The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 17 August 1911, Page 1555

The Storyteller

RANSOM'S

(Concluded from last week.)

' "You'll fetch it, Adelaide," pa said, when the train whistled, and he had to get off. " Good-bye! God bless you!" , ■

' Everybody was kind to Mary and me. When the conductor found I was going to . Washington, he began to ask me questions, and before I knew it, I found myself telling him the whole story. He had a boy in the army, and he seemed to know just how I felt. He lived in Washington, and when we got in late at night, he made us go home with him. His wife made us welcome. I'll never forget her. ' Early the next morning we went up to the Capitol. Mr. Torrey—that was the conductor's name—with us. As early as it was, there were a lot of people waiting, and most of them looked as if they had their share of troubles, too. Mr. Torrey seemed to know a good many men. I suppose they, go up and down on his train often. . He spoke to one big man, who was going in to the inner room. The man looked at f me, sort of keen-like, then he said, "I'll tell Mr. Lincoln." Then he went on. 5

' I couldn't keep my eye off that door. Sometimes it would be awfully quiet in there; then again I'd hear somebody laughing. After a time the big man came out. He was chuckling to himself as if he had heard something mighty funny. He nearly went by us; then he seemed to remember, and he turned to me. " The President will see you, madam," he said; then he went up and held the door open. ' Mary held on to my hand as tight as if she never meant to let go, and I felt my own heart beating pretty fast; but I just thought of John, and how I must get the papers. When we went in, the President was standing, looking out of the window, with his hands in his pockets. He turned round, and when I saw his face all my fear left me. It was so sort of homely and good and kind. He just made me think of our own Maine folks. He's a good deal like pa, only I guess maybe pa's better-looking. _'He came over and shook hands with me, then he motioned me to a chair. Mary stood looking at him doubtfully for a moment, then all at once she, Smiled up at him. He leaned over and lifted her orchis lap, and in a minute they were talking away as if they'd known each other, all their life. I heard her telling him about her kittens.' * ' ' He likes kittens,' interpolated Mary, c the President does, and he likes little girls, too. He hasn't any, though; his little girls are all boys. He told me so, and I told him about daddy, and then he and mother talked.' ' I told him all about your war record, John,' said Adelaide, ' and then I gave him Miss Eliot's letter. He read it carefully, looked sort of thoughtful, then he rang a bell, and a young fellow with spectacles came in.

"Look through the files," said Mr. Lincoln, " and see what you can find about John Ransom, 42nd Maine." His tone was real curt. *

' Pretty soon the young man came back with a slip of paper in his hand. " John Ransom, 42nd Maine, Army of the Potomac; in hospital at Fernandina; made application some months ago for his discharge papers; several letters about, him." He recited it all off as if he were saying a lesson. ' If the record's right, why hasn't the matter been attended to?' said the President. • "We haven't got round to it,' said the young fellow, his face getting red. "We're just working on the J's." J s

' "A man's life can't go according to the alphabet," said Mr. Lincoln. "Make out the papers at once, and send them this afternoon to Mrs. Ransom at " He looked at me, and I told him where I was staying. 'All of a sudden he kind of laughed; then he looked at me over his spectacles. "How would you

like to take the papers to your husband yourself ?" he said. "There's a gunboat going down to-morrow." ' I just looked at him. I couldn't say a word, and he smiled. Reckon it would be a good thing," he said, "and I don't know but that it would be the surest way of getting them there." He wrote a few words on a piece of paper, signed his name, and , gave the paper to me. Then he held out his hand. I couldn't say anything but "God bless you!" but he seemed to understand. Mary. piped up, "Good-bye, Mr. President!" He took her up in his arms and kissed her, and she put her arms round his neck, just as she does round pa's, and said, "I like you, Mr. President," and he. laughed again. ..' "And I like you, Mary, so I reckon it's mutual." Then we came away.

1 That afternoon a messenger brought the papers, and the next morning Lieutenant Callahan came to take us to the boat. He was the one who came up with us this morning.' ' That was Jerry,' said Mary, gravely. 'He told me to call him that.'

' I can't tell you,' went on Adelaide, ' what a relief it was when I actually held that envelope in my hand. Then my only thought was to get to Fernandina. We made a quick trip, they said, but it seemed so long to me, for I didn't know ' She stopped, her gray eyes meeting Ransom's with ineffable tenderness. When Ransom was carried down stairs that afternoon, all the household. had gathered to bid him Godspeed; but his last words and last glance were for Miss Eliot. As he bade her good-bye he placed in her hand the li.ttle carved wooden case. The tears were streaming down his cheeks. ' I hope it will be made up to you,' he said. Mary departed, jubilantly perched on the shoulder of the gay young lieutenant, and Adelaide's face was wonderful in its new-found happiness. On the porch the nurse stood long, watching the boat which was bearing Ransom toward home and health. At last, with a little smile, she went slowly into the house, and up into the east corner room.