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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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The friend put his hand up to his mouth and coughed again. He fidgeted in his jacket. "Well," he gulped, at last, "I guess yeh might as well give me back them letters." Dark, prick- ling blood had flushed into his cheeks and brow. "All right, Wilson," said the youth. He loosened two buttons of his coat, thrust in his hand, and brought forth the packet. As he ex- tended it to his friend the latter's face was turned from him. He had been slow in the act of producing the packet because during it he had been trying to invent a remarkable comment upon the affair. He could conjure nothing of sufficient point. He was compelled to allow his friend to escape unmolested with his packet. And for this he took unto himself considerable credit. It was a generous thing. His friend at his side seemed suffering great shame. As he contemplated him, the youth felt his heart grow more strong and stout. He had never been compelled to blush in such manner for his acts; he was an individual of extraordi- nary virtues. He reflected, with condescending pity: "Too bad! Too bad! The poor devil, it makes him feel tough!" After this incident, and as he reviewed the battle pictures he had seen, he felt quite com- petent to return home and make the hearts of the people glow with stories of war. He could see himself in a room of warm tints telling tales to listeners. He could exhibit laurels. They were insignificant; still, in a district where laurels were infrequent, they might shine. He saw his gaping audience picturing him as the central figure in blazing scenes. And he |
