第87章

But now I have better things to write of'things that have some relish of good in them. I was very weak and low from loss of blood for days, and, suddenly, the tide turned. I had won recognition for distinguished gallantry they told me - that day they took me to Washington. I lay three weeks there in the hospital. As soon as they heard of my misfortune at home Uncle Eb wrote he was coming to see me. I stopped him by a telegram, assuring him that I was nearly well and would be home shortly.

My term of enlistment had expired when they let me out a fine day in mid August. I was going home for a visit as sound as any man but, in the horse talk of Faraway, I had a little 'blemish'on the left shoulder. Uncle Eb was to meet me at the jersey City depot.

Before going I, with others who had been complimented for bravery, went to see the president. There were some twenty of us summoned to meet him that day. It was warm and the great Lincoln sat in his shirt-sleeves at a desk in the middle of his big office. He wore a pair of brown carpet slippers, the rolling collar and black stock now made so familiar in print. His hair was tumbled. He was writing hurriedly when we came in. He laid his pen away and turned to us without speaking. There was a careworn look upon his solemn face.

'Mr President,'said the general, who had come with us, 'here are some of the brave men of our army, whom you wished to see.

He came and shook hands with each and thanked us in the name of the republic, for the example of courage and patriotism we and many others had given to the army. He had a lean, tall, ungraceful figure and he spoke his mind without any frill or flourish. He said only a few words of good plain talk and was done with us.

'Which is Brower?'he enquired presently.

I came forward more scared than ever I had been before.

'My son,'he said, taking my hand in his, 'why didn t you run?'

'Didn't dare,'I answered. 'I knew it was more dangerous to run away than to go forward.'

'Reminds me of a story,'said he smiling. 'Years ago there was a bully in Sangamon County, Illinois, that had the reputation of running faster and fighting harder than any man there. Everybody thought he was a terrible fighter. He d always get a man on the run; then he d ketch up and give him a licking. One day he tadded a lame man. The lame man licked him in a minute.

'"Why didn't ye run?" somebody asked the victor.

'"Didn't dast," said he. "Run once when he tackled me an I've been lame ever since."

"How did ye manage to lick him?" said the other.

'"Wall," said he, "I hed to, an'I done it easy."

'That's the way it goes,'said the immortal president, 'ye do it easy if ye have to.

He reminded me in and out of Horace Greeley, although they looked no more alike than a hawk and a handsaw. But they had a like habit of forgetting themselves and of saying neither more nor less than they meant. They both had the strength of an ox and as little vanity. Mr Greeley used to say that no man could amount to anything who worried much about the fit of his trousers; neither of them ever encountered that obstacle.

Early next morning I took a train for home. I was in soldier clothes I had with me no others - and all in my car came to talk with me about the now famous battle of Bull Run.

The big platform atjersey City was crowded with many people as we got off the train. There were other returning soldiers - some with crutches, some with empty sleeves.

A band at the further end of the platform was playing and those near me were singing the familiar music, 'John Brown's body lies a mouldering in the grave.

Somebody shouted my name. Then there rose a cry of three cheers for Brower. It's some of the boys of the Tribune, I thought - I could see a number of them in the crowd. One brought me a basket of flowers. I thought they were trying to have fun with me.

'Thank you!'said I, 'but what is the joke?'

'No joke,'he said. 'It's to honour a hero.'

'Oh, you wish me to give it to somebody.'

I was warming with embarrassment 'We wish you to keep it,'he answered.

In accounts of the battle I had seen some notice of my leading a charge but my fame had gone farther - much farther indeed - than I knew. I stood a moment laughing - an odd sort of laugh it was that had in it the salt of tears - and waving my hand to the many who were now calling my name.

In the uproar of cheers and waving of handkerchiefs I could not find Uncle Eb for a moment. When I saw him in the breaking crowd he was cheering lustily and waving his hat above his head.

His enthusiasm increased when I stood before him. As 1 was greeting him I heard a lively rustle of skirts. Two dainty, gloved hands laid hold of mine; a sweet voice spoke my name. There, beside me, stood the tall, erect figure of Hope. Our eyes met and, before there was any thinking of propriety, I had her in my arms and was kissing her and she was kissing me.

It thrilled me to see the splendour of her beauty that day; her eyes wet with feeling as they looked up at me; to feel again the trembling touch of her lips. In a moment I turned to Uncle Eb.

'Boy,'he said, 'I thought you'' and then he stopped and began brushing his coat sleeve.

'Come on now,'he added as he took my grip away from me. 'We re goin't'hey a gran'good time. I ll take ye all to a splendid tavern somewheres. An'I ain't goin'if count the cost nuther.

He was determined to carry my grip for me. Hope had a friend with her who was going north in the morning on our boat. We crossed the ferry and took a Broadway omnibus, while query followed query.

'Makes me feel like a flapjack t'ride 'n them things,'said Unde Eb as we got out.

He hired a parlour and two bedrooms for us all at the St Nicholas.

'Purty middlin'steep!'he said to me as we left the office. 'It is, sartin! but I don't care - not a bit. When folks has if hey a good time they ve got t'hey it.