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Wilson, Harry Leon, 1867-1939

"The Boss of Little Arcady"

He'd fallen there as if sleep had overtaken him on the march.
Our column had halted, and I went to him. It must have taken a full
minute for me to realize that this was dignified war and not the murder
of a boy in a homely gray uniform. When I did realize it, I was so
weakened that I broke down and cried. I was a private then. I covered
his face, and got up strong enough to assault two other privates who had
found my snivelling funny. One of them went to the field hospital, and I
went under arrest when I'd finished with the other. You ought to know,
Miss Caroline, that the sight of thousands of your other dead never
moved me to any merriment. I tried to be a good soldier, but I felt the
death pains of every fallen man I saw. I didn't stop to note the color
of his uniform. Miss Caroline--"
I waited until I had made her look at me.
"The war is over, you know. Suppose you forget me as a soldier and take
me as a man. Really, I believe we ought to know each other better."
Clem had once found occasion to say, "When Miss Cahline tek th' notion
to shine huh eyes up, she sho' is a highly illuminous puhsonality."
I saw then what he meant, for Miss Caroline had "shined" her eyes, and
they flooded me with a distracting medley of lights.


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