Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 265, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 November 1915 — THE OLD UNIFORM [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE OLD UNIFORM

By CHARLES FRASER ROSS.

The great pride in life of Jed Robinson was that his uncle Abner had been a soldier and a brave one. It was at Pea Ridge that the now old man had saved the colors of his company through an act of unusual heroism and had won distinguished notice. Shortly after Uncle Abner came home at the cessation of hostilities, the widowed mother of Jed died. Uncle Abner was a confirmed bachelor. His brother had left nothing. Abner himself owned a little forty-acre plot of ground along the river Just outside the town. He ran up a shack, made its interior as comfortable as his limited means would allow and adopted Jed.

It proved a poor possession, and with the exception of about one-twen-tieth of its area the land was barren as a gravel pit. It seemed as though in some original glacial convulsion nature had made a dumping ground of this convenient and selected spot to pile up all the mongrel tailings of heterogeneous mineral veins. Dig where you would, the pick or shovel was sure to strike coal, or pyrites, or asbestos in masses that suggested the ground-off product of enormous rocks that had passed over the district in remote centuries of the world’s geological travail. Uncle Abner did his rail duty by Jed and kept him at school until he was eighteen. By that time the old man had become Incapacitated for work. Jed gladly took up the burden of caring for the little patch of ground. The vegetable garden, a few cattle and the sale of gravel and sand to district contractors and the railroad

companies brought in a steady, though meager income, barely enough to subsist on. To make matters worse, in order that Jed might have an education his uncle had mortgaged the little place. It was only by exercising the strictest economy that Jed could manage to make accounts even up. Finally Uncle Abner took a whim into his head. Fifty miles away there was a soldiers* home. He startled Jed one day by announcing that he was going there. "I’m welcome there. I have a right to go there," he told his sorrowful nephew. "Here’s the point, lad: It’s easier to feed one mouth than two. Let me have about a year or two with my old comrades, meantime reaching out for the new pension increase. You work nard, and between us we’ll get the place free and clear and I’ll come back." A lonely life began for Jed. It had one bright spot. Once a week he went to the village church, once a month to the church social, and on each occasion he met Nettie Wilder. It went no further than a mutually pleasant acquaintanceship, but Jed cherished hopes of the future when better times came along. Four times a year Uncle Abner came home for a week. These companionable visits Jed looked forward to with sincere longing pleasure. Such an occasion he was anticipating one’ evening, when there was a knock at the door and a bluff, hearty voice sang out: “Open up, there—l’m nigh perished with the chilling blast!" “Why, Frank Wil er!” greeted Jed, as he opened the door to welcome Nettie’s brother. “Yes, Tm down from the city for a week, got lonesome and thought a chat with an old friend would do me good.” Jed made his visitor fully comfortable. He piled the wood into the broad open fireplace, got out a pitcher of prime home cider and some walnuts and maple sugar. “I say,” finally observed Frank, “why don’t you come down to the house once in awhile?” “I—l’ve been pretty busy getting things shipshape for the winter," rather lamely explained Jed, flushing up. “Especially the last month, for uncle Is coming on his regular quarterly visit, you see.” “Well, Nettie invited you to her birthday party and was quite put out 'because you did not come. Hello!” Frank gave a start and a stare at something be had not noticed before —a figure standing in the dim corner of the room. Jed was grateful that

the conversation had changed. He could not very well explain to his friend that grinding poverty had not admitted of his buying a decent suit of clothes for over two years, and the old ones were not presentable for a social function. “Why, yes,” he hastened to say, arising and taxing up the lamp and illuminating the obscure corner of the room. “It’s uncle’s old uniformstuffed.” "I declare!” remarked Frank in genuine admiration. “It looks fine. Talk about old armor —here’s the real thing—something timely and natural! With that old gun and the flag spread above the uniform, one mighty fancy old Uncle Abner was about to spring out in the full glory of the battlefield.” , . “I thought it might please him,” said Jed. “I stuffed the coat with straw and the rest of it with sand. I’m proud of Uncle Abner, I can tell you, Frank,” continued Jed. “Who wouldn’t be?” replied Frank. “I hope he’ll make his visit while I’m here.” “Oh, yes, he is due to arrive day after tomorrow,” declared Jed. “I’d Just love to have him once more go over that splendidly thrilling story of how he saved the day at Pea Ridge. I say, Jed, I’ll come Saturday evening, and I’ll bring Nettle. You know your uncle always made a pet of her.” Jed fluttered like a timid school child. To see Nettle again—to have her under the same roof! How he polished up the old tinware the next day! How he planned a meal out of the ordinary for those cherished guests, and when his uncle arrived the old fellow was wild with delight to give his favorite a glad reception. Frank Wilder was a mining engineer in the city and an agreeable and instructive talker. Both Ned and his uncle were arrayed in their best and the house spick and span when, Saturday afternoon, Nettie and her brother drove up from their home, five miles distant. Nettle was ardent in her praises of the orderliness and system of this typical bachelor’s hall. She insisted on helping Jed prepare the meal. It was the happiest moment of his life, to view her dainty figure flitting about the kitchen, keeping up a string of pretty talk, all charming nothingness, but the sweetest of music to his eager ears. It was after supper that Uncle Abner, in fine spirits, was induced to recite the Pea Ridge incident. In his excitement he used an old saber to illustrate an onslaught on the enemy. Alas! as an accidental swoop and dip came, the steel blade swept across the knees of the sand-padded uniform. A black flood poured forth. All hands laughed at the ludicrous Incident. “Why, where did you get this stuff?” suddenly inquired Frank, who had casually picked up a handful of the sand. “The hill is full of it,” explained Jed. "Sort of iron pyrites, isn’t it?” “Pyrites!” shouted Frank, quite excited. “Why, it’s tungsten, a good quality, too—used for hardening steel and worth fifty cents a unit.” “What’s a unit?” propounded Uncle Abner. “Twenty pounds.” “Why, we’ve got tons of it!” “Then you’re rich!” declared Frank. "I’m chemist enough to know the value of this stuff.” His opinion was correct and within a week brought results. A steel company bought the old place for a big sum and Uncle Abner did not have to go back to the Soldiers’ home. They built a new house and Frank was a welcome visitor, and Nettie, too. And finally, in the course of time Nettie came to the home to stay and help Jed do the cooking for the rest of his life. (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.)

“I’m Welcome There.”