Then
dropping again into his chair, and resting his head upon his hand, he
assumed a look of patient resignation.
Windy McPherson was victorious. In the little house a great stir and
bustle of preparation arose. Putting on his white overalls and forgetting
for the time his honourable wounds the father went day after day to his
work as a housepainter. He dreamed of a new blue uniform for the great day
and in the end achieved the realisation of his dreams, not however without
material assistance from what was known in the house as "Mother's Wash
Money." And the boy, convinced by the story of the midnight attack in the
woods of Virginia, began against his judgment to build once more an old
dream of his father's reformation. Boylike, the scepticism was thrown to
the winds and he entered with zeal into the plans for the great day. As he
went through the quiet residence streets delivering the late evening
papers, he threw back his head and revelled in the thought of a tall blue-
clad figure on a great white horse passing like a knight before the gaping
people. In a fervent moment he even drew money from his carefully built-up
bank account and sent it to a firm in Chicago to pay for a shining new
bugle that would complete the picture he had in his mind.
Pages:
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41