'Bob!' he says, 'I've got my fiddle!'
"'Sure you have, old cock,' says I.
"'And my arm's as good as ever,' says he.
"'Sure it is! Better,' says I.
"'Listen!' says he.
"And I listened and--but you won't believe this part--"
"I will."
"Well, I heared him playin'! Not loud--not very near but so clear
not one of the Httlest, tinkly notes was lost. I never heard playin'
like that--no, mam! And the ward was still. I never heard the ward
still, like that. I think I went to sleep listenin'. I don't know."
The Sergeant broke off here long enough to deliver several orders--
all wrong. Desire waited quietly and presently he finished with a
jerk.
"When I woke up in the mornin', I was feelin' fine--fine. The first
thing I did was to look over to the next cot. But there was a screen
around it. . . . I ain't told the story to his folks because he
hasn't got any," he added after a pause. "And I kind of thought it
mightn't comfort his fiancy any--it not bein' personal, so to
speak."
Desire frankly wiped her eyes. (It was fortunate that no one saw her
do this.)
"It's a beautiful story," she said.
"Well, if you think I ought to tell, I will. But if his fiancy says,
'Was there any message?' hadn't I best put in a little one--
somethin' comforting?"
"Oh--no."
"All right. Couldn't I just say that at the end he called out
'Amelia!'?"
"Oh, Mr. Timms!"
"Not quite playin' the game, eh? Well, then I won't.
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