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Updated: June 27, 2025
The Orderly, who happened to be near, took Si by the ear and marched him up to the Captain's quarters. "Have him carry a rail in front of my tent for an hour!" thundered the Captain. "Don't let it be a splinter, either; pick out a good, heavy one. And, Orderly, detail a guard to keep Mr. Klegg moving."
"Not by 40 rows o' apple trees it ain't," said Si, stepping back a little to get a better range, and fixing his bayonet. "I've set my heart on takin' you back to Co. Q, an' back to Co. Q you'll go, if Si Klegg knows himself." "And you'll go in a hurry, too," said Shorty. "It's gettin' late, and I'm always afraid to be out after dark. Mosey, now!"
Klegg did not like the tone nor the manner, but he produced his tobacco, and began prudently clipping off a fair-sized chew for his companion him self. "O, the devil, that ain't no chaw," said the other, pulling the tobacco and knife from his hand. "Don't be stingy with your terbaker, old Hawbuck. You kin git plenty more."
"To think that you were going to do it and never said a word! You are a little thin, but except for that you look you look better than ever. Was it VERY horrible? I tried to get into the police-court, but the crowd was ever so much too big, push as I would.... "I mean to go to prison directly the session is over," said Miss Klegg.
Harry Joslyn whipped around and took his stand on the right of Gid Mackall. "Here," protested Gid; "Sargint Klegg told me to stand on the right. You're smaller'n me. Git on the other side." "I won't do it," answered Harry. "I've always stood ahead o' you in school, ever since we were in the primer class, and I aint goin' to stand behind you in the army.
Shorty had been strictly abstinent since his return from Indiana, The rigid views of the Klegg family as to liquor-drinking had sunk into his heart, and somehow whenever temptation came his way the clear, far-seeing eyes of Maria would intervene with such a reproachful glance that the thought of yielding became repugnant.
I arrested the other one, too, but he slipped away in the row this man made to distract our attention." In the meantime Deacon Klegg had gotten his carpetsack open for the General's inspection. It was a sorry sight inside. Butter, honey, shirts, socks, boots, and cakes are excellent things taken separately, but make a bad mixture. Deacon Klegg looked very dejected. The rest grinned broadly.
But somehow since he had known Maria there had risen in his mind a repugnance to that way of procuring things. It was not in accordance with Klegg ideas. He sat down and pondered on other methods. He went over and talked to the Sergeant in charge, an old acquaintance, but the Sergeant was obdurate. "No, sir. Can't let one of 'em go on no account," said the Sergeant firmly.
She was not more than half convinced, but unhooked her dress and took a note from her bosom, which she stuck out toward Si, holding tightly on to one end in the meanwhile. Si read, in Levi Rosenbaum's flourishing, ornate handwriting: "Corporal Josiah Klegg, Co. Q, 200th Indiana Volunteers, in Camp on Duck River." "That means me," said Si, taking hold of the end of the envelope.
He thought slowly and doggedly, but when he had arrived at a conclusion there were 200 pounds of solid, stubborn unchangeable Indiana farmer behind the conclusion. "What is it, father?" asked Mrs. Klegg, making an automatic effort to gather up her lost stitches. "I've a good mind to go down to Murfreesboro' and see Si," responded the father. "Why, father!" gasped the three "wimmen folks."
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