Miss Mink's Soldier and Other Stories

								

Lincoln's first call for volunteers and given his left arm for his
country.
But the enemy to-night was mysterious, crafty, one that might come in
the twinkling of an eye, and a sentry at seventy is not what he was at
twenty-two. When the doctor arrived in the morning he found the old man
haggard with fatigue.
"This won't do, Mr. Hawkins," he said kindly; "you must get some rest."
"Be she goin' to die?" Pop demanded, steadying himself by a chair.
"It is too soon to tell," the doctor said evasively; "but I'll say this
much, her pulse is better than I expected. Now, go get some sleep."
Half an hour later a strange rumbling sound puzzled the nurses in Ward
B. It came at regular intervals, rising from a monotonous growl to a
staccato, then dying away in a plaintive diminuendo. It was not until
one of the nurses needed clean sheets that the mystery was explained. On
the floor of the linen closet, stretched on his back with his carpet
sack under his head and his empty sleeve across his chest, lay Pop!
From that time on the old mountaineer became a daily problem to Ward B.
It is true, he agreed in time to go home at night with the orderly; but
by six in the morning he was sitting on the hospital steps, impatiently
awaiting admission. The linen closet was still regarded by him as his
private apartment, to which he repaired at such times as he could not
stay in Sally's room, and refreshed himself with the luncheon he brought
with him each day.
During the first week, when the girl's life hung in the balance, he was
granted privileges which he afterward refused to relinquish. The
hospital confines, after the freedom of the hills, chafed him sorely. As
the days grew warmer he discarded his coat, collar, and at times his
shoes.
"I 'low I'm goin' to tek Sal home next week!" became his daily threat.
But the days and weeks slipped by, and still the girl lay with a low,
consuming fever, and still Pop watched by her side, showing her no
affection by word or gesture but serving her and anticipating her every
want with a thoroughness that left little for the nurses to do.
In some way Miss Fletcher had gained his confidence. To her he intrusted
the bills which he ripped from his coat at the end of each week with the
instruction that she "pay off them boys down in the office fa'r an'
squar', but not to 'low 'em to cheat her." It may have been her growing
interest in the invalid that won his favor, for she came in often to
chat awhile with Sally and sometimes brought up a handful of flowers to
brighten the sick room.
"She's getting better," she said one morning as she held the girl's big
bony hand and looked down at the thin bright face in its frame of
shining hair. "We'll have her sitting up now before long."
Pop's whole aspect brightened.
"Ef Sal onct begins to git well, can't none of 'em beat her," he said
proudly.
"Have you any other children?" Miss Fletcher asked.