was sad; ... but I speak not the English;?So! ... she stay here, and she wait for her husband?He come no more, and she sleep on the hillside;
There stands Pachita.
Ah! there's the Angelus. Will you not enter??Or shall you walk in the garden with Pancha??Go, little rogue--stt--attend to the stranger.
Adios, Se?or.
Pachita (briskly).
So, he's been telling that yarn about mother!?Bless you, he tells it to every stranger:?Folks about yer say the old man's my father;
What's your opinion?
The Old Major Explains.
(Re-Union Army of the Potomac, 12th May, 1871.)
"Well, you see, the fact is, Colonel, I don't know as I can come: For the farm is not half planted, and there's work to do at home; And my leg is getting troublesome,--it laid me up last fall, And the doctors, they have cut and hacked, and never found the ball.
"And then, for an old man like me, it's not exactly right,?This kind o' playing soldier with no enemy in sight.?'The Union,'--that was well enough way up to '66;?But this 'Re-Union,'--maybe now it's mixed with politics?
"No? Well, you understand it best; but then, you see, my lad, I'm deacon now, and some might think that the example's bad. And week from next is Conference.... You said the 12th of May? Why, that's the day we broke their line at Spottsylvan-i-a!
"Hot work; eh, Colonel, wasn't it? Ye mind that narrow front: They called it the 'Death-Angle!' Well, well, my lad, we won't Fight that old battle over now: I only meant to say?I really can't engage to come upon the 12th of May.
"How's Thompson? What! will he be there? Well, now, I want to know! The first man in the rebel works! they called him 'Swearing Joe:' A wild young fellow, sir, I fear the rascal was; but then-- Well, short of heaven, there wa'n't a place he dursn't lead his men.
"And Dick, you say, is coming too. And Billy? ah! it's true We buried him at Gettysburg: I mind the spot; do you??A little field below the hill,--it must be green this May;?Perhaps that's why the fields about bring him to me to-day.
"Well, well, excuse me, Colonel! but there are some things that drop The tail-board out one's feelings; and the only way's to stop. So they want to see the old man; ah, the rascals! do they, eh? Well, I've business down in Boston about the 12th of May."
"Seventy-Nine"
Mr. Interviewer Interviewed.
Know me next time when you see me, won't you, old smarty??Oh, I mean you, old figger-head,--just the same party!?Take out your pensivil, d--n you; sharpen it, do!?Any complaints to make? Lots of 'em--one of 'em's you.
You! who are you, anyhow, goin' round in that sneakin' way? Never in jail before, was you, old blatherskite, say??Look at it; don't it look pooty? Oh, grin, and be d--d to you, do! But, if I had you this side o' that gratin', I'd just make it lively
for you.
How did I get in here? Well, what 'ud you give to know??'Twasn't by sneakin' round where I hadn't no call to go.?'Twasn't by hangin' round a spyin' unfortnet men.?Grin! but I'll stop your jaw if ever you do that agen.
Why don't you say suthin', blast you? Speak your mind if you dare. Ain't I a bad lot, sonny? Say it, and call it square.?Hain't got no tongue, hey, hev ye. O guard! here's a little swell, A cussin' and swearin' and yellin', and bribin' me not to tell.
There, I thought that 'ud fetch ye. And you want to know my name? "Seventy-Nine" they call me; but that is their little game. For I'm werry highly connected, as a gent, sir, can understand; And my family hold their heads up with the very furst in the land.
For 'twas all, sir, a put-up job on a pore young man like me; And the jury was bribed a puppos, and aftdrst they couldn't agree. And I sed to the judge, sez I,--Oh, grin! it's all right my son! But you're a werry lively young pup, and you ain't to be played upon!
Wot's that you got--tobacco? I'm cussed but I thought 'twas a tract. Thank ye. A chap t'other day--now, look'ee, this is a fact, Slings me a tract on the evils o' keepin' bad company,?As if all the saints was howlin' to stay here along's we.
No: I hain't no complaints. Stop, yes; do you see that chap,-- Him standin' over there,--a hidin' his eves in his cap??Well, that man's stumick is weak, and he can't stand the pris'n fare; For the coffee is just half beans, and the sugar ain't no where.
Perhaps it's his bringin' up; but he sickens day by day,?And he doesn't take no food, and I'm seein' him waste away. And it isn't the thing to see; for, whatever he's been and done, Starvation isn't the plan
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