United States or Liechtenstein ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Mayhall Wells, beaten, disgraced, driven from home on charge of petty crimes, of which he was undoubtedly guilty, but for which Bill knew he himself was responsible Mayhall on his way into exile and still persuading himself and, at that moment, almost persuading him that he meant to pay that little debt of long ago was too much for Flitter Bill, and he proceeded to lie lying with deliberation and pleasure.
"Marse Bill say he ain't gwine to sen' you no mo' rations no mo'." "What!" Tallow Dick repeated his message and the captain scowled mutiny! "Fetch my hoss!" he thundered. Very naturally and very swiftly had the trouble come, for straight after the captain's fight with Hence Sturgill there had been a mighty rally to the standard of Mayhall Wells.
But Mayhall breathed hard and said quietly: "Captain Wells!": Hence shouted, "Plain ole " But the captain's huge fist was poised in the air over his face. "Captain Wells," he growled, and the captain rose and calmly put on his coat, while the crowd looked respectful, and Hence Sturgill staggered to one side, as though beaten in spirit, strength, and wits as well.
Mayhall handed it back. "If you please, Misto Richmond I left my specs at home." Without a smile, Bill began.
He roared like a bull as soon as the teeth met in his flesh, his fingers relaxed, and to the disgusted surprise of everybody he began to roar with great distinctness and agony: "'Nough! 'Nough!" The end was come, and nobody knew it better than Mayhall Wells. He rode home that night with hands folded on the pommel of his saddle and his beard crushed by his chin against his breast.
The parson was returning from Cumberland Gap, whither he had gone to take the oath of allegiance. "By the way, I have something here for you which Flitter Bill asked me to give you. He said it was from the commandant at Cumberland Gap." "Fer me?" asked the captain hope springing anew in his heart. The parson handed him a letter. Mayhall looked at it upside down.
For the last time, next morning he rode down to Flitter Bill's store. On the way he met Parson Kilburn and for the last time Mayhall Wells straightened his shoulders and for one moment more resumed his part: perhaps the parson had not heard of his fall. "Good-mornin', parsing," he said, pleasantly. "Ah where have you been?"
Bill spelled out the name: "Jefferson Davis" and Mayhall's big fingers trembled as he pulled them away, as though to avoid further desecration of that sacred name. Then he rose, and a magical transformation began that can be likened I speak with reverence to the turning of water into wine. Captain Mayhall Wells raised his head, set his chin well in, and kept it there.
That day Captain Mayhall Wells and the Army of the Callahan were in disrepute. Next day the awful news of Lee's surrender came. Captain Wells refused to believe it, and still made heroic effort to keep his shattered command together. Looking for recruits on Court Day, he was twitted about the rout of the army by Hence Sturgill, whose long-coveted chance to redeem himself had come.
So that, in the whole man, a sensitive observer would have felt a peculiar pathos, as though nature had given him a desire to be, and no power to become, and had then sent him on his zigzag way, never to dream wherein his trouble lay. "Mornin', gentlemen!" "Mornin', Mayhall!"
Word Of The Day