Patchwork | Page 9

you can eat," she added as she noted the child's
abstracted look.
"No--I was thinkin'--I was just thinkin' what a funny name Nason is,
like you tried to say Nathan and got your tongue twisted."
"It's a real name, but you must forget all about it."
"If I can. Sometimes Aunt Maria tells me to forget things, like wantin'
curls and fancy things and pretty dresses but I don't see how I can
forget when I remember, do you?"
"It's hard," Granny said, a deeper meaning in her words than the child
could comprehend. "It's the hardest thing in the world to forget what
you want to forget. But here comes Aaron----"
"Well, well, if here ain't Phoebe Metz with her eyes shining and a pink
rose pinned to her waist and matching the roses in her cheeks!" the old
soldier said as he joined the two under the arbor. "Whew! Mebbe it
ain't hot hoeing potatoes!"
"You're all heated up, Aaron," said Granny. His fifteen years seniority
warranted a solicitous watchfulness over him, she thought. "Now you
get cooled off a little and I'll make some lemonade. It'll taste good to
me and Phoebe, too."
"All right, Ma," Aaron sighed in relaxation. "You know how to touch
the spot. Did you tell Phoebe about the flag?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I think it's fine!" cried the child. "I can't wait till all the flowers
bloom. I want to see it."
"You'll see it," promised the man. "And you bring all the boys and girls

in too."
"And then will you tell us about the war and the Battle of Gettysburg?
David Eby says he heard you once tell about it. I think it was at some
school celebration. And he says it was grand, just like being there
yourself."
"A little safer," laughed the old soldier. "But, yes, when the poppies
bloom you bring the children in and I'll tell you about the war and the
flag."
"I'll remember. I love to hear about the war. Old Johnny Schlegelmilch
from way up the country comes to our place still to sell brooms, and
once last summer he came and it began to thunder and storm and pop
said he shall stay till it's over and then he told me all about the war. He
said our flag's the prettiest in the whole world."
"So it is," solemnly affirmed Old Aaron.
"I wonder if anybody it belongs to could help liking it," said the child,
remembering Granny's words.
"Well," the veteran answered slowly, "I knew a young fellow once, a
nice fellow he seemed, too, and his father a soldier who fought for the
flag. Well, the father was always talking about the flag and what it
means and how every man should be ready to fight for it. And one day
the boy said that he would never fight for it and be shot to pieces, that
the old flag made him sick, and one soldier in the family was enough."
"Oh!" Phoebe opened her eyes wide in surprise and horror.
"And the father told the boy," the old man went on in a fixed voice as
though the veriest details of the story were vividly before him, "that if
he would not take back those words he never wanted to see him again.
It was better to have no son, than such a son, a coward who hated the
flag."
Here Granny appeared with the lemonade and the story was abruptly

ended. Phoebe refrained from questioning the man about the story but
as she sat under the arbor and afterwards, as she started up the street of
the little town, she wondered over and over how a boy could be the son
of a soldier and hate the flag, and whether the story Old Aaron told her
was the story of himself and Nason.
CHAPTER III
LITTLE DUTCHIE
"AUNT MARIA said I dare look around a little," thought Phoebe as
she neared the big store on the Square. Her heart beat more quickly as
she turned the knob of the heavy door--little things still thrilled her,
going to the store in Greenwald was an event!
The clerk's courteous, "What can I do for you?" bewildered her for an
instant but she swallowed hard and said, "Why, we want twenty pounds
of granulated sugar; ourn is almost all and Aunt Maria wants to make
some strawberry jelly to-morrow. She said for Jonas to fetch it along on
his home road."
"All right. Out to Jacob Metz?"
"Yes, he's my pop."
"I see. Anything else?"
"Three spools white thread, number fifty."
"Anything else?"
She shook her head as she handed him the money. "No, that's all for
to-day. But Aunt Maria said I dare look around a little if I don't touch
things."
"Look