more trouble." 
 
 "Spell this," I says, handing him the other 
 paper.
 
 TANKOO 
 
 Well, by the help of the chart he did it after 
 a time. 
 
 "Mallory caught by Federals. Badly 
 wounded. Will die," is what it read as you 
 can see for yourself. 
 
 Jon grabs my hand. 
 
 "I hate to kill things, daddy, and to gloat 
 over others miseries. But I believe that I am 
 glad Mallory is caught. Now we re shut of 
 him!" 
 
 Poor old Jon! He wouldn t have been so 
 glad if he had known who Mallory was. 
 
 That night I went to the garret again, to 
 watch Ben Crider and a couple of others, at 
 his garret window, making fools of themselves. 
 And I thought how I could get even and have 
 some to spare if I would just get one of the 
 soldiers on duty to come up there with me. 
 But, of course, that might have made trouble 
 for Evelyn. It was so plain that I could read 
 it, almost, myself. They were asking for re 
 ports answers to earlier signals and de 
 manding daily reports. They were clean crazy. 
 From the way they acted and talked, they 
 251
 
 iWAR 
 
 didn t believe that Mallory was hurt. They 
 wanted some proof of it. I had a great mind 
 to try a little foolishness with the light myself, 
 and had already struck a match to light one 
 of the lamps, when I remembered, again, that 
 it would be bad for Evelyn, and put the match 
 out. But after that match their signals got 
 furious. 
 
 The whole thing was well arranged. The 
 trees cut down at our house and those from 
 his made just about enough of an avenue to 
 shine the lights through above the other trees. 
 You had to be in line w r ith em from the outside 
 to see anything and also high up above the 
 trees in the valley and this was almost impos 
 sible. 
 
 I decided to get away and let them alone or 
 else I d do something foolish and hurt Evelyn. 
 I knew that she would do all that was necessary 
 if anything was to shut it off. 
 
 But coming down-stairs, my candle glittered 
 on something shining on the floor at the dark 
 place where the garret stair took off from the 
 252
 
 TANKOO 
 
 stairs to the second story. I bent to look at it 
 and found that it was a drop of dried blood. 
 And then I found others all the way down. 
 
 I went to Evelyn s room and said : 
 
 "Did you climb those stairs and send that 
 message ?" 
 
 "What message ?" laughs she. 
 
 "Mallory caught by Federals. Badly 
 wounded. Will die," repeated I. 
 
 "It wasn t quite true, was it, daddy, was it ? 
 Is that what you re cross about? I m not go 
 ing to die !" 
 
 "No, Evelyn, it s true," says I, "ycm didn t 
 know but you were dying then. I tracked you 
 by the blood." 
 
 "Are you satisfied, daddy?" she begs. "I 
 did the best I could to save us !" 
 
 "You did the best you could, God bless you, 
 girl!" I says, and we both cried together. 
 "You are a brave girl !" 
 
 "I really think, daddy," she sobs, "that I ve 
 saved us don t you ?" 
 
 "Yes," I says. 
 
 253
 
 WAR 
 
 I had meant to tell her about those furious 
 messages flying above, but she looked so pit 
 eous that I thought it might worry her, and so 
 I didn t.
 
 XXVII 
 
 HIS SHARE OF GLORY 
 
 9> 
 
 THE editor not only got his hundred 
 men but twenty over in case any should 
 back out or to begin a new company. And 
 it was off to war for certain. I think those 
 words of his sunk in. It was just in the lull 
 when everybody, North and South, was tired 
 of the war and when a hard push either way 
 would win. And from the spirit of the men 
 who enlisted, they were of the opinion that the 
 war had lasted long enough, and it was time 
 to give the push from the North. 
 
 It wasn t so bad as long as they played sol 
 dier in zouave uniforms and shiny arms. But 
 when bread and coffee and meat had almost 
 disappeared, when paper money was worth 
 twice itself, when nobody was doing anything 
 
 255
 
 WAR 
 
 but fight, when the farms were lying idle and 
 barns tumbling down 
 
 And then we began to know that much 
 more of that would ruin the country beyond 
 repair so s any other country which was 
 fool enough to want it could step in and take 
 it and us with it ! The Johnies were fighting 
 harder than we thought they would to get away 
 from us, and we were fighting harder than 
 they thought we would to keep them with us 
 just because they had proved such fine fel 
 lows. Well, it was like a fight between two 
 boys which one jokes about until the noses 
 bleed and the eyes are bunged shut. Then it s 
 got to stop. It s serious. But just then the 
 boys fight the hardest, and the blindest just 
 about the time they got to stop on account of 
 being played out. 
 
 I met Kratz, the editor, on the street, and I 
 didn t know him! He was in a zouave uni 
 form and wore a sword a. yard long. Second 
 lieutenant ! 
 
 256
 
 HIS SHARE OF GLORY 
 
 "Halt !" he yells at me, as happy as a baby ! 
 "Vonner, your uniform all of them will be 
 ready the day after to-morrow. We drill twice 
 a day after that. Center Square. Be on hand 
 or I ll send a guard after you. Oh, man, don t 
 you see the victory already ? Why, a year ago 
 I^would no more have thought of getting a 
 hundred men out of Excelsior for the Union 
 army than I would have thought of flying. 
 Well, don t you see what that means? The 
 South has used up all they have. Poor chaps ! 
 Not another man can they get into the army. 
 Lord, haven t they fought! While the North 
 is just waking up. Don t lag. Let s go and 
 end it. Let us get our share of the glory be 
 fore it is too late. Let us help to force a 
 peace ! We want all those bully boys south of 
 Mason and Dixon s line back again in our bed. 
 They re too good to lose." 
 
 Well, do you think he got his share of the 
 glory? There s a tombstone in Gethsemane 
 burying-ground with this on : 
 257
 
 WAR 
 
 JACOB KRATZ 
 
 SECOND LIEUTENANT AND 
 
 ORGANIZER OF COMPANY "K", 
 
 STH REGT. MD. VOLS., 
 
 KILLED AT 
 CHANCELLORSVILLE. 
 
 But the stone has fallen on its face, and, 
 though I lifted it up the other day, I could 
 hardly make out the words. I asked a young 
 man passing by if Jacob Kratz had lived in 
 Excelsior. 
 
 "Never heard of him and I ve been right 
 here all my life!" he answered. 
 
 "Who s paying for the uniforms and so on?" 
 asks I of Kratz. 
 
 "I am," says he. "You think I m too poor? 
 Well, I am. But I ve sold the paper to Gor 
 man. If we lose, I shan t want it. I ll emi 
 grate. If we win I ll start a new one three 
 times as big! Yes, I will. I ll set the type and 
 pull the press, and carry it around to the sub 
 scribers myself. And glad to do it. Yes, if we 
 258
 
 HIS SHARE OF GLORY 
 
 can save this glorious Union, a government 
 better than any ever conceived in this world 
 before, bring our Southern brothers back into 
 it, I ll give all I have and get more to give!" 
 
 Ah, the foolishness! 
 
 But I saw that red-headed idiot at Chancel- 
 lorsville on that hot Sunday morning go into 
 the smoke with a crazy yell, too, not knowing 
 what was before him. When I saw him again, 
 he was in a lead-lined box, with that yell still 
 on his lips, that light still in his face. And I 
 thought then of what he had said about the 
 glorious Union. He believed it. He died for 
 it ! It must be so ! By the Lord God, it is so !
 
 XXVIII 
 
 WHERE OUR CLUB MET 
 
 WELL, that s what I told the boys that 
 she got sick working on her wedding 
 things, and her hair fell out so s I had to cut 
 it off for her to save it. 
 
 "What s that?" says Dave, nearly breaking 
 me in two. 
 
 "She s going to be married/ says I. "If 
 it s not to either or both of you boys you d bet 
 ter be looking after your property." 
 
 Jon, you remember his idea about it, he un 
 derstood, and smiled and nodded, like he knew 
 all about it from the first. 
 
 But Dave was puzzled a bit. 
 
 "I expect I better go and congratulate my 
 self," he says. "It may be one of the things 
 daddy thinks funny. And yet it may be a wed- 
 260
 
 ding in our own family. Come, Jonthy, and 
 chaperon me." 
 
 And he drags Jon after him straight to the 
 door. 
 
 There, he knocks softly a bit, then he says: 
 
 "Evelyn, if you are not asleep and hear me, 
 beready, in two minutes, by the watch. Jonthy 
 and I are coming in to see what daddy is lying 
 about." 
 
 I had followed, sure that there d be trouble, 
 but what do you think! She laughed, happy 
 as happy, and says : 
 
 "Why waste two whole minutes!" 
 
 Dave gave a yell, and in he went. In fact 
 the yell carried him as far as the bed, where 
 he hugs her and the first thing you know 
 she s fainted like a rag in his arms. 
 
 I never saw Dave really scared before 
 scared so he shivered, and chattered his teeth. 
 
 But she brought herself to, in a minute, and 
 put Dave s arms away a bit. 
 
 "It hurts a little there," she smiles, white 
 as a sheet. 
 
 261
 
 WAR 
 
 "What s the matter?" begs Dave. "You 
 look like a ghost and faint dead away the 
 moment I touch you. Daddy ! What is it ?" 
 
 He turns on me like he was going to hit me. 
 But Jonthy stops him and holds his hands a 
 minute. 
 
 While they were all turned from her, before 
 any one notices her hair, Evelyn reaches under 
 the pillow and gets the most beautiful night 
 cap you ever saw all pink ribbons and lace, 
 and jams it on her head. She winks at me, 
 and I knew that that settled the difficulty about 
 the hair. 
 
 "Now, gentlemen," says Evelyn, "if you ll 
 handle me a bit more carefully, I m ready to 
 entertain you." 
 
 "Is it so the wedding?" asks Dave, making 
 like he would lift her out of bed. 
 
 Evelyn nods and says : 
 
 "Yes. Do you like it?" 
 
 "Better than heaven!" says Dave, barely 
 holding himself back. 
 
 262
 
 WHERE OUR CLUB MET 
 
 "Take care of my sore spot!" says Evelyn. 
 "I can answer that question of yours now 
 When? " 
 
 "Hurry !" says Dave. 
 
 "In a few days. Just as soon as I can 
 stand on my feet. I won t be married in bed." 
 *" "Thank you," says Dave, solemn. 
 
 "You look scared," laughs Evelyn. 
 
 "Yes," says Dave then, "I m scared scared 
 half to death ! Look at Evelyn, Jon ! How 
 pale! Is she dying?" 
 
 "I have been looking," says Jon, more 
 scared than Dave. "Don t you think the best 
 thing the one thing we can ask Evelyn is 
 to tell us, honestly, whether or not she is seri 
 ously ill, and whether she is sure she will get 
 well?" 
 
 "Yes," says Dave. "For God s sake, Eve 
 lyn, tell us that and we ll be satisfied." 
 
 "Did you ever see me happier?" asks Evelyn. 
 
 "No!" says Jon and Dave at once. 
 
 "Are people happy who think they are sick 
 263
 
 WAR 
 
 enough to die and go away from daddy and 
 Jon and Dave or even be sick enough to be 
 kept away from them a little while ?" 
 
 "No !" says both my boys again. 
 
 "Then come here, both of you, all three of 
 you ! I want to tell you something." 
 
 We all sat as close to her on the bed as we 
 could, and she sort of got her arms around all 
 of us. 
 
 "Don t you know that a girl s wedding day 
 a girl who marries the one man in the world 
 she can marry is the maddest, darlingest, 
 craziest day in all her life? Oh, it s a won 
 der they don t all go mad die before it 
 arrives as as I have done ! She is a miser 
 gloating, not over sordid coins, but gos 
 samer clothing! She is a pirate begging, 
 buying, stealing the most beautiful gems in 
 the world to adorn herself for him! She 
 is a priestess, a nun, a devotee, praying, pray 
 ing always for his and her and their happiness ! 
 She is already a wife knowing, understand 
 ing, what it is to be bone of another s bone, 
 264
 
 WHERE OUR CLUB MET 
 
 flesh of another s flesh! Oh, my dears, all a 
 girl s life leads to and from that day. When 
 we are old everything happens such and such 
 a time after our wedding. When we are young 
 every date is subordinate to When I am mar 
 ried. Don t you wish you were all girls, 
 working on your wedding gear, even though 
 you sicken and die for it? Don t you wish 
 you were ready to melt into some man s arms 
 and be lost lost forever? Have no name but 
 his! Be nothing apart from him! Live only 
 in his life, die when he dies !" 
 
 For a while no one spoke. Then Jon says, 
 soft as praying : 
 
 "Yes. I wish I were a woman. There is 
 nothing on the earth so beautiful!" 
 
 Now, what do you think of that! A man 
 wishing he was a woman ! 
 
 "Jonathan," I says, "don t be foolish. There 
 must be men and women. Be glad to be what 
 you are." 
 
 And, it was about the first time I ever knew 
 Dave to be speechless. He didn t say a word. 
 265
 
 WAR 
 
 Just put his lips down on Evelyn s, slow and 
 soft, and let them stay there a long time. 
 After all, I suppose he wasn t as speechless as 
 I thought I expect he said more than either 
 Jon or me. 
 
 And so the three of us sat on her bed and 
 had the happiest night that I remember. 
 
 And so it was every night. None of us ever 
 knew each other right till then. Evelyn s bed 
 was our little club. At last we ate our meals 
 there, told the news there, and, in fact, spent 
 nearly all of our time there. 
 
 And then one day, when no one was think 
 ing of it, who walks in to the breakfast table, 
 one morning, when we thought it too early to 
 wake her, but Evelyn. And of all her loveli 
 ness, she never looked so lovely as then ! She 
 was excited by the exercise, for it was far too 
 soon for that sort of thing, and the roses in 
 her cheeks fairly flamed against their thinness 
 and paleness, and her head was covered with 
 short curls! She was in the prettiest of her 
 dresses, one of rose-color, with a long train, 
 266
 
 WHERE OUR CLUB MET 
 
 and loose, and it was no wonder that Dave 
 flew at her and that she had to remind him, 
 laughing, that it still hurt a little where he was 
 in the habit of putting his arms. 
 
 Dave put her in her seat as carefully as if 
 she were china, and says : 
 
 * "And now, once more, when? To-day? 
 You said as soon as you could stand on your 
 feet don t bother about clothes they are bad 
 for you !" 
 
 "Yes," smiles Evelyn, "to-day, if you 
 wish " 
 
 She looks around at Jon and me 
 
 " To-day if it suits us all " 
 
 Jon turns pale. After all, I suppose, to 
 stand up suddenly and see them married 
 phased him a bit. 
 
 Then Dave, the happy, laughing, singing, 
 dancing Dave, says: 
 
 "Daddy, you have Preacher Kellermann here 
 
 by eleven o clock, and wear your stovepipe; 
 
 and Jonathan, you comb your hair and wash 
 
 your face and be the best man as you are, 
 
 267
 
 WAR 
 
 anyhow and Betsy ll give the bride away, and 
 some pies though, as she s given herself away 
 already, I don t see why Betsy should work. 
 But we ll have it all according to law. Any 
 how, the rest don t matter if old Kellermann 
 gets here. And everybody be joyous and don t 
 touch Evelyn s sore spot!" 
 
 We all laughed and were happy. And Dave 
 surrounded Evelyn like a cloud. 
 
 At about this moment a strange man pushes 
 open the door, without even knocking, and, 
 making signs with his hands, says : 
 
 "Who s sick here? Wounded? What man 
 of you s dying?" 
 
 "No one !" yells Dave, laughing, and happy. 
 "Who the devil are you? Don t you know 
 there s a wedding going on, not a funeral? 
 Behave." 
 
 He doesn t answer, but looks us over like he 
 was counting us, sees the happiness, makes 
 signs which no one understands, but which 
 looks like the Knight s chart, then turns away. 
 We were going to follow him, when a soft 
 268
 
 WHERE OUR CLUB MET 
 
 sound made us all turn. Evelyn was just 
 crumpling to the floor in a faint. 
 
 "Of course!" cries Dave. "It s our fault 
 to let her come down as weak as this! And 
 then have this fool come in and frighten her!" 
 He would have killed the man if he hadn t got 
 put quick. 
 
 We carries her back to bed. 
 
 "Daddy," she says, when we were alone, 
 "they are still after Mallory. They think he is 
 well again or never has been sick, or has lied 
 or deserted. Once a spy, always a spy or you 
 are shot. And there s no tapestry to weave 
 and unweave now ! I thought it was all over ! 
 But it must be done again, I expect. You must 
 help me, daddy, dear. I m too sick to do it 
 alone this time." 
 
 "The wedding will stop all that," I said. 
 
 "Ah, the wedding," she sighed. "Dave must 
 know now. And, when he knows, do you 
 think there will be a wedding?" 
 
 "Why not?" says I. 
 
 "Why not? Would you marry me, daddy, 
 269
 
 WAR 
 
 if you were Dave, remembering what you 
 know and he doesn t?" 
 
 Well, that kind of gets me. I really hadn t 
 thought about it that way. 
 
 "We said the other day that we would do 
 it," Evelyn goes on, "when we were all happy 
 and thoughtless. But we all know that Dave 
 must understand." 
 
 I said nothing. I couldn t. And I suppose 
 that hurt Evelyn s feelings a little. 
 
 "Tell him very gently and sweetly," she says 
 then, "that it can not be yet. Say that I am 
 too ill." 
 
 And, after a while: 
 
 "Perhaps you had better tell him all. It 
 will have to be done some time. I mustn t 
 let him marry me under false pretenses." 
 
 But I couldn t make up my mind to cause all 
 that unhappiness just yet. I waited, hoping 
 that something would happen to make it unnec 
 essary. And Evelyn slowly got her courage 
 back but not like the night she was shot. She 
 never got that back.
 
 XXIX 
 
 THE LAST DAY 
 
 WELL, Kratz had certainly kept us busy 
 drilling and parading, and electing of 
 ficers as fast as they backed out, and getting 
 uniforms made, and hearing speeches, till it 
 seemed like there were no rebels about any 
 more. I suppose another company could have 
 been raised easy after they saw us drill and 
 parade in our uniforms. 
 
 What the people that was left seemed to 
 want now was everything that was Union. 
 
 And everybody who wasn t going to fight 
 was just crazy for us to hurry right on to Rich 
 mond and end the war and reduce the cost of 
 pork. But I must say, for one, that I wasn t 
 as crazy to take Richmond as I had been. We 
 knew now that it was dangerous. But I don t 
 back out of a game, once I am in it. 
 271
 
 WAR 
 
 We had it all arranged that Dave and the 
 hireland, with a little help from Betsy, could 
 keep the farm on top of the earth for the little 
 time Jon and I would be away. 
 
 We had an idea that when we got to fighting 
 the war would be a matter of months. 
 
 And so came the last day before we moved. 
 Dave was as gay as ever, and still thought of 
 it as a picnic. He made a kind of farewell 
 address to Jon and me from him and Evelyn. 
 There was both poetry and Scripture in it. 
 Then he talked in a funny way about the red 
 roses Evelyn wore in her cheeks called them 
 Lancaster roses and gave Jon and me a bunch 
 of white ones out of the ones that Evelyn wore 
 which he called York roses. I didn t know 
 much about that business of York and Lan 
 caster roses, except that it had nothing to do 
 with those towns over in Pennsylvania, but 
 some old-time business off in England. Yet, 
 under it all, I saw that Dave was sorry for 
 us, and was just trying to keep up and keep us 
 all up on account of Evelyn, I expect. We 
 272
 
 THE LAST DAY 
 
 were in our full uniforms, for the first time, 
 account Dave made us, and even wore our 
 arms to supper! Dave made us stand up to 
 gether now and then to look at us. And I 
 begun to think he was crazy to be inside of a 
 uniform himself. 
 
 Look mighty glorious, don t they, Evelyn?" 
 asks Dave. 
 
 "Yi yes," says Evelyn, choking on some 
 bread. 
 
 "Especially old Jon. Say, Jon, you been 
 fooling us all the time. You weren t no farmer 
 nor no student nor no preacher. You ve been 
 a soldier all the time ! And now you re telling 
 us the truth. By God, you ll give a good ac 
 count of yourself down there!" 
 
 Well! Dave used all kinds of strange lan 
 guages, but that s the very first time I ever 
 heard him swear. We all jumped up, and, I 
 think, we all got white. Evelyn looked like a 
 ghost. 
 
 "Davy," says I, "don t you be worked up 
 about Jon s patriotism. He s going on account 
 273
 
 WAR 
 
 of a small aching void. And as soon as that s 
 all filled up he ll be back." 
 
 Jon nearly kicked my shin off. 
 
 "Daddy," says he, "it s not a good time to 
 be joking just before we re going away. 
 Dave knows what I am going for patriot 
 ism." 
 
 "That s right, brother," says Dave, in a 
 funny mood, reaching over and taking Jon s 
 hands. "It s a thing I didn t think I owned 
 till to-night. But, by the Lord, if it wasn t too 
 late, I d get into a uniform myself. I may yet. 
 It s a great thing to love your country well 
 enought to die for it. God bless the Union for 
 ever ! Hip, hip, hurrah !" 
 
 He begun serious and ended funny as 
 usual. 
 
 "Ah, Dave," says Jon, "you re forgettin 
 something better than your country." 
 
 Neither of them looked toward Evelyn, but 
 both understood, and Dave goes over and 
 touches her, almost as if she were a stranger. 
 
 "Yes," he says, dreamy, "I didn t think there 
 274
 
 THE LAST DAY 
 
 was anything on earth or in heaven could make 
 me forget this and these and this 
 
 He puts his hands through her hair, touches 
 her eyes, and kisses her. But it was plain to 
 see that his thoughts were elsewhere. 
 
 "Isn t it strange," he goes on, "that I never 
 tl^ought of it till now ! I really have had no 
 convictions, rebel or Union, till now. It s 
 good oh, It s sweet and glorious for one s 
 country to die. That s a Latin quotation," he 
 laughs at me. 
 
 I didn t know it then, but I know it now : 
 "0, carlo r et gloria est pro patria mori." 
 Evelyn knew it and found it for us. 
 "Evelyn," says Dave, sitting half on the arm 
 of her chair and half on her, "something in 
 side, here, is drawing me to the army. I know 
 now what has kept the ranks full notwithstand 
 ing the pine boxes we see at the station so 
 often now. They had the good fortune to 
 feel when they enlisted as I do to-night. Don t 
 you think I d better go, dear ? Don t you want 
 to send me? Don t you want a soldier?" 
 275
 
 WAR 
 
 She didn t hesitate a minute. 
 
 "Yes, Dave," she says, "go," shivering. 
 
 But I chimes in : 
 
 "Who d you think is going to take care of 
 her and the farm? If Jon and me d known 
 that you were so crazy to go we d have stayed 
 at home and left you go. Why didn t you 
 speak up sooner? Now you got to stay at 
 home. Evelyn daren t be left alone." 
 
 Evelyn thanks me with her frightened eyes, 
 and Dave lets out a great sigh. 
 
 "All right, daddy," he says, "all right." 
 
 "You ll get over that feeling in your breast. 
 If not before, as soon as the first shell drops 
 behind you. They say that s an awful scare- 
 to be smiling and suddenly have to change your 
 face. Don t try it I ll tell you all about it." 
 
 Dave turns away as if he had forgotten Eve 
 lyn, and she looks after him as if she didn t 
 know what had come over him. 
 
 She seemed, somehow, to have been de 
 serted by all of us ! 
 
 "Jon," says Evelyn, choking, "I want to talk 
 to you!" 
 
 276
 
 THE LAST DAY 
 
 And out she goes to the seat under the plums. 
 
 Jon looks round at us a moment in wonder 
 at it all. Dave goes on : 
 
 "To-night, somehow, when I see you and 
 daddy in your uniforms, ready to be sacrificed 
 that comes close home when your father 
 arid your brother are ready to march to the 
 firing line. I wish to God you hadn t enlisted. 
 I am the one to go. I really have a feeling of 
 hatred for the South to-night for taking you 
 from me. And as you see, I am really the one 
 in the family who has the most pronounced 
 views on the war. Look here, slip off your 
 uniform. We are of about the same size. We 
 look enough alike. They won t know the dif 
 ference. Let me go in your place! Honest! 
 I m fighting-crazy, too. I want to go. I ve 
 got to go !" 
 
 "Dave," I says, nodding after Evelyn, "that 
 hurts her. And what s the use? It s too late. 
 She has trouble of her own. Don t make it 
 worse. She needs protection needs it bad." 
 
 Jon takes Dave, very quiet, by the shoulders, 
 and when he has him eye to eye, he says : 
 277
 
 XXX 
 
 THE SACRIFICE 
 
 WE could hear Evelyn crying and rav 
 ing and Jon s voice, deep and kind 
 and persuading. Up and down, up and 
 down. It had an effect upon Dave. At first 
 he just looked at me not through me with 
 his face between his hands. That was wonder 
 ful, too to see a son of yours who has only 
 laughed, so far, with his first wo in his young 
 face. At last, with a sigh, his eyes left me and 
 saw nothing. But I noticed a slow change in 
 him. His eyes grew wide, his nostrils stiffened, 
 he drew his breath between his teeth. He was 
 at the open window hearing what Jon and 
 Evelyn were saying. For, even I, consid 
 erably further away, could hear a good deal 
 of it, but not enough to make sense which 
 280
 
 THE SACRIFICE 
 
 must have carried to Dave. Finally, as if he 
 understood something for the first time, he 
 swelled up, then relaxed and let his head droop 
 to his arms on the table. Jonathan talked 
 louder and louder, and Evelyn was almost 
 shrieking now. For a while I thought it was 
 ail on account of our going. 
 
 At that time it came to me in small bits 
 which made no sense what they were saying 
 out there. Afterward I understood it well. It 
 is that I tell you now not exactly what dis 
 jointed phrases came to me at the time, but the 
 completed conversation as time and after- 
 events made it. 
 
 They had talked about those past days be 
 tween them before Dave came home, the joy 
 and the sorrow of them. 
 
 Now she was telling had told Jon all 
 all that she had made me swear to keep secret. 
 
 She knew the strange man who had looked 
 
 in the door and the signs he made. He was 
 
 an officer of the Knights. He had seen that 
 
 Dave, who was thought to be Mallory, was not 
 
 281
 
 WAR 
 
 sick, never had been. Dave, himself, had said 
 so. Dave would be thought to have deceived 
 them with the pretense of illness. Mallory 
 must, at once, prove his apparent faithfulness, 
 disappear from here and turn up in Stuart s 
 cavalry or run the risk of the secret silent "ex 
 ecution" the Knights visited upon deserting 
 spies. 
 
 "And, Jon, dear, I am so sick! I shall die 
 on the way. And no one will know it. I 
 shall lie in the woods and rot and never reach 
 Stuart and Dave will still be in danger, for 
 he will still be here, and he, not I, is thought 
 to be Mallory. Nothing I can now say will 
 change that. No one will believe me. They 
 know Mallory only as a man. And it must be 
 to-night. The signs said so. So, you must 
 help me across the line. I can not reach there 
 alone. You can still return in time to join your 
 command if we start now. You know the 
 password. I have my uniform. I ll put it on." 
 
 And she must have started away. 
 
 "Wait wait !" says Jon. "Something must 
 282
 
 THE SACRIFICE 
 
 be thought of done but not that. I am be 
 wildered crazy. I can t think yet. Wait! 
 No not a word to Dave. If he knew he 
 would go oh, yes! go as Mallory. I know 
 Dave ! For that would mend all !" 
 
 "That," says Evelyn, "is why I must go 
 rtbw. Only when I die on the way, as I am 
 sure to do without you, don t you see that I 
 have helped nothing? Mallory will still be here 
 in the person of Dave." 
 
 "I see," says Jon. 
 
 "That is what you must think of if you 
 can t go with me. How my death will can be 
 made to cancel all. Do you think it can ? If 
 you were not going away, too, you could tell 
 them swear that I am Mallory let them find 
 me dead " 
 
 "God !" says Jon. 
 
 "God " repeats Evelyn. "Yes they must 
 find Mallory. But then they d know that I was 
 not he that I I am was " 
 
 "A woman!" says Jon. "They would un 
 cover your body touch it with loathsome 
 283
 
 iWAR 
 
 fingers laugh your dead eyes would be star 
 ing up at them your lips would be smiling 
 your mouth your hair would be fallen 
 damply over your face yes, they would laugh 
 at their mistake and go away and let you lie 
 for the carrion birds and even then Dave 
 would not be saved !" 
 
 "Stop!" shrieks Evelyn. "What s to be 
 done what s to be done? I can not go. I 
 dare not die. Daddy? " she whispers at last 
 very low. 
 
 "No!" thunders Jon. "He deserves least of 
 all to be the sacrifice. He has had least of you. 
 And they wouldn t believe him a traitor." 
 
 "Then who Jon, dear, will go as Lucas 
 Mallory? Some one must for Dave s sake!" 
 
 "I," says Jon. 
 
 "Oh, my poor Jon my poor old Jonthy! 
 To think No, no ! Let me die. It will be best 
 that way." 
 
 "That way," says Jon, as if through his 
 closed teeth, "accomplishes nothing but your 
 death. The trouble is still there. You dare not 
 284
 
 THE SACRIFICE 
 
 die. That much is certain. Mine is the only 
 way." 
 
 There was another silence, and then Jon 
 went on : 
 
 "You will tell them that I am Mallory. 
 That I shall go with my men to the Union 
 ront. Then I shall" 
 
 It was a long time before anything more was 
 said. 
 
 "I have the courage now for the word! 
 Desert! When we are before Stuart I will de 
 sert to him and enlist as Mallory. Tell them 
 so." 
 
 He hurried it all out terribly as if he was 
 afraid he d never get it out otherwise. 
 
 "That is what you must tell them with the 
 code to-night. That I, a Union captain, am 
 leading my men toward the Confederate front 
 so that I can step over to them. That I am 
 that kind of a Union man! God Al 
 mighty! God, God Almighty!" 
 
 "Oh, my poor Jon my poor old Jonthy!" 
 sobbed Evelyn again. 
 
 285
 
 WAR 
 
 "Peace," says Jonathan, more quiet now. "It 
 is decided." 
 
 "Signal to-night yet," says Jon, "the last sig 
 nal, that Lucas Mallory has gone to join Stuart. 
 To look for him there." 
 
 "Yes," says Evelyn, "and after the war is 
 over, soon, soon, then I will not seem so bad. 
 I shall confess in his arms. Some things 
 which are tragic now we shall be able to laugh 
 at then. Then, we ll tell him and I ll take my 
 chances with him but not now. I m too 
 sick. I should die telling him, seeing his eyes 
 flame." 
 
 We could hear her break down in sobbing. 
 And, then, Jon: 
 
 "Kushy, kushy," he half sung, "you are not 
 well enough for such terrible emotions. Kushy, 
 kushy!" 
 
 Then there was pleading and promising 
 about something I couldn t hear. 
 
 "Yes, yes, yes," says Jon, as if he were 
 pronouncing his own death sentence, "that is 
 better my treason than Dave s and your 
 286
 
 THE SACRIFICE 
 
 separation better than that you should die. I 
 have decided. There is no other way. Be at 
 peace." 
 
 Then there was some talk which just missed 
 reaching me, but which, I think, reached Dave. 
 I turned to catch it better; I heard barely 
 lieard old Jon say : 
 
 Then, so it shall be. We will be within 
 touch of the Confederate lines in less than a 
 week. Then ! But, I mean my brother to have 
 what I am buying for him at such a fearful 
 price. Do you understand? Will you play 
 fair now? He must have you!" 
 
 "I understand," says Evelyn. "And I will 
 play fair, hereafter. It won t be long, dear 
 Jon, the war is almost over. Then all will be 
 right. There will be no Unions or rebels or 
 treason only us always together!" 
 
 Then, I am ready to say good-by. I shall 
 probably never look upon your face again. 
 After to-night I shall probably never look upon 
 that of my brother. Let me see you for the last 
 time on earth." 
 
 287
 
 WAR 
 
 Then a silence. 
 
 "My God!" I heard Jon say, and, then 
 again, "my God ! Who would think that you 
 beautiful, wonderful you could be the 
 cause " 
 
 I closed my eyes and could imagine Jon 
 looking into that face which could be so won 
 derful, as he turned it to the moon. 
 
 And, then, suddenly, I turned upon Dave 
 something made me do it and such a Dave I 
 had never seen before. Ach! It s wonderful 
 what an effect the mind has upon the body 
 and so quick !
 
 XXXI 
 
 THE COST WHO PAYS 
 
 9> 
 
 A I have said, I didn t really know what 
 was going on outside. Just a word here 
 and there. When my wits got to work right, 
 afterward, and things happened, I knew it as 
 I have told it. But then I didn t. It was all a 
 confused mass of words. So, I couldn t quite 
 see why Dave should act so queer except that 
 we were all in a strained humor that night 
 nothing was natural. 
 
 He was sitting up straight, now, and looking 
 through me. His face was like a ghost, with 
 his eyes wide and burning in the midst of it. 
 It seemed to me that I had never seen anything 
 so awful as my own son just then. Him we 
 thought of only lately as a baby. Little Dave ! 
 And as he looked, I felt myself becoming spell- 
 289
 
 WAR 
 
 bound, as the brauchs do when they witch 
 craft one. I couldn t open my mouth, nor stir 
 a hand or foot. What do you think of that? 
 And yet it s true. 
 
 I think it must have been ten minutes before 
 I shivered and the sweat poured out and the 
 spell broke. But that was, maybe, because 
 Dave had changed his thoughts. That is the 
 way with a branch. 
 
 "What have you heard?" asks Dave, point 
 ing outward. And I hardly knew his voice. 
 
 "Just a word here and there," answers I. "I 
 don t know whether it s quarreling or loving 
 or hell. I got to put it together first." 
 
 "It s nothing," says Dave, "don t put it to 
 gether and don t think of it again nothing 
 nothing nothing !" 
 
 But he shrieks the last word, and laughs like 
 he s going crazy. 
 
 "Dave, what s up?" I asks him. "You 
 sick? Shall I ride for the doctor?" 
 
 Still nothing but the white face and the flam 
 ing eyes and the hoarse laughter for another 
 ten minutes. We could still hear the two 
 290
 
 THE COST WHO PAYS 
 
 voices outside. But I don t think either of us 
 noticed much what was being said then. 
 
 Then Dave let out a long shivering sigh, still 
 sitting up straight, the tears running down the 
 white face. No laughing now. I was glad for 
 the tears! 
 
 Daddy," says he, "you ought have told me 
 that Jon loved Evelyn before I came you 
 haven t played fair with me, daddy not any 
 of the three of you." 
 
 I tried to lie. 
 
 "It wasn t much between them, Davy," says 
 I. "I don t think it amounted to anything 
 for sure." 
 
 "Ah, yes! If I had only stayed away with 
 my habit of taking things that don t belong 
 to me!" 
 
 He flung out his hands, in agony, toward the 
 plum trees ! 
 
 "Poor old Jonthy! Poor old Jonthy! I 
 wouldn t have taken her from you for all the 
 world ! I didn t know, Jonthy, I didn t know ! 
 I would have cut my own heart out first ! The 
 one great thing in your dear life !" 
 291
 
 WAR 
 
 "Kushy, Davy," says I to him, like when he 
 was a baby. "J on knew you didn t know. 
 And he was glad glad. She was so lovely 
 that he well, he wanted you to have her." 
 
 "Yes! And so did you it has been with 
 Evelyn like everything else since I was born. 
 I was to have her. She was for me ! No mat 
 ter who else wanted her or was hurt ! And she 
 knew! Daddy, she knew and let me do this to 
 Jon! I wish I could understand that! Do you, 
 do you, daddy?" 
 
 "Davy," says I, "although she knew up here, 
 at the head, like all women know when a man s 
 foolish about her, especially when the man has 
 told them, yet she didn t know it down here, at 
 the heart. There was too little of it, especially 
 after you came, when immediately she didn t 
 know anything but you down below. That s it. 
 And it was just as too late then as now. If she 
 had told you, you would have gone away from 
 her. And she loved you. Can you blame her? 
 It was too late after the first minute !" 
 
 "But you knew, daddy, dear, and let it go 
 292
 
 THE COST WHO PAYS 
 
 on day by day ! Ah, you have the same excuse. 
 But Jon! What must Jon think of me! Of 
 course he wouldn t tell !" 
 
 I shook Dave until he listened. 
 
 "How often must I tell you," I yells, "that 
 we all knew that you didn t know !" 
 
 * And was I too worthless to be protected 
 against myself, daddy?" 
 
 "I don t understand that," I said. 
 
 "Ah, well," says Dave, "no matter that. It 
 is the smallest part me. But the cost ! That 
 must be looked after. Who pays? The cost 
 the cost ! Am I to take her and let Jon pay the 
 price?" 
 
 We just stared at each other for a long 
 while. 
 
 "Daddy," yells Dave, "answer. Am I to 
 take the woman and let Jon pay her price ; do 
 what she demands ?" He points out to them. 
 
 "I don t know what you mean, Davy," says 
 I, as kind as possible. "Of course, you got 
 the woman and you ve got to pay whatever 
 there is to pay. I don t know what it i c " 
 293
 
 WAR 
 
 "Yes!" says Dave, "I have got to pay! I 
 took the goods no matter that I got them like 
 a thief in the night I have got to pay for the 
 stolen goods! By the Lord, I will!" 
 
 Then, after a good while, he changed back 
 to the old way. 
 
 "Daddy," he says, very soft, "I ve not been 
 a good son to you. No, no, no ! There is no 
 use in saying that I have been. I see it all in 
 this moment of revelation. I have been pleas 
 ant to you gay laughing happy. But, ah, 
 that is far from making a good son of any one. 
 In fact, when I look back, I am obliged to con 
 fess that I have been no good to any one. I 
 have just crowded every one else aside so that 
 I might go laughing and happy through the 
 world myself. Well, there always comes a day 
 of reckoning for such. Mine is here. I think 
 God means me to even up with the rest of my 
 life. Well, He shall. I am willing. I must 
 be." 
 
 "Why, Davy," says I, "what talk ! You have 
 kept my old heart bright and happy ever since 
 294
 
 THE COST WHO PAYS 
 
 you were born. Ain t that something? And 
 Jon wouldn t be anything without you. Hon 
 est! Jon s like the Siamese twins with you. 
 Yes, Davy, I begun to have fun with you be 
 fore you were a week old. You was such a 
 comical little chap. And you were, really, all 
 I "had to have fun with. Your mother was 
 dead, and Jon was too solemn. Why, Jon was 
 nearly as old then as he is now. Davy, I 
 wouldn t have you changed one jot or tittle. 
 You were a sunbeam in a dark place. You 
 have always been. I know you always will be." 
 
 "A sunbeam, daddy!" says Dave, with the 
 glad light in his eyes once more. 
 
 "Yes, a sunbeam ! I am not afraid to repeat 
 it. A sunbeam! More than one! Don t you 
 be so worked up about ahem us going to 
 war. There s not much danger if you don t 
 fool with the guns more than you have tor 
 We ll get back all right. And, about Evelyn 
 Dave, you marry her. She loves you that s 
 as plain as a haystack. You love her that s 
 as plain as a red barn" trying to be funny. 
 295
 
 .WAR 
 
 Dave got almost gay again, he thought me so 
 funny. 
 
 If I love her 
 
 As she loves me, 
 No knife can cut our love in three! " 
 
 he sings erroneously. 
 
 "That sounds better," says I. "You marry 
 her. She needs it to be tamed. No woman is 
 tamed till she s married. Look at your mother ! 
 Why, she often thanked me for making her 
 meek. And you got a way of taming horses 
 that ll go well with Evelyn. First the spur, 
 then the bit, and, when she s up in the air, the 
 whip hard. That tells em who is master!" 
 
 Just to cheer him up a little more. But it 
 is not much use. Down into the dumps he 
 goes. 
 
 He was quiet again, for a while, and the 
 voices outside died down. Then, all changed, 
 he says : 
 
 "That was nice of you to call me a sun 
 beam, daddy very nice. I ll never forget it. 
 296
 
 THE COST WHO PAYS 
 
 Don t you. A sunbeam in a dark place, you 
 said. A dark place ! I might have been worse, 
 I expect. Do you think it s too late to begin to 
 be better now?" 
 
 "You suit me," I answers, "just as you are 
 and everybody else, I expect. It would spoil 
 y<?u to be better. The world needs just such 
 gay fellows as you, Davy, to counterbalance 
 such as Jon and me." 
 
 "Ah, daddy," says Dave, "you re a flatterer 
 an arrant flatterer! I m afraid you love me. 
 And those we love we never see their faults. 
 We just love em! And, I suppose, that is 
 why love is blind. So that the faults mayn t 
 outweigh the rest." 
 
 He turns a bit toward the voices, which are 
 only a murmur now, as if everything was set 
 tled, and then he repeats : 
 
 "No, we never see the faults of those we 
 love. We just love em! Like a sunbeam in 
 a dark place ! Well, daddy, sunbeams are wel 
 come after bad weather. But how soon we 
 forget that they are all about us when the bad 
 297
 
 .WAR 
 
 Dave got almost gay again, he thought me so 
 funny. 
 
 If I love her 
 
 As she loves me, 
 No knife can cut our love in three! " 
 
 he sings erroneously. 
 
 "That sounds better," says I. "You marry 
 her. She needs it to be tamed. No woman is 
 tamed till she s married. Look at your mother ! 
 Why, she often thanked me for making her 
 meek. And you got a way of taming horses 
 that ll go well with Evelyn. First the spur, 
 then the bit, and, when she s up in the air, the 
 whip hard. That tells em who is master !" 
 
 Just to cheer him up a little more. But it 
 is not much use. Down into the dumps he 
 goes. 
 
 He was quiet again, for a while, and the 
 voices outside died down. Then, all changed, 
 he says : 
 
 "That was nice of you to call me a sun 
 beam, daddy very nice. I ll never forget it. 
 206
 
 THE COST WHO PAYS 
 
 Don t you. A sunbeam in a dark place, you 
 said. A dark place ! I might have been worse, 
 I expect. Do you think it s too late to begin to 
 be better now ?" 
 
 "You suit me," I answers, "just as you are 
 and everybody else, I expect. It would spoil 
 yeu to be better. The world needs just such 
 gay fellows as you, Davy, to counterbalance 
 such as Jon and me." 
 
 "Ah, daddy," says Dave, "you re a flatterer 
 an arrant flatterer! I m afraid you love me. 
 And those we love we never see their faults. 
 We just love em ! And, I suppose, that is 
 why love is blind. So that the faults mayn t 
 outweigh the rest." 
 
 He turns a bit toward the voices, which are 
 only a murmur now, as if everything was set 
 tled, and then he repeats : 
 
 "No, we never see the faults of those we 
 love. We just love em! Like a sunbeam in 
 a dark place ! Well, daddy, sunbeams are wel 
 come after bad weather. But how soon we 
 forget that they are all about us when the bad 
 297
 
 WAR 
 
 weather is over! And so, daddy, dear, for 
 fear that you ll forget that I was a sunbeam 
 once, I am going to do just one good thing 
 the only good thing I have ever done the best 
 thing I have ever done, the first best thing, a 
 thing you won t forget ! Did you ever think 
 that I could make a sacrifice, daddy? Me, 
 Dave?" 
 
 "Well, Davy," says I, "you ve had about 
 everything you asked for, and you haven t paid 
 heavy for it. I suppose it s our fault the way 
 we brought you up. But, I like it that way and 
 I m willing to go on." 
 
 "I never did yet ! I ve never given anything 
 up! Maybe I can t. It s a fearful thing to 
 learn !" he sort of whispers to himself. "But it 
 must it must be rain with sunshine! Tears 
 with smiles. Things won t grow else!" 
 
 "What does tears make grow, I d like to 
 know?" I asks. 
 
 "Ah, daddy! What do tears make grow? 
 Ask me when you see me again and I can tell 
 you that to the last terrible item ! And then 
 298
 
 THE COST WHO PAYS 
 
 oh, daddy, dear, you ll like me better than 
 ever ! Oh, you ll see what tears make grow !" 
 
 It was all hard for me to put together, but 
 I understand, dimly, that this boy, born for joy, 
 was looking out upon sorrow something he 
 had never known and wasn t fitted for. 
 "Davy," I says, "stop the riddles and tell me 
 what you are going to do. The times are out 
 of joint. Don t make things worse." 
 
 "I know and you ll know all in good time, 
 daddy," says Dave, very thoughtful. "The 
 poor rebels poor Johnny rebs sure to get 
 licked and nothing to eat nothing to wear 
 and plenty of fighting there s not much fun 
 in that you must forgive a poor Johnny 
 reb!" 
 
 "Not on your life!" says I, hard as iron. "I ll 
 not forgive any rebel. This old roof won t 
 harbor none. Every timber in it was cut on 
 free soil with free white hands. Every nail in 
 it means Union. And all of em together 
 means f E Pluribus Unum! Any rebel s got to 
 get from under mighty quick." 
 299
 
 WAR 
 
 "But, suppose he was pressed in?" asks 
 Dave. "Every day there are men pressed into 
 the army from this neighborhood, some of 
 them almost as good as we are. Suppose he 
 couldn t help it ?" 
 
 "Davy," says I, "you been away and you 
 don t know the news. There s no one pressed 
 in nowadays." 
 
 "Yes, there is, daddy," answers Dave, nice 
 and soft. 
 
 "Well, then," says I, a little angry, "I expect 
 it s me that don t know the news. I haven t 
 heard of it hereabouts. Anyhow, this house re 
 fused to shelter Tories in the Revolution, but 
 opened all its doors and windows to General 
 George Washington; and do you think I ll 
 allow the same walls to hide a rebel?" 
 
 "General George Washington was a rebel 
 himself," says Dave, solemn as an owl. 
 
 Which, when you come to think of it, is cer 
 tainly true. 
 
 "Well," I says, a little confused, "that was 
 different. A rebel who succeeds in his rebellion 
 it not a rebel. These rebels won t. Washing- 
 300
 
 THE COST WHO PAYS 
 
 ton fought for freedom. They are fighting for 
 slavery. How do you expect em to win?" 
 
 "Anyhow, daddy, if you had to have a 
 rebel," says Dave, "you d rather have him in 
 a butternut uniform than a blue one?" 
 
 "Why, of course," says I, "a rebel in a 
 ynion uniform is well, you know what he 
 is. We shoot em on sight." 
 
 "Don t they if it s the other way with the 
 uniform?" asks Dave. 
 
 "I expect they do," says I, "though we don t 
 hear much of their doings." 
 
 For a while Dave just sits there and smiles. 
 Then he says in that soft way he had : 
 
 "There is Evelyn under this Union roof !" 
 
 "Oh," says I, "she s a woman and don t 
 count except fool-talk that gets others crazy ! 
 Is that what you re thinking of?" 
 
 "But, daddy, the roof will always give her 
 shelter?" 
 
 "Why, of course," says I. "And a spanking 
 now and then !" 
 
 We smiled together, and then Dave s eyes 
 fell out of mine. 
 
 301
 
 WAR 
 
 After some silence he says : 
 
 "Daddy, you ought to have told me !" 
 
 "Told you what?" I asks. 
 
 "That Jon loved" 
 
 "That again !" 
 
 He sees me flare up and comes and puts his 
 hand over my mouth, getting on his feet like 
 an old man. 
 
 "Sh! Sh! It s not too late to make things 
 right some of them. Daddy, I m sleepy! 
 Don t wake me. Let me lie as late as I want. 
 And tired yes, actually tired ! I ve done noth 
 ing but loaf all my life yet I m tired. I never 
 was so tired since I was born. Now, what do 
 you think of that! Well good-by, daddy." 
 
 "Good-by? You mean good night, not?" 
 
 Dave laughs and says : 
 
 "I m thinking of morning to-night." 
 
 "Yes, that s so," says I, with a feeling in my 
 breast. "We got to go to-morrow ! And early !" 
 
 He didn t seem to be thinking of that. 
 
 "It is good to sleep when you are tired so 
 very tired! Mother! I m thinking of my 
 302
 
 THE COST WHO PAYS 
 
 mother to-night! I never knew her, did I, 
 
 daddy?" 
 
 "No," says I, choking up. "But Jon did." 
 "Yet I know, too, what she was I know all 
 
 about her to-night for the first time. Now, isn t 
 
 that queer? And I m glad. There are only a 
 
 few women of whom we can say that, daddy, 
 * 
 dear. Well, it s hard, but good-by!" 
 
 He had reached the stairs, and standing on 
 them, flung me a kiss, like girls do to each 
 other, half gay, half sad. He looked sorrow 
 fully down at me a long time, then flung an 
 other. I can see him now as I close my old 
 eyes ! Handsome as young David in the Bible, 
 with things written in his face I had never 
 seen there before. And a strange thought 
 came into my head for no especial reason 
 for, I have admitted my dullness Evelyn. He 
 had said to her that day he came home, that she 
 might teach him what sorrow was. I wondered 
 if it was beginning now. Whether she was 
 concerned in my son s strange mood. 
 
 "Davy," I says, as pleading as I could, just 
 
 303
 
 WAR 
 
 as when he was three years old, "tell your anx 
 ious old daddy what s the matter what are 
 you going to do ?" and held out my arms so. 
 
 My Dave smiled, almost as of old, hesitated 
 a little, then came down and we put our arms 
 about each other and hugged, just like when he 
 was a little boy. And we talked nearly as we 
 used to talk then baby talk! 
 
 "I love you, daddy," Dave said, and rubbed 
 his soft cheek close against mine impulsive 
 like. 
 
 "I love you more, Davy," I said. 
 
 "You can t prove it," laughs Dave. "I can." 
 
 "Let s see your proof," says I. 
 
 "In the morning," says he. "And, then, tell 
 Jon about to-night. For, we both love him 
 more! I ll prove it in the morning." 
 
 We just held each other a while, and looked 
 into each other s eyes. He had scared me. 
 
 "Davy," I says, "when you were little and 
 we talked baby talk, you told me everything. 
 Don t have a secret from me now. Why are 
 you so strange ? What are you going to do ?" 
 34
 
 THE COST WHO PAYS 
 
 He whispers in my ear : 
 
 "I m going without Evelyn leaving her to 
 Jon!" 
 
 "Going where?" 
 
 "To bed." 
 
 "Oh!" I says, thinking at last, I sees it all. 
 "Well, that s nice of you, Davy. You ll have 
 her all your life. This is Jon s last night with 
 her. It might be their last night on earth to 
 gether !" 
 
 "Stop it!" Dave shrieks, and closes my 
 mouth. But then, soon, he smiles again. 
 "Daddy, we both feel just like I was little again 
 to-night. Let s kiss each other like we used 
 to then !" 
 
 And we did holding each other s hands a 
 long time. Then Dave starts up the stairs 
 again. He stopped two or three steps up and 
 sang me a little song quite like the old Dave : 
 
 " Tis many days since I left home, 
 To join the gallant army 
 I thought but of my country s cause 
 And the girl I left behind me ! 
 
 305
 
 WAR 
 
 He flung me another kisi, then two or three 
 in a bunch, and went away, up the stair, like a 
 man of eighty. 
 
 He had put but a few steps between us. But 
 it seemed, even then, like an eternal parting.
 
 XXXII 
 
 ON DAVE S BED 
 
 0> 
 k 
 
 WHEN Jon came in we held a con 
 sultation of war and decided that we 
 wouldn t disturb Dave. For the first time in 
 his life Jon seemed glad not to have Dave 
 about. And he had a wild look about the eyes 
 that I had never seen on Jon. 
 
 He went out and told Evelyn not to wait 
 for Dave, that he had gone to bed. 
 
 "Yi you didn t tell him?" I heard her 
 shriek, "You didn t? He didn t guess it?" 
 
 "He had gone some time before I went in," 
 Jon said. "Come ! We will meet in the morn 
 ing! Come." 
 
 Jon dragged her in and she flew off to bed 
 like a troubled spirit. 
 
 "Come, Jonthy," says I, "let s sleep if we 
 
 307
 
 WAR 
 
 can. Seems to me that we re all crazy in one 
 way or another, to-night." 
 
 "Well, daddy," says Jon, with his patient 
 smile, putting his arm over my shoulders and 
 leading me off, "we are all suffering from to 
 morrow !" 
 
 And then the wildness all went out of his 
 eyes. 
 
 "Daddy," says Jon, "could you hear us out 
 there?" He motions toward the trees. "Some 
 times we both forgot and talked pretty loud." 
 
 "I heard a great deal, Jonthy," I says, "but 
 I can t figure out what it was yet." 
 
 And I didn t as I have said, much of what 
 I have told you here until long, long after 
 ward. I suppose I have told you more or less 
 as it should run. But that is bad and you 
 must fix it for yourself a bit. It took years of 
 thinking and happening for some of the things 
 to become plain. And the places where things 
 fit in now and make all clear, were vacant then, 
 and nothing was clear. 
 
 308
 
 ON DAVE S BED 
 
 Jon seemed relieved by what I said, and 
 he asks, also : 
 
 "Did Dave hear anything?" 
 
 "Not much more than I did ; his ears are no 
 better than mine, I expect," I answers. 
 "Though he behaved funny, and, as you see, 
 went off to bed without saying good night to 
 you and Evelyn. But he s so sorry about us 
 going to war. He was at the open window." 
 
 Jon is scared a bit about that and asks: 
 
 "Are you sure sure he went to Toed?" 
 
 "Sure," says I. 
 
 "What did he say?" asks Jon, still more 
 scared and more and more as he went on. 
 
 I told him. 
 
 "Why, don t you see don t you see what 
 that means?" yells Jonathan. "He heard 
 heard all." 
 
 "No, I don t," says I and I didn t then. 
 
 "Come!" he says, rushing up the stairs, "I 
 want to see whether he s in bed. I must !" 
 
 It was strange that Jon, when we reached 
 309
 
 Dave s door, stopped first to listen whether he 
 was sleeping just like when he was a baby 
 and didn t listen at Evelyn s like he use to. 
 Do you suppose that he didn t like her any 
 more? 
 
 But he wasn t satisfied with what he heard 
 or didn t hear at Dave s door. He beckoned 
 me to listen, too. I had done that often; but 
 I heard nothing now. 
 
 "He s not there!" says Jon, kind of crazy. 
 "He s gone South." 
 
 "Dave, are you asleep?" I whispers. "Are 
 you asleep?" 
 
 "Sure! Tight!" laughs Dave. "Go to bed, 
 you loafers !" 
 
 But Jon burst the door open like mad and 
 stood breathless in the room, looking all about 
 for something he didn t see, as if he were fac 
 ing something awful. 
 
 "I thought at first you weren t here " he 
 gasps. 
 
 But Dave only laughs and pulls us both down 
 on his bed. 
 
 310
 
 ON DAVE S BED 
 
 I suppose you have seen the bedroom of 
 some such shustle as our Dave. Everything on 
 the floor so s you had to step careful not to 
 damage collars and cuffs and so on. 
 
 Well, Jon looks all about among these things, 
 like he was hunting for some sign, though he 
 had seen Dave s things there many a time. 
 Anyhow, he didn t find what he was looking 
 for, and he seemed glad of it. 
 
 "Dave," he says, "why did you go off to 
 bed without saying good night to Evelyn?" 
 
 "Jealous," laughs Dave. "You re rather 
 nice, Jonthy." 
 
 "Honest?" asks Jon, kind of glad. 
 
 "Well, wouldn t you go off to bed in a huff 
 if I d had your girl out under the trees for a 
 couple of hours?" says Dave. 
 
 "Yes yes, I expect I would," says Jon soft 
 and nice. "But it was necessary some things 
 about the farm had to be arranged before our 
 going away." 
 
 "I forgive you," laughs Dave. "But don t 
 do it no more. You re mighty nice, Jonthy." 
 
 3 11
 
 WAR 
 
 "I won t," says Jon, solemn. "And will you 
 make it up with Evelyn the first thing in the 
 morning?" 
 
 "Depends on who s up first," says Dave. 
 "Maybe she ll make it up with me." 
 
 "Yes yes, of course," says Jon, absent- 
 minded. "Dave, you ll marry her soon?" 
 
 "Jon, it s the lady fixes the day," says Dave. 
 "I have tried to do it " 
 
 "But, you ll stay right here she ll fix the 
 day no matter married or not and see that 
 Evelyn and the old farm are taken care of. I 
 don t think daddy and I will be away over a 
 couple of weeks. The war is about ended." 
 
 "Look here," says Dave, "if you don t want 
 any sleep, I do. It would please me very much 
 to give you both an affectionate good night! 
 To-morrow s going to be an awful day." 
 
 "Yes," says Jon but he didn t move. Just 
 sat there fascinated like a snake, never taking 
 his eyes off of Dave. Dave did all the talking 
 or rather laughing making game of the 
 war and soldier business. 
 312
 
 ON DAVE S BED 
 
 At last he says : 
 
 "Now, good-by, and off to bed with you. 
 The war s over. I ll see you both back here in 
 a week. Unless you get a telegram to-morrow 
 to stay at home." 
 
 But, when we want to say good-by Dave re- 
 f ifses and says : 
 
 "In the morning in the morning! Don t 
 forget! In the morning. It s night now. Re 
 member the morning! And, daddy, you tell 
 Jonthy about the sunbeam ! In the morning." 
 
 So, laughing, he pushes us out of the door. 
 
 Just as it closed on tis I thought I heard that 
 agony of Dave s as I had heard it down-stairs. 
 
 And Jon must have heard it, too or 
 thought so. For he turns and grabs the knob 
 to go in again. But just then the key turns 
 and we hears Dave laugh. 
 
 "Now, go along, will you?" 
 
 And we did Jon saying: 
 
 "It s hard on Dave for us to go. Harder 
 than on us."
 
 XXXIII 
 
 TO THE FRONT 
 
 THE next morning we got up early, Jon 
 and I, and decided not to disturb Dave 
 and Evelyn. It was too hard on em. But we 
 listened again at Dave s door. Jon said he 
 heard breathing. I didn t. In fact, I thought 
 Jon mistook the breathing of Evelyn, next 
 door, for that of Dave. He said he didn t hear 
 that. 
 
 And soon everything was the war we were 
 going to ! 
 
 It looked really like war on the Square when 
 we were assembled that is, what I thought up 
 to that time war was. There were new uni 
 forms, glittering swords and bayonets, and 
 enough gold lace to sink a ship. I suppose even 
 the privates might have had as much gold lace 
 as they could pay for. As for the officers
 
 TO THE FRONT 
 
 they looked like the sun, moon and stars, all 
 mixed together. And, you know, Jonathan 
 was captain ! How handsome he looked ! He 
 wore yeller leggins, red baggy britches, a little 
 blue jacket with the gold all over it, a red cap 
 with a long white tassel, and a red flannel shirt 
 aft embroidered. He carried his sword in a big 
 white sash around his waist. 
 
 Most of the uniforms was made by the zou 
 aves sweethearts and had everything but ruffles 
 on em. But we hadn t had the courage to ask 
 Evelyn to make ours she was busy enough 
 with her own clothes. 
 
 Well, we all stood up in two ranks, that way 
 straight as a tape line ! Jon was out in front, 
 with me and Kratz and three or four lieuten 
 ants, and so on. The privates was mighty 
 lonely, sometimes, amongst all us officers, I 
 expect. They were a good deal scared that 
 they might call some one sergeant who was 
 lieutenant and get court-martialed and shot. 
 But they were careful and it never occurred. 
 
 Yes, it looked like war that morning! At 
 315
 
 least, more like it than anything I had seen up 
 to that time. They were, mostly, youngsters 
 with savage apple-cheek faces, thinking it all 
 a grand picnic. And yet, God help us, I have 
 seen some of those apple-cheeked boys come 
 home with long whiskers and hair, pale and 
 thin, on three legs, two of them wooden. And 
 some I have seen come home to the Dead 
 March. Some haven t come yet ! 
 
 There is a poor old widow down the road 
 here, whose only son, just cut from her apron 
 string, stood beside me that Sunday morning 
 at Chancellorsville, looking and behaving like 
 a play soldier just a red-cheeked, tow-headed 
 chap, so high! She had told me to watch out 
 for him and bring him back to her, that he 
 was all she had to offer to Father Abraham. 
 He was captain by then for gallantry. Not 
 in zouave uniform, but a faded one that might 
 be any color. Well, the artillery opened and 
 we were ordered forward. He went in at the 
 head of his men, his little blue cap on the point 
 of his sword, yelling like a young demon. The 
 316
 
 TO THE FRONT 
 
 smoke of the cannons covered him from my 
 sight and I haven t seen him since. The poor 
 old widow has his picture in the zouave uni 
 form always by her. 
 
 It s a grown-up baby long yellow curls, 
 dimples, that smile the photographer puts on 
 yeu, leaning on the back of a carved chair, with 
 one leg across the other, his gun in the hollow 
 of his arm, his red cap on the back of his head, 
 as if he didn t care how soon they called on him 
 to march to Richmond and put a stop to the 
 war. This picture is all painted and it looks 
 like a pretty toy soldier. I m afraid to touch 
 it when she shows it to me for fear I ll rumple 
 him. Well, that morning at Chancellorsville 
 he had a beard of yellow whiskers half a yard 
 long, hiding the dimples, and all he had on 
 wouldn t have made the ragman any richer. 
 And, every now and then, she still asks me 
 when I think he ll be home ! You see, I was his 
 keeper because I was older and wiser! But I 
 suppose he was really wiser than I was. Come 
 home ! That s the trouble with others. Many ! 
 
 317
 
 WAR 
 
 Come home! It s like a cannon ball in my 
 breast. Why, she don t seem to know, like we 
 do, that it s fifty years ! Nor that, if he should 
 come, he would be an old man. She thinks of 
 him with that baby face and dimples, in that 
 zouave uniform! 
 
 Sometimes I shake my head and say: 
 "Mother, it s a long, long time !" 
 But that doesn t phase her. She answers : 
 "Yes. But he ll come. He s a good boy. 
 He knows I am waiting. He knows he is all 
 I have. So I keep his bed ready made up, and 
 his plate at the table, so that when he comes it 
 will all be as it was everything ready for 
 him." 
 
 Only a little while ago she took to her bed. 
 Then a little interrogation-point came in the 
 dim blue eyes when she asked me. And the 
 form of the question was : 
 
 "Don t you think he ll soon come?" 
 No, I don t. For I saw him disappear close 
 upon the enemy s guns that Sunday morning.
 
 TO THE FRONT 
 
 And it breaks my heart but I tell her yes! 
 For how do I know who, also, wait ? 
 
 Well excuse me! it was a flag presented 
 to the company, and a sword to Jon; both of 
 which he received like a soldier with a few 
 words. I never could think of those men down 
 in Virginia, both Union and Confederate, who 
 made long speeches and "proclamations" as 
 real fighting soldiers. 
 
 "For the flag," says Jon, up on a store box 
 they brought him, "I thank you, friends, more 
 than for the sword. That is our country. I 
 think I speak for every man behind me when 
 I say that we shall do our best to keep it 
 and, when we are through with it, bring it back 
 to you as it goes forth. With this over my 
 head I feel, for the first time, my responsibility. 
 As to this sword I am frank to say that I 
 shudder at thinking of my hand driving it 
 through the living body of a fellow man and 
 turning him into a corpse. I shall honestly try 
 to bring it back unstained with blood. It is 
 319
 
 .WAR 
 
 our brothers we are fighting. In the name of 
 my company, I salute and thank you." 
 
 They didn t quite like that speech. Every 
 one else had talked about hurrying to dye 
 their flags and swords with blood. But here 
 was old Jon telling them that he wanted to keep 
 them from the stain of brothers blood. I 
 know he was thinking of Tankoo. So was I. 
 
 However, there was no time to think much. 
 Jon gave the word to fall in four ranks 
 and that looked so much like going, at last, 
 that the cheering stopped, and after a silent sol 
 emn moment we were swamped by women. 
 Every man had at least one woman hanging on 
 him and crying except just Jon and me. 
 
 The mothers were the most pitiful. Mostly 
 they just held their red-cheeked boys off at 
 arm s length and filled their eyes, as if they 
 knew it might be the last, then hugged em 
 close. 
 
 They couldn t get the women out of the 
 ranks even to get our pictures taken. That s 
 why that funny picture of the company seems 
 all women and no soldiers. 
 320
 
 TO THE FRONT 
 
 In fact, even as far as the train, you could 
 hardly see the soldiers for the women running 
 at the sides. And not all was sad. Some was 
 gay and foolish. But not the sweethearts and 
 wives and sisters and mothers! Mostly them 
 that had no one in the company. 
 
 f pitied Jon, the way he looked toward the 
 farm, and wished that Dave and Evelyn might 
 wake up and miss us and come to give us 
 good-by after all. I had the feeling, too, that 
 maybe, we mightn t get back and I wanted 
 to see Dave and Evelyn once more. 
 
 Well, wishing makes things happen, don t it? 
 By hokey, just then Evelyn rushes through the 
 crowd and right up and flung her arms round 
 Jon. Her eyes were red with crying and she 
 was tired half dead having run all the way 
 in from the farm and not well yet. When 
 she got her breath she says : 
 
 "Jon! Dave s gone! The black s gone! 
 My uniform is gone! Dave knows!" 
 
 Jon seemed turned to stone and it was as if 
 he understood. But he could say nothing, not 
 a word.
 
 WAR 
 
 "Jon, do you hear?" shrieks Evelyn. "The 
 black is gone! Dave s gone! My uniform is 
 gone! He knows. He s gone South!" 
 
 "I hear !" says Jonathan. 
 
 "This is for you from Dave s room." 
 
 She handed him a letter. 
 
 "He s done just what you said he would 
 gone South as Mallory to save us!" 
 
 While Jon reads the letter she raves on : 
 
 "In some way he knows he knows all. 
 What am I to do Jon, what am I to do?" 
 
 Jon just looked at her. 
 
 "Jonthy, help me ! Help a sinner to stop the 
 consequences of her sin." 
 
 "Into the fire goes the dross, out of it comes 
 the pure gold," says Jon with his eyes closed. 
 "Through sorrow to joy always !" 
 
 Jon had finished reading the letter. He 
 stood and smiled down on Evelyn. The leave- 
 taking was still going on, and no one noticed 
 Evelyn and the captain much. 
 
 "How beautiful you are to-day!" says Jon.
 
 TO THE FRONT- 
 
 "The beauty of truth! How much to be de 
 sired. This is our Evelyn!" 
 
 "I want you I ask you to stay with me 
 at home! I need I must have some one 
 And then and then Dave will come back. 
 He will always come where you are," says Eve 
 lyn". "But he will never again come where I 
 am unless you are there, too. And then 
 oh, and then I ll keep you both ! Please stay ! 
 I m so lonely!" 
 
 Jon pushed the hair out of her eyes and 
 looked long into her face. 
 
 "It is too late for that, sister, dear." And 
 he points to his men. "Perhaps, God knows, 
 that is His punishment upon both of us that 
 I must say and you must hear that it is too 
 late ! Too late ! For, in the great light which 
 bursts upon me now, I see that we haven t 
 played fair with Dave. He should have known 
 all concerning himself that we knew. We are 
 not his keepers. He is. And we should have 
 left him to judge. Yes, this is God s own 
 
 323
 
 .WAR 
 
 punishment. For with all of us together, with 
 love and forbearance, all everything was pos 
 sible all might have been mended. But, now, 
 with hate and misunderstanding between us, 
 and separated to the four corners of the world 
 don t you see how much harder God has let 
 us make our problem?" 
 
 "I see, yes!" whispers Evelyn. "I see I 
 see it now! Oh, if I had only seen guessed 
 that this might happen before! Yes, it is too 
 late! All is too late! Jon, before you return 
 I shall die." 
 
 And nice old Jon, seeing her agony, stopped 
 his own and comforted her. 
 
 "But it is not too late, dear sister, for much 
 else that will now come to pass. At first I was 
 shocked, too. But now I believe I m glad. I 
 was not meant for a traitor. I see I see so 
 far and so much beyond ! This was meant to 
 be as it is. I was to be a Union soldier. Let 
 us accept it and follow on to happiness." 
 
 "Happiness?" moans Evelyn. 
 
 "Happiness," says Jon, solemn. "Don t you
 
 TO THE FRONT 
 
 see that this was the only way to ultimate 
 happiness? Dave knows yes, now but in a 
 way that is easily capable of honorable correc 
 tion. And the first step toward happiness is 
 for me to go, precisely where I am going to 
 day except that I go honestly for that is 
 toward Dave. It is fortunate that I must 
 Otherwise when you ask me to stay ah ! If I 
 could I would. But these men And you must 
 not die, but live and hope and wait! For I 
 am going now not to fight but to find Dave 
 for you. To bring him home." 
 
 For a moment Evelyn could not say a word 
 only breathe hard. Then 
 
 "Yes, go. Hurry!" 
 
 "Be happy," nods Jon. "I think God meant 
 it so. God does work in a mysterious yes, 
 and beautiful way His wonders to perform. 
 Just think ! All this sorrow, probably, that one 
 woman may be made perfect! And that she 
 might be my dear brother s wife, and my dear 
 sister! That we may all be, finally, together. 
 For, when I find Dave, and let him understand 
 325
 
 WAR 
 
 all and ask him to return to you fetch him 
 he will come " 
 
 "Yes, yes, yes!" she screams. "Tell him to 
 kill me for my wickedness -but to let me die in 
 his arms. Hurry ! I ll wait alone for Dave ! 
 Swear that you will find him ! Not only search, 
 but find!" 
 
 "I swear," says Jon, kissing his new sword. 
 "Otherwise, how could I come home to you? 
 For, now, I can come back to you, too. I need 
 not slink in the byways of the world among 
 those who have deserted the cause they swore 
 to die for. Doesn t that mean something to 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes," sobs Evelyn. 
 
 "Aren t you glad that I can go for the coun 
 try Hove?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And come back" to you a soldier of the 
 Union no matter how much we differ about 
 the North and the South?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Remember, that though Dave is as Union 
 326
 
 TO THE FRONT 
 
 as I am, he hasn t enlisted and taken the oath, 
 and he is really at liberty to join the Confeder 
 ate side. Nothing can be said about it except 
 by us, who know that it isn t honest done 
 only for you only for blessed you !" 
 
 Another long silence. Then Jon s soft voice 
 went on comforting: 
 
 "But, now, for the very last moment before 
 we move on to the front, let us think of the 
 home-coming! For the war is almost over. 
 Why, we shall soon be all together again ! And 
 the scars of the war will heal, and we will all 
 think alike before long, that it was good to pre 
 serve this Union ! And you and Dave will be 
 married ! Think of it ! There will be little 
 Daves and Evelyns a-plenty! And we shall 
 laugh laugh at all we suffer to-day! Now, 
 let me go! Send me forth to bring back our 
 dear Dave ! Smile ! Let me remember that !" 
 
 She tried to do that. But such a sad old 
 smile I never saw before. 
 
 "God bless you! And give him this and 
 this and this straight from my lips !" 
 327
 
 WAR 
 
 She kissed Jon three times. 
 
 I have seen my son in battle wounded de 
 feated retreating victorious but I have 
 never seen him as worked up as by those three 
 kisses. 
 
 Thank God the train whistled for us just 
 then. We were late. 
 
 That was too much for poor old Jon. He 
 staggers back among his men, muttering : 
 
 "Attention !" 
 
 Evelyn followed him. 
 
 "The letter, Jon ! The letter!" 
 
 Jon crushed Dave s letter, and putting it in 
 his shirt, shakes his head no. 
 
 "Not to see it?" 
 
 "For God s sake, go !" says Jon, pushing her 
 out of the ranks. "When I come back and all 
 is peace then !" 
 
 Then, savage as a bull of Bashan, Jon 
 cleared the women out and double-quicked us 
 to the train. There were no officers with their 
 swords in both hands, stepping backward. 
 There was no "By-the-right-wheel, Forward 
 328
 
 TO THE FRONT 
 
 March !" No turning like the spoke of a wheel. 
 There was no spreading out all over the street. 
 There was no left, left, left! The band had no 
 time to finish The Girl I Left Behind Me. 
 We raced off to war as if we were crazy to get 
 there and the devil was behind us.
 
 XXXIV 
 
 THE PITY OF IT 
 
 JON tried to keep his word to Evelyn- 
 poking into all the rebel places he came to 
 getting into no end of trouble and danger- 
 shot at and missed as if the Lord was on his 
 side inquiring of every prisoner he met but 
 we never heard anything of Dave or Mallory. 
 I was discharged before my time was up be 
 cause of the loss of my arm at Chancellorsville. 
 Jon stayed in "for the war". But really, to find 
 Dave. He had no heart for the fighting 
 though when he fought it was as he did every 
 thing else; like a man. Yet he always cried 
 over the men he killed and wounded both 
 Union and Confederate. And he d send such 
 of them as was possible home all packed in 
 flowers if it was summer and enough could 
 330
 
 THE PITY OF IT 
 
 be found. Sometimes he d send a little note 
 in the coffin. Often it was nothing more than : 
 
 "This was a brave man !" 
 
 and sign his name and regiment. 
 
 And, more and more, as he saw the wonder 
 ful" armies and organization of the Union, the 
 pouring out of men and money from the North, 
 the sure and steady march on to final victory in 
 the war, did my old Jon want to stop it. Once 
 I heard him talk to a young officer he had cap 
 tured. 
 
 "I m not going to keep you," he says. "You 
 are too fine a boy to drag your life out at Fort 
 Warren." 
 
 "Not going to keep me ?" says the youngster, 
 rubbing his handsome dark eyes. "Why, suh, 
 you got the right to. You took me inside yo 
 lines. I don t demand, suh, to be let go." 
 
 "I m going to let you go, all the same," says 
 Jon. "Remember, I haven t put my hands on 
 you yet, and, therefore, you are not precisely 
 my prisoner. In a moment I will show you a
 
 WAR 
 
 safe way out. But, do you mind a little talk 
 first?" 
 
 "Why, n no, suh," says the handsome 
 young rebel, "though you Yankees are rather 
 queer, aren t you? to let a man go who has 
 been inside your lines and seen 
 
 "You are not going to tell what you have 
 seen," says Jon. 
 
 "Why am I not, suh?" says the rebel, very 
 haughty. 
 
 "Because you are a gentleman as any one 
 can see as most of you are." 
 
 "I promise nothin , suh !" says the captive. 
 
 "Certainly not," says Jon. "But look here, 
 I hope you will not go back to the army. 
 Do as you please, of course. But if you have 
 a mother or a sister or a sweetheart, give me 
 your parol, voluntarily, and go back to them. 
 Every man killed and wounded in this war 
 from now on, will be nothing less than mur 
 der" 
 
 "Why, suh?" demands the young Confed 
 erate. 
 
 332
 
 THE PITY OF IT 
 
 "Because, from now on, it is absolutely cer 
 tain that the Union will win." 
 
 "Excuse me, suh !" says the soldier. 
 
 "Why, my dear boy, we have twenty men 
 to your one in the field now and more coming 
 all the time. We have a thousand dollars to 
 yotfr one. We have now an army of more than 
 a million of seasoned veterans instead of the 
 greenhorns we began with. We have, at last, 
 and the way has been long and fearful, found 
 the right men to lead the armies." 
 
 "Suh," said the young soldier, "right is 
 might and must prevail." 
 
 "My boy, even if you are right, you will be 
 crushed, overwhelmed, by mere weight, if 
 nothing else. And, if you are to be vanquished 
 in the end, why net stop now and save the thou 
 sands upon thousands of young men like you 
 who will yet be killed, for their mothers and 
 wives and sweethearts? Go. Do as you like. 
 I ask no promises. But, it would make me 
 mighty glad to know that out of the -slaughter 
 which must yet be I had saved a fine boy like 
 333
 
 WAR 
 
 you and sent him back to his waiting moth 
 er." 
 
 "Suh," said the young Confederate, "I have 
 never thought of it like that. I have heard no 
 one speak of it like that. Suh, let me say that 
 if I could, I would do just what you ask go 
 home to my mother, sisters and sweetheart. I 
 have all of em. I am tired of this wall. We 
 get on too slowly. But what would be said if 
 I should go home? Not a friend in the So th 
 would ever speak to me again. I should be 
 ostracized. A leper. Suh, it is my duty to 
 stand by my comrades, right or wrong, until 
 the last ditch is reached, then to die there. 
 Wouldn t you?" 
 
 "No," shakes old Jon. "I would go home 
 to-morrow if I could, no matter what mis 
 taken fools might think. But you I see and 
 know what you will do because you are a brave 
 boy and I am sorry for it. Good-by. Per 
 haps, after all, a time may come when you will 
 not think as you do now, but as I do, that you 
 will be serving your comrades and your coun- 
 334
 
 THE PITY OF IT 
 
 try best by doing what you can to stop a strug 
 gle, useless, and deadly, and bloody. Good- 
 by." 
 
 "Suh," said the youngster, "I didn t know 
 there were such men in the No th. If the 
 time ever comes that I can, with honah, do as 
 you suggest, I will do so and thanks to you!" 
 
 So they shook hands and parted. 
 
 As for me, I had seen enough of war to be 
 glad to go limping home, pale and sick, a neigh 
 bor on each side of me, almost as sick and crip 
 pled as I. Ah, there was nothing in war as glo 
 rious as those thrills on the common, and that 
 leaving, on the Square ! I used to imagine that 
 if I were killed or wounded the band would 
 meet me at the depot when I got home, and 
 there would be a carriage or a hearse draped in 
 flags and filled with flowers. Maybe I thought 
 of this when I used up my last month s wages 
 sending a despatch to Simon Corbin and John 
 Alloway telling them that I was out of the hos 
 pital, less an arm, and was coming home honor 
 ably discharged. 
 
 335
 
 WAR 
 
 But if I did I was properly punished. There 
 was no one to meet me but Simon and John and 
 a few little boys. And, though we went 
 through the town, three war-cripples, not more 
 than a half dozen people came to their doors 
 and looked at us. One or two came and shook 
 hands. 
 
 I believe I was disappointed. I had taken in 
 all the glory-talk, as well as the gratitude-no 
 tion, and I had thought, I am afraid, that I was 
 doing something noble : first, in going to such 
 a dangerous thing as war for my country and 
 fellow men ; second, in losing an arm for them 
 a material part of my body. But no one 
 seemed to care very much. And I heard no 
 one speak of courage, patriotism, or gratitude. 
 All now cursed the war. 
 
 When the body has been fed too much of one 
 kind of food it becomes indifferent to it. Per 
 haps the mind of our people had been fed too 
 greedily upon the war. And, too, maybe there 
 were too many who had paid more dearly than 
 I for their devotion. Maybe, there were, now, 
 336
 
 so few left behind that enthusiasm was impos 
 sible. 
 
 It was good to see and then to reach the 
 peaceful battered old place again, and to put 
 my face under the pump-spout while John and 
 Simon pumped. Even though the farm looked 
 like a ruin ! It had not been long, but the cat 
 tle and horses had been taken, and if I hadn t 
 arranged to have the old Jerry-horse I rode in 
 the army, sent home to me, I wouldn t have had 
 anything to pull the plow even though there 
 was little enough to plow. 
 
 And, worst of all, Evelyn was gone Betsy 
 didn t know where just disappeared like 
 Dave. Well, I didn t know the old house was 
 so big, nor could be so lonely. Everybody was 
 gone, there seemed nobody about even the 
 neighborhood. I sat out there on the porch, 
 where I could see some one going by, now and 
 then, nearly always. 
 
 The land hadn t been farmed since I went 
 away. No crops were in and it was too late to 
 put any in. Anyhow, what could I do with 
 337
 
 WAR 
 
 one arm and one cavalry horse? The hireland 
 had been drafted and shot to death three days 
 after being mustered in. 
 
 That was what the war meant to us part of 
 it only a small part.
 
 XXXV 
 
 HOME, SWEET HOME 
 
 AD so, as I was sitting on the porch, out 
 there, one afternoon, and the old Jerry- 
 horse was eating grass in the front yard, a 
 couple of regiments of cavalry came up the 
 road, just beyond, in command of a young 
 colonel in a faded old uniform. When he got 
 opposite he stopped and saluted like I was a 
 major-general. 
 
 "God-a-mighty !" says I, putting on my 
 glasses, "you re the first man who s acknowl 
 edge that I fought, bled and died nearly for 
 the Union. Who are you? Wait! I want to 
 shake hands !" 
 
 I salutes and runs down the yard, crazy for 
 the Union the minute I sees the uniforms. 
 When I got near, something, mostly the smile, 
 I think, reminded me a little of Dave. 
 339
 
 WAR 
 
 "Who are you?" I yells. "Not God-a- 
 mighty not at last Dave ?" 
 
 "No," says the young officer, "only Jon." 
 
 And he gets down and hugs me and cries 
 over my empty sleeve. 
 
 "Where do you come from ? Where are you 
 going? Can t yon stay for dinner?" I asks 
 altogether. 
 
 "No," Jon smiles. "We come from every 
 where. We re pushing on to Hooker at Get 
 tysburg. Orders are to get there to-night. 
 There s likely to be a fight. We are paralleling 
 Lee. As you know, he s on the way to Pennsyl 
 vania. After the fight I ll manage to get a lit 
 tle leave and come back for the dinner and a 
 talk. So, daddy, dear, good-by." 
 
 He turns to get on his horse. I holds him 
 fast. 
 
 "What about Dave?" I asked. 
 
 "Nothing," he shakes, and gets on his horse. 
 
 "Wait," I yells. "I can t stand this from 
 my son if he is a colonel. I must talk. God 
 knows I don t get the chance often now. 
 340
 
 HOME, SWEET HOME 
 
 Everybody s in the war or dead. I ll ride 
 along a mile or two." 
 
 Jon pulled up a little, and I jumped on the 
 old Jerry-horse, just back from the mill, and 
 rode with Jon right out in front. 
 
 Well, it was like old times, and the Jerry- 
 horSe spruced up and pranced along as if he 
 were going to war again. He understood, the 
 old Jerry-horse did. 
 
 "Jon," I says, "get me a saber." 
 
 "Nonsense," laughs Jonathan. "What do 
 you want with a saber? You re incapaci 
 tated." 
 
 "Nothing," says I, "only it don t seem right 
 without. I think the old Jerry-horse will be 
 have better if he feels a saber on his ribs." 
 
 But the truth was that I was rambunctious 
 crazy to fight! Now what do you think of 
 that! 
 
 Jon laughs and gets me a saber. 
 
 "Not for you," he says, "but for the old 
 Jerry-horse !" 
 
 And, in fact, the horse understood, and
 
 WAR 
 
 stopped his prancing and drew long breaths 
 and snorted now and then, as if there was a 
 battle near. 
 
 As we went on down the road, nearer and 
 nearer to Excelsior, it seemed as if all the 
 rebels of the earlier part of the war had dis 
 appeared and all were now Union. For the 
 road became lined with people who wouldn t 
 let us through till they had filled up our haver 
 sacks, canteens and bellies with flowers in 
 our buttonholes and hands. Why, they brought 
 hot coffee in tubs ! There were bushel baskets 
 of fresh loaves! And, if you ve never been a 
 soldier you don t know what the smell of fresh 
 bread and coffee is! Whisky was plenty, too, 
 and cigars, and even clothes! Why, any man 
 in a blue uniform had only to ask for what he 
 wanted to get it. The sentiment was all for 
 the Union now. Jon tried to keep them mov 
 ing. But I begged to let em have one good 
 time in their lives. 
 
 "If there s going to be a fight to-morrow, 
 342
 
 HOME, SWEET HOME 
 
 Jonthy," says I, "God knows it will be the last 
 good time for some of them!" 
 
 "Nevertheless," says old Jon, in the way I 
 knew, "I can t permit this. They are demoral 
 izing- 
 Just about then a hundred girls or so, all 
 dressed up, joined hands across the road right 
 in front of us. 
 Jon surrendered. 
 
 Then a couple hundred more gathered there, 
 right in the road, about the dearest young faces 
 I had ever seen, and began to sing. 
 
 Annie Laurie, Her Bright Smile Haunts Me 
 Still, Tramp, Tramp, Tramp! All Quiet Along 
 the Potomac To-night, Home, Sweet Home! 
 
 The battered soldiers had begun by singing 
 out of tune with them very gay. And there 
 was much tossing of flowers to and fro and 
 laughing. But at Home, Sweet Home a great 
 silence fell. They took off their hats and let 
 the tears roll down their cheeks. They weren t 
 much like the apple-faced boys, these bearded, 
 343
 
 WAR 
 
 bronzed and faded soldiers. They were from 
 everywhere Maine to Virginia. But they all 
 cried at Home, Sweet Homo.. 
 
 Each one had left a good home for this! 
 
 An old preacher, in a long rusty coat, got up 
 on a store box and addressed the boys, talked 
 to them, nice, just a little, of their homes 
 and what was in them. Then he prayed and 
 blessed them and begged God to end the war 
 soon and to save them all for their homes. 
 
 Suddenly an orderly came riding up to Jon 
 and said something. 
 
 "Ladies," Jon shouts out, "thank you for all. 
 But clear the road at once. There is work 
 for us. When we return you may sing us the 
 victor s paean. Go to the cellars." 
 
 I never saw such quick vanishment. Then 
 we sees that we re attacked by rebel cavalry. 
 
 "Forward!" yells Jon to the men. "Carry 
 sabers! Trot! Gallop! Charge!" 
 
 But before we got well started, the Johnnies 
 burst right on us, in front and both flanks, 
 from behind some barns and houses, cutting 
 344
 
 HOME, SWEET HOME 
 
 like devils. We had no chance at all. They 
 were dressed in the Union uniforms stolen 
 from the dead at Chancellorsville and we didn t 
 know, in our surprise at seeing men in Union 
 clothes cutting us down, what to do. But Jon 
 did. He never lost his head for a minute. 
 
 He ordered the retreat, and we fought our 
 way to the cover of houses and fences and 
 barns. Finally we formed and rested. There 
 were a good many missing. And Jon there 
 was a dangerous look in his eyes when he saw 
 it. The rebels had posted batteries and were 
 shelling us. 
 
 "Boys," said Jon, quiet as a deacon, "I re 
 spect an honest rebel. But these are dressed 
 in the uniforms of our dead brothers. What 
 are you going to do about it ? I think they out 
 number us five or ten to one." 
 
 "Advance !" they yells, to a man. 
 
 And Jon ordered it. 
 
 Oh, that was different ! You know how you 
 fight when you re imposed upon. We drove 
 em like cattle, riding them down, shooting 
 345
 
 WAR 
 
 them in the back or front no matter which. 
 The old Jerry-horse, needing no bridle hand, 
 behaved like a trump. He thought he ought 
 to be in front and he was. But this Jon, 
 beside me, was still another incarnation of 
 my boy the thing that war makes of gentle 
 men ! His cap was off, and his saber was the 
 busiest in the lot. He piloted us into the very 
 hell of it leading himself to show us how! 
 
 We had them demoralized and on the run. 
 The road was nearly impassable with dead 
 men and horses and equipments. But we 
 could see, off to the right, on another road, 
 the colonel commanding, trying to rally some 
 of his men to a last effort. He had only one 
 arm, like me. But he was a Trojan at making 
 men fight. Well, he succeeded. They came at 
 our flank like a whirlwind. But Jon had been 
 making ready. He faced us right, and we 
 counter-charged, Jon in the lead, like Lucifer 
 himself, outdistancing the Jerry-horse. 
 
 But the Johnny was game. He gave us a 
 carbine volley on the run and pushed right 
 346
 
 HOME, SWEET HOME 
 
 into us. God! I ll never forget that coming 
 together! Four thousand men meeting as 
 hard as their horses could run ! Those behind 
 piling up on those in front, heaps of shrieking 
 men and plunging horses, and every man at 
 each other s throats, men firing out of this mass 
 and into it! Then a shell fell amongst us and 
 stopped all for a second. When the smoke 
 cleared we could see the rebel colonel pinned 
 under his dead horse, but firing over him at 
 Jon. Corbin and I dashed on to capture him 
 stop him firing, too and then we saw Jon 
 crawl over the dead horse to the rebel colonel 
 and hold up his battered sword to stop us. 
 Just then the rebel shot him. I jumped down 
 to help Jon, and found him calling the one- 
 armed colonel Dave! 
 
 He worked his arm around Dave and kissed 
 him three times, talking in a soft joyous voice. 
 
 "She gave em to me to give to you when I 
 found you. And, you see, I have, at last, ful 
 filled my trust. The fight is all gone out of me 
 now. That was all I stayed in for to find 
 347
 
 .WAR 
 
 you. I have hunted you so long, Dave. For 
 her, Dave. Didn t you know it? Didn t you 
 think I would?" 
 
 Dave said nothing only dazed and dreamy. 
 Jon pushed the blood out of his face and looked 
 at Dave, as if he would never get enough. 
 
 "You re not badly hurt, Dave? No; of 
 course not. Nor am I. How could we hurt 
 each other within a mile of home? Now we ll 
 go back to Evelyn and fight no more. Right 
 here the war ends for us. If some one would 
 help me up I could walk. Corbin! Daddy!" 
 
 He fainted and Dave gave him some water 
 out of his battered canteen. When he revived, 
 Jon says: 
 
 "I m glad you re not in one of those Chan- 
 cellorsville uniforms, Dave." 
 
 "I ordered that," says Dave, with his head 
 in his hand. 
 
 "You!" says Jon. "I ll never believe it. 
 You d have worn one yourself if you had." 
 
 "I had to wear this one," says Dave. 
 
 "Why?" says Jon, maybe forgetting. 
 348
 
 HOME, SWEET HOME 
 
 "It is Evelyn s." 
 
 "That s right, Davy, that s right," say Jon. 
 "You re her soldier." 
 
 "I am her soldier," says Dave, as if he had 
 no pride in it. 
 
 "Dave, I m tired of war very, very tired. 
 I wftnt to fish with you. Come !" 
 
 But his head fell over on Dave s breast, and 
 Dave caught him in his arm, and so he died.
 
 XXXVI 
 
 AS GRASS OF THE FIELD 
 
 HOW hard it is to stop a fight till all 
 are put out in some way! This one 
 went on without leaders, just for spite. Only 
 a few of Jon s and Dave s men, mostly wound 
 ed or prisoners of each other, stood around us. 
 We were almost alone. Both Union and rebels 
 took their hats off when Jon drooped on Dave s 
 breast. They seemed to understand. 
 
 For a minute Dave was stunned. He saw 
 nothing but Jon s smiling face, the eyes open, 
 looking straight at him, when he turned it 
 up. Even I could hardly believe, from the 
 looks, that my boy was dead. Dave kept strok 
 ing Jon s long light hair and saying crazy baby 
 things. But after a while he spoke so s I 
 could hear: 
 
 "You re not hurt badly, are you, Jonthy? 
 
 350
 
 AS GRASS OF THE FIELD 
 
 Just brace up. Dave would rather die a thou 
 sand times than hurt you. You see, I was blind 
 and crazy with pain, and blood in my eyes, or 
 I would have known you as you crawled over 
 the horse. You know how that is, being a sol 
 dier, and a better and braver and honester one 
 thjm I. When you have pain you can hardly 
 stand, and blood from a saber cut in your eyes, 
 you just fire at anything and everything just 
 for spite and hell in general. And we re all 
 black as niggers with powder. Now wake up, 
 Jonthy, dear. Dave s your prisoner, and he s 
 glad of it. But you ve got to take him in. 
 Then he ll nurse you well of the wound he gave 
 you. My God to think of me shooting you! 
 Jonthy, wake up and tell me you forgive me !" 
 
 Just then, as if Jon really heard, the eyes fell 
 shut, and the nerveless head nestled closer to 
 Dave, and bowed a little as if in assent. And, 
 also, just then, Dave pressed his face down to 
 Jon s and knew that he was dead and, that he 
 had killed him! 
 
 I hope I shall never again see such a look on 
 351
 
 WAR 
 
 a man s face as that I saw on the face of my 
 own son then. 
 
 I got them both. No one objected. All 
 was sorry for me. And when we took sense 
 less Dave up, we found that he had all the 
 time been pinned by the legs under his dead 
 horse. Neither he nor any one else had 
 thought of the pain and horror of that. Jon 
 I laid on the old Jerry-horse, and Dave on Jon s 
 horse. Both Jon s and Dave s men helped. 
 There was no North nor South there then, but 
 only men. And it showed what we all really 
 were in distress. Just brothers. It was 
 strange how they all seemed to understand. 
 
 So we went homeward, slow and solemn, 
 the dead and wounded all about us, I leading 
 the Jerry-horse, Corbin leading Jon s. The bat 
 tle was over. I don t know who was whipped. 
 But both sides opened ranks as we passed and 
 saluted. The choir of girls was out yes, as 
 they said they would be and the rusty old 
 preacher at their head. But it was not a song 
 of victory they sang as we passed, but that 
 352
 
 AS GRASS OF THE FIELD 
 
 same old thing, Home, Sweet Home. And 
 all formed in ranks and followed. The girls 
 were still dressed in white, and had green 
 garlands on their heads and pink and blue 
 sashes around their waists. But I think each 
 dear young eye in those hundreds had a tear 
 for my boys and maybe, for me. The rusty 
 old preacher recited the services for the dead. 
 
 "Lord," he said, "thou sayest, truly, that we 
 know not what a day may bring forth. But 
 an hour ago these young brothers were lusty 
 with life. Now one is dead by the other s 
 hand. And that one maimed. Truly man is 
 like the beast which perisheth. Man is like to 
 vanity. He cometh forth as a flower and is 
 cut down ; he fleeth also as a shadow, and con- 
 tinueth not." 
 
 And so we came home.
 
 XXXVII 
 
 THE LETTER DAVE WROTE 
 
 DAVE, of course, was a prisoner. But 
 there was little enough guarding. He 
 seemed out of his mind. He said almost noth 
 ing to me, but would sit with his head in his 
 hands and look at me till I got creepy and 
 had to go away. And then, one morning, he 
 was missing. 
 
 I am ashamed to say it, but, in some ways, 
 I was glad. I could hardly bear it. Soon I 
 couldn t have. It was not my Dave. It was a 
 tortured, warped and silent spirit. One day 
 I said that we were only one man between us, 
 just in fun, because we had only two arms to 
 gether. He didn t seem to understand. 
 "Where did you lose your arm, Dave?" 
 He looked down at the place a long time, 
 354
 
 THE LETTER DAVE WROTE 
 
 trying to recollect, then he shakes his head, 
 like he couldn t, and says : 
 
 "I don t know." 
 
 Wouldn t you know where you lost your 
 arm? 
 
 "Davy," I says again, "does it hurt at the 
 wpund in your head ?" 
 
 "Am I wounded in the head ?" asks he. 
 
 "Yes," says I, "the day that Jon died." 
 
 Dave nods and puts his hand to his head 
 then, as if he really remembered. 
 
 "The day I killed Jonathan!" he 
 breathes, looking straight away at nothing at 
 all. "My brother Jonathan !" 
 
 Suddenly he starts up and hunts for his ac 
 coutrements. 
 
 "I must go. She s coming. Did you hear 
 her singing?" 
 
 "Who?" asks I. "I hear no singing. Who?" 
 
 He didn t tell me who, but stops listening 
 and sits down again. 
 
 "I always think I hear her coming. Even in 
 355
 
 .WAR 
 
 battle I turn my head often, expecting to see 
 her, thinking I hear her. I am always ready." 
 
 "Ready for what?" asks I. 
 
 "To fire," says Dave. 
 
 "On her whoever it is?" 
 
 "Yes. I must kill her when she comes. She 
 killed Jon. She made a traitor of me. She 
 must do no more harm. I mustn t kill her here. 
 No, there must not be two deaths on you, 
 daddy. Maybe I couldn t here! But I must 
 I will kill her. She s a murderer." 
 
 That night he disappeared. 
 
 The letter Jon got that day, on the Square, 
 from Dave, was in Jonathan s pocket when he 
 died all black and ragged, but in Dave s big 
 handwriting easy to read very easy to read. 
 Evelyn s got it in a little ivory box up-stairs 
 all alone. But we ve read it so often, with so 
 many tears, that I know it by heart every 
 word. It is the last testament of Jon and Dave 
 together. For, as you will remember, after 
 that they met but once just long enough for 
 one to shoot the other. 
 356
 
 THE LETTER DAVE WROTE 
 
 "DEAR OLD JONTHY : 
 
 "I heard you out under the trees. Don t 
 you go. I am going as Mallory. If I m to be 
 saved I d rather save myself and thank my 
 self for it. I won t do any more harm down 
 there than I have to do to fill Evelyn s contract. 
 Now, then, Jonthy, dear, she must love you. 
 And you must marry her. Why, if I should 
 he^r, some day, that you were married, I d go 
 crazy with joy so maybe you better not if 
 you don t want a crazy brother. And if, fur 
 ther, I should hear and I shall hear every 
 thing that goes on! that there were a lot of 
 lovely little dark-eyed Vonners running about 
 the old place the more the better I should 
 go more crazy so perhaps you d better not 
 unless you want a double-crazy brother. Any 
 how, I shall never come back. Honest, Jonthy, 
 I couldn t after this. Could I? Would you? 
 And the minute I am out of sight I ll give up 
 the dear old name. Maybe you ll hear of the 
 prodigious deeds of Lucas Mallory some day. 
 I wish you wouldn t go. But, if you must, go 
 for your country, and for no woman even 
 Evelyn. Fight under the glorious old stars 
 and stripes! Bring back honor enough to 
 cover up the dishonor I shall bring if they 
 find out who I am. And then, for God s sake, 
 come back safe. Evelyn needs you. Make her 
 keep out of the spy business. Hoop la ! It is
 
 WAR 
 
 done. It can not be undone. Jonthy, don t 
 let it be in vain! Marry her. Beat her into 
 it if there s no other way. I would. 
 
 "Jonthy about Evelyn a little more I 
 didn t know that there had been anything be 
 tween you till I heard you to-night. Dear broth 
 er, even though it was all for me, it wasn t 
 right. You let me go about loading the agony 
 on you day by day. I didn t see a thing then. 
 I see it all all now ! And I have that to think 
 of to the end of my days. We have never lied 
 to each other and you ll believe me now. If 
 I had known But what s the use? It s too 
 late for that. I made her love me just car 
 ried her off of her feet. Otherwise, she would 
 have kept on loving you. No, no, no ! That 
 would be the first lie between us, and it shall 
 not be even for Evelyn. And it will not 
 make things easier. But, Jon, I didn t know. 
 That s the only thing I can say both at begin 
 ning and end. 
 
 "This is the longest and most mixed letter 
 I ever wrote, Jonthy, dear. And it makes my 
 head and heart tired. But, just at the last, a 
 word about the fishing. Somehow, when I 
 think of that I am not tired any more. And 
 it seems like you d forgive me and smile again 
 if we could only go fishing! Think of the 
 fishing, Jonthy, when you read this. And a 
 little chap riding on your back, his arms close 
 about your neck, you holding his little fat legs 
 358
 
 THE LETTER DAVE WROTE 
 
 under your arms, harder and harder as you go 
 from a trot into a gallop! I wouldn t have 
 harmed you then for the universe. And, be 
 lieve me, brother, I would no more do it now. 
 An hour ago that time seemed a long way back. 
 Now, it s right here, and I am smiling as I 
 write of it. Smile, Jon! Think of the fishing! 
 You catching them all. Me bothering. Are 
 you doing it? Smiling? I know you are. 
 And that s the best time to say farewell for 
 ever and forever farewell! I love you like a 
 brother. There is no greater love. I kiss your 
 faithful feet! 
 
 "DAVE. 
 
 "P. S. Two o clock, A. M. 
 
 "Jonthy, dear, it s awful hard to go. I am 
 shivering. It is ninety degrees below zero 
 with me. But, at last, I m in Evelyn s uni 
 form. It fits me a little tight. I stole it 
 when I came up-stairs to bed. There s a stain 
 of blood on the right side. Her blood. Part 
 of her. I shall wear that until what? I 
 wonder what? Please marry her, Jonthy. 
 Don t you wish we were little again? And 
 slept together in the trundle bed? And there 
 were no beautiful Southern Evelyns? And we 
 could go fishing? And didn t have to go to 
 war shivering ? 
 
 "LITTLE FAT DAVE. 
 
 "Ha, ha! Laugh, Jonthy, dear. 
 359
 
 WAR 
 
 "P. S. S. Three o clock: 
 "I am distressed for thee, my brother Jona 
 than : 
 
 Very pleasant hast thou been unto me : 
 Thy love to me was wonderful 
 Passing the love of women. 
 
 "How are the mighty fallen ! 
 And the weapons of war perished ! 
 
 "DAVID." 
 
 And his Bible was open and turned down on 
 the letter at the story of David and Jonathan 
 and how Jonathan saved David and was killed 
 himself.
 
 XXXVIII 
 
 PEACE 
 
 ONE day, after the war was over, I was 
 sitting alone here, in the afternoon sun, 
 when a woman, dressed like a nun, came, slow 
 and solemn, up the yard. She hung her head 
 until she got close to me, then she put it down 
 on my old knees and cried. It was Evelyn. 
 
 For a long time we said nothing. We 
 couldn t. Then I asked her: 
 
 "Where have you been, Evelyn ?" 
 
 "In hospitals Union hospitals rebel hos 
 pitals. Helping to heal the wounds I made 
 and such as I. Searching for Dave." 
 
 "Have you come to stay with me, once 
 more?" I asks. 
 
 "As long as we live," says she, "if you will 
 have me."
 
 WAR 
 
 "Have you!" says I, putting my one arm 
 around her. 
 
 "I wasn t sure," she says. "If you had done 
 to me and mine what I have done to you and 
 yours, I wonder whether I would forgive 
 you? " 
 
 "Yes, you would," says I. 
 
 "And, maybe," she says, after a while, "he 
 will come back to you. Then I shall be here. 
 I know now that he will never come to me." 
 
 "No," I says, "he will never come to you/ 
 and I hands her the letter to read. 
 
 She s coming up the yard now. See! She 
 has red and white roses in her hands from 
 Jon s hotbed behind the barn where her wed 
 ding flowers were to grow ! She wears the 
 red roses just as she did that last night, for 
 Dave. The white ones are for Jon. She s just 
 put some on his grave. She does it early every 
 morning. I call her my angel of the blue and 
 the gray. She calls me her two lovers of the 
 gray and the blue. She says I must love her 
 as much as they both did. But I say that she s 
 362
 
 PEACE 
 
 my two boys, and that she must love me as 
 much as they both did. 
 
 Just in fun all just in fun ! 
 
 It s a long time we have waited together. 
 And all the sorrows of the war seem healed 
 except ours. He ought to come. He ought 
 to, hurry. He is a brave and generous boy. 
 So he must give Evelyn a chance to say she s 
 sorry. That s all she lives for. Then I don t 
 know what! 
 
 But he mustn t kill her, like he said, when 
 he comes, only put his arms around her and 
 kiss her kiss her till she s tired of kissing if 
 there is such a thing. And sing a funny little 
 song and laugh, and dance a hoe-down like 
 when they came back from the riding. And 
 he must take her fishing and let her ketch some 
 of the fish. He must forget and forgive. We 
 mustn t be the only ones the war leaves deso 
 late. 
 
 Yes, see, she s coming up the yard. She s 
 been to Jonthy s grave. Coming with the sun 
 in her face, and happy!
 
 XXXIX 
 
 AFTER THE STORY 
 
 THIS is the story which beautiful old 
 Stephen Vonner told me in his apple- 
 orchard one night in June. We sat under a 
 low-boughed tree whose blossoms filtered lov 
 ingly down upon us all the long night. For the 
 story began while the setting sun still glowed in 
 our faces and went on through the nesting of 
 the birds, the sleep-song of the cicadas, the 
 amazing night-stillness; while the constella 
 tions reeled above and the serried Milky Way 
 marched past ; until the full moon rose, saying : 
 "Lo, I have looked upon wo for a million 
 years ! And it passes always it passes. Have 
 peace!" Until the risen sun peered, again, 
 upon us through the dewy boughs, repeating 
 its promise of a new day. 
 
 And, all these things of nature were appa- 
 364
 
 AFTER THE STORY 
 
 nages of the human story the sympathetic ac 
 companiment, if you like. 
 
 Then, when the sun was fully risen, Homeric 
 Stephen Vonner lay his one arm upon the rude 
 table where we sat, and his mighty tired head 
 upon it, and slept as, I think, he had not slept 
 for long. For, his heart was shriven. 
 
 And I, who had come long miles, from a 
 city, to hear his simple tale, rose softly and 
 went my way, leaving him in the peace of God 
 and his own dear land. 
 
 For, the pity of it all was strong upon me. 
 
 I walked beside a barely practicable road, 
 upon wonderful moss, under thick-girthed, 
 aromatic oaks whose branches met my bared 
 and moody head. 
 
 It was haying time and the air was full of 
 the fragrance of the new hay and all was green 
 save where the fields of yellowing grain 
 stood out, laughing and happy, proclaiming 
 their sovereignty of the land. 
 
 The hum of a mower reached me, and the 
 happy laughter of the makers of hay a song! 
 365
 
 WAR 
 
 And, as I passed into the day, there came to 
 sight a pasture with kindly-eyed, ruminating 
 kine deep in a stream, under that shadow of 
 mighty trees. 
 
 Indeed, one of the intense beauties of this 
 land was these islands of great trees standing 
 out from the grain and clover and timothy, 
 webbed in gray "snake" fencing. 
 
 Then I saw, coming toward me, a woman. 
 
 She might have been younger than fifty. 
 Tall she was, with wonderful dark hair and an 
 imperial figure. She carried in her arms a 
 great burden of roses some red, some white. 
 Her head was bare. 
 
 Here everything was attuned to the great 
 harmony, Peace. And, into this peace, nothing 
 fitted more perfectly than this woman. 
 
 She had seen me before I saw her; yet there 
 was no change in gait or expression. I might 
 be a passer-by upon whom she would look this 
 once and never more. Peace indeed ! 
 
 Said I to the woman : 
 
 "Are you the Evelyn of the story?" 
 366
 
 AFTER THE STORY 
 
 "Yes," she smiled. 
 
 For the youthful name must have sounded 
 odd on my alien lips. 
 
 "You will print it?" she asked. 
 "Every word," said I. 
 "Then maybe?" 
 
 But was there an interrogation in the soft 
 
 <f> 
 
 dark eyes? Was it possible that before me she 
 laid down her cross and would take it up again 
 only when she reached Vonner? Was it cer 
 tainty to him and uncertainty to me? For the 
 sin of loving too well was this her endless pen 
 ance? I would not be a party to the interro 
 gation. I took the soft old hand ; I gazed into 
 the velvety eyes ; I said : 
 
 "There must be no maybe ." 
 
 "No," she nodded humbly, with bowed head, 
 "that was wrong." 
 
 Yet, within me that conscience which doth 
 make cowards of all but the women who 
 wait, was crying: 
 
 "It is fifty years! Dave, if alive, is an old, 
 old man! Evelyn is an old woman! Age can 
 367
 
 WAR 
 
 not love! If Dave were alive and had a mind 
 to return he must have done so long ago! If 
 one loves does one stay away?" 
 
 "Why," she was smiling while I was com 
 pounding treason, "we have done everything 
 else to get word to him, but, strangely enough, 
 have never thought of printing his story and 
 sending it into every corner of the earth. I 
 think God himself sent you here to-day to put 
 even greater peace, and more hope into our 
 hearts." 
 
 "I trust so," said I cravenly. 
 
 "Perhaps God thinks we have expiated our 
 sins," the woman went on joyously now, "and 
 is ready with our reward. For we have waited 
 fifty years ! Fifty long, long years !" 
 
 Her voice broke and there was silence be 
 tween us for a space. 
 
 Vonner s voice had been soft with the Ger 
 man of his ancestors. But Evelyn s caressed 
 with the elisions of the South which alien 
 tongues could never quell. I fell to the won- 
 368
 
 AFTER THE STORY 
 
 derful voice. But, presently, my conscience 
 would not and rose in revolt. Almost without 
 my willing, it uttered a grim warning : 
 
 "Do not forget the years," said I. "Dave 
 would be seventy if he should come back." 
 
 But, instantly, when I had choked down con 
 science, I was glad that my saying had not 
 hurt her. It meant nothing to love like hers. 
 
 "And, do men cease to love and forgive at 
 seventy?" asked the gentle voice. "Women 
 don t. I do not, and I am nearly seventy." 
 
 She said it with a wonderful smile, while her 
 nostrils quivered and her face was lighted with 
 the eternal passion. 
 
 What man can know a woman s waiting! 
 What man can know a woman s loving! 
 
 And, so, that conscience, which, veined with 
 reason, had uttered its stern warning, now 
 weakly hastened to reverse itself and lend hope 
 and comfort to the amazing love and waiting. 
 
 For the moment I was ashamed of my con 
 science. I felt like bidding it stand fast. I. 
 369
 
 WAR 
 
 "Be not afraid, he will come for this for 
 giveness you are sending to him through all the 
 world !" 
 
 But, inside of me, to use one of Vonner s 
 thoughts, conscience was again saying : 
 
 "If not here in another and, God knows ! 
 perhaps a better world for such as you and 
 Jon and Dave !" 
 
 "Yes!" she said now. 
 
 And I, too, now said yes! 
 
 I over-argued. 
 
 "Love is immortal," I urged. "There are 
 no years for you and him." 
 
 A sudden flush, as of youth, overspread the 
 cheek and throat of Evelyn. She nodded 
 quickly, as a young girl might. Then, indeed, 
 I believed my own saying! She did. The in 
 terrogation was gone from her eyes. I was 
 glad. 
 
 "I kno^v he will yet come," she said now, 
 very quietly, while the years rolled from her. 
 "Please come back. You must say good-by 
 among the blossoms. It is better luck." 
 370
 
 AFTER THE STORY 
 
 I did. 
 
 Evelyn lifted the beautiful head of the old 
 man to her arms, and putting back the abun 
 dant hair, kissed the closed eyes. They did 
 not open. 
 
 "He is very sleepy," she smiled. "I reckon 
 we will let him rest here. Sleep is good no 
 
 & 
 
 matter where we get it or how. Let him 
 sleep." 
 
 She replaced the old head on its arm upon 
 the table, and set me forth, once more, upon 
 my way a happier way, now. 
 
 And now, Dave, if you still live, and this 
 reaches you, come home ! 
 
 If you are dead and those live who know it, 
 send no message! 
 
 It is better so. Far, far better so. 
 
 THE END
 
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