Read In Camp With A Tin Soldier Page 5


  CHAPTER V.

  THE MAJOR RETURNS.

  "Well," said Jimmieboy, as the major dismounted, "did you catch up withthem?"

  "No, I didn't," returned the major, evidently much excited. "I shouldhave caught them but for a dreadful encounter I had up the road, forbetween you and me, Jimmieboy, I have had a terrible adventure since Isaw you last, and the soldiers I went to order back have been destroyedto the very last man."

  "Dear me!" cried Jimmieboy. "I am glad I didn't go with you. Whathappened?"

  "I was attacked about four miles up the road by a tremendous sixty-poundQuandary, and I was nearly killed," said the major. "The soldiers hadonly got four and a half miles on their way, and hearing the disturbanceand my cries for help they hastened to the rescue, and were simplyan-ni-hi-lated, which is old English for all mashed to pieces."

  "But how did you escape?" said the boy.

  "Oh, I had a way, and it worked, that's all. I'm the safest soldier inthe world, I am. You can capture me eight times a day, but I am alwayssure to escape," said the major, proudly. "But, my dear general, how isit that you do not tremble? Are you not aware that under thecircumstances you ought to be a badly frightened warrior?"

  "I don't tremble, because I don't know whether you are telling the truthor not," said Jimmieboy. "Besides, I never saw a Quandary, and so Ican't tell how terrible he is. Is he dreadful?"

  "He's more than dreadful," returned the major. "No word of two syllablesexpresses his dreadfulness. He is simply calamitous; and if there was alonger word in the dictionary applying to his case I'd use it, if ittook all my front teeth out to say it."

  "That's all very well," said Jimmieboy, "but you can't make me shiverwith fear by saying he's calamitous. What does he do? Bite?"

  "Bite? Well, I guess not," answered the major, scornfully. "He doesn'tneed to bite. Would you bite an apple if you could swallow it whole?"

  "I think I would," said Jimmieboy. "How would I get the juice of it if Ididn't?"

  "You'd get just as much juice whether you bit it or not," snapped themajor, who did not at all like Jimmieboy's coolness under thecircumstances. "The Quandary doesn't bite anything, because his mouth isso large there isn't anything he can bite. He just takes you as youstand, gives a great gulp, and there you are."

  "Where?" queried Jimmieboy, who could not quite follow the major.

  "Wherever you happen to be, of course," said the major, gruffly. "Youaren't a very sharp general, it seems to me. You don't seem to be ableto see through a hole with a millstone in it. I have to explaineverything to you just as if you were a baby or a school-teacher, but Ican just tell you that if you ever were attacked by a Quandary youwouldn't like it much, and if he ever swallowed you you'd be a mightylonesome general for a little while. You'd be a regular land Jonah."

  "Don't get mad at me, major," said Jimmieboy, clapping his companion onthe back. "I'll be frightened if you want me to. Br-rr-rrr-rrr-rrrrr!There, is that the kind of a tremble you want me to have?"

  "Thank you, yes," the major replied, his face clearing and his smilereturning. "I am very much obliged; and now to show you that you haven'tmade any mistake in getting frightened, I'll tell you what a Quandaryis, and what he has done, and how I managed to escape; and as poetry isthe easiest method for me to express my thoughts with, I'll put it allin rhyme.

  "THE QUANDARY.

  He is a fearful animal, That quaint old Quandary-- A cousin of the tragical And whimsically magical Dilemma-bird is he.

  He has an eye that's wonderful-- 'Tis like a public school: It has a thousand dutiful, Though scarcely any beautiful, Small pupils 'neath its rule.

  And every pupil--marvelous Indeed, sir, to relate-- When man becomes contiguous, Makes certainty ambiguous-- Which is unfortunate.

  For when this ambiguity Has seized upon his prize, Whate'er man tries, to do it he Will find when he is through it, he Had best done otherwise.

  And hence it is this animal, Of which I sing my song, This creature reprehensible, Is held by persons sensible Responsible for wrong.

  So if a friend or foe you see Departing from his aim, Be full, I pray, of charity-- He may have met the Quandary, And so is not to blame."

  "That is very pretty," said Jimmieboy, as the major finished; "but, doyou know, major, I don't understand one word of it."

  Much to Jimmieboy's surprise the major was pleased at this remark.

  "Thank you, Jimmieboy," he said. "That proves that I am a true poet. Ithink there's some meaning in those lines, but it's so long since Iwrote them that I have forgotten exactly what I did mean, and it's thatvery thing that makes a poem out of the verses. Poetry is nothing butriddles in rhyme. You have to guess what is meant by the lines, and theharder that is, the greater the poem."

  "But I don't see much use of it," said Jimmieboy. "Riddles are funsometimes, but poetry isn't."

  "That's very true," said the major. "But poetry has its uses. If itwasn't for poetry, the poets couldn't make a living, or if they did,they'd have to go into some other business, and most other businessesare crowded as it is."

  "Do people ever make a living writing poetry?" Jimmieboy asked.

  "Once in a while. I knew a man once who did. He called himself theGrocer-Poet, because he was a grocer in the day-time and a poet atnight. He sold every poem he wrote, too," said the major.

  "To a newspaper?" asked Jimmieboy.

  "Oh, no," said the major. "He bought 'em from himself. When he'd wake upin the morning as a grocer he'd read what he had written the nightbefore as a poet, and then he'd buy the verses from himself and throwthem into the fire. But to return to the Quandary. He has awfully badmanners. He stares you right in the face whenever he meets you, and nomatter what you want to do he tries to force you to do the other thing.The only way to escape him is not to do anything, but go back where youstarted from, and begin all over again."

  "Where did you meet him?" asked Jimmieboy.

  "Where? Why, where he's always met, of course, at a fork in the road.That's where he gets in his fine work," said the major. "Suppose, forinstance, you were out for a stroll, and you thought you'd like togo--well, say to Calcutta. You stroll along, and you stroll along, andyou stroll along. Then you come to a place where the road splits, onehalf going to the right and one to the left, or, if you don't like rightand left, we'll say one going to Calcutta by way of Cape Horn, and theother going to Calcutta by way of Greenland's icy mountains."

  "It's a long walk either way," said Jimmieboy.

  "Yes. It's a walk that isn't often taken," assented the major, with aknowing shake of the head. "But at the fork of this road the Quandaryattacks you. He stops you and says, 'Which way are you going toCalcutta?' and you say, 'Well, as it is a warm day, I think I'll go byway of Greenland's icy mountains.' 'No,' says the Quandary, 'you won'tdo any such thing, because it may snow. You'd better go the other way.''Very well,' say you, 'I'll go the other way, then.' 'Why do you dothat?' queries the Quandary. 'If it should grow very warm you'd beroasted to death.' 'Then I don't know what to do,' say you. 'What is thematter with going both ways?' says the Quandary, to which you reply,'How can I do that?' 'Try it and see,' he answers. Then," continued themajor, his voice sinking to a whisper--"then you do try it and you dosee, unless you are a wise, sagacious, sapient, perspicacious, astute,canny, penetrating, needle-witted, learned man of wisdom like myself whoknows a thing or two. In that case you don't try, for you can seewithout trying that any man with two legs who tries to walk along tworoads leading in different directions at once is just going to splitinto at least two halves before he has gone twenty miles, and that isjust what the Quandary wants you to do, for it's over such horriblespectacles as a man divided against himself that he gloats, and when heis through gloating he swallows what's left."

  "And what does the wise, sagacious, sappy, perspiring man of wisdom likeyourself who knows
a thing or two do?" asked Jimmieboy.

  "I didn't say sappy or perspiring," retorted the major. "I said sapientand perspicacious."

  "Well, anyhow, what does he do?" asked Jimmieboy.

  "He gives up going to Calcutta," observed the major.

  "Oh, I see. To gain a victory over the Quandary you turn and run away?"asked Jimmieboy.

  "Yes, that's it. That's what saved me. I cried for help, turned about,and ran back here, and I can tell you it takes a brave man to turn hisback on an enemy," said the major.

  "And why didn't the soldiers do it too?" queried Jimmieboy.

  "There wasn't anybody to order a retreat, so when the Quandary attackedthem they marched right on, single file, and every one of 'em split intwo, fell in a heap, and died."

  "But I should think you would have ordered them to halt," insistedJimmieboy.

  "I had no power to do so," the major replied. "If I had only had thepower, I might have saved their lives by ordering them to march two bytwo instead of single file, and then when they met the Quandary theycould have gone right ahead, the left-hand men taking the left-handroad, the right-hand men the right, but of course I only had orders totell them to come back here, and a soldier can only obey his orders. Itwas awful the way those noble lives were sacrifi--"

  Here Jimmieboy started to his feet with a cry of alarm. There wereunmistakable sounds of approaching footsteps.

  "Somebody or something is coming," he cried.

  "Oh, no, I guess not," said the major, getting red in the face, for herecognized, as Jimmieboy did not, the firm, steady tread of thereturning soldiers whom he had told Jimmieboy the Quandary hadannihilated. "It's only the drum of your ear you hear," he added. "Youknow you have a drum in your ear, and every once in a while it beginsits rub-a-dub-dub just like any other drum. Oh, no, you don't hearanybody coming. Let's take a walk into the forest here and see if wecan't find a few pipe plants. I think I'd like to have a smoke."

  "Why, you naughty major!" cried Jimmieboy, shaking his arm, which hiscompanion had taken, free from the major's grasp. "You've been tellingme a great big fib, because there are the soldiers coming back again."

  "What!" ejaculated the major, in well-affected surprise. "Well, Ideclare! So they are. Dear me! Why, do you know, general, that is themost marvelous cure I ever saw in my life. To think that all those menwhom I saw not an hour ago lying dead on the field of battle, all readyfor the Quandary's luncheon, should have been resusitated in so short atime, as--"

  "Halt!" roared Jimmieboy, interrupting the major in a mostunceremonious fashion, for the soldiers by this time had reached a pointin the road directly opposite where he was sitting.

  The soldiers halted.

  "Break ranks!" cried Jimmieboy, after the corporal had told him theproper order to give next.

  The soldiers broke ranks, and in sheer weariness threw themselves downon the soft turf at the side of the road--all except the corporal, whoat Jimmieboy's request came and sat down at the general's side to makehis report.

  "This is fine weather we are having, corporal," said the major, winkingat the subordinate officer, and trying to make him understand that theless he said about the major the better it would be for all concerned.

  "Yes," returned the corporal. "Better for sleeping than for militaryduty, eh, major?"

  Here the major grew pale, but had the presence of mind to remark that hethought it might rain in time for tea.

  "There's something behind all this," thought Jimmieboy; "and I'm goingto know what it all means."

  Then he said aloud, "You have had a very speedy recovery, corporal."

  Here the major cleared his throat more loudly than usual, blushed rosyred, and winked twice as violently at the corporal as before.

  "Did you ever hear my poem on the 'Cold Tea River in China'?" he asked.

  "No," said the corporal, "I never did, and I never want to."

  "Then I will recite it for you," said the major.

  "After the corporal has made his report, major," said Jimmieboy.

  "It goes this way," continued the major, pretending not to hear.

  "Some years ago--'way back in '69--a Friend and I went for a trip through China, That pleasant land where rules King Tommy Chang, Where flows the silver river Yangtse-Wang-- Through fertile fields, through sweetest-scented bowers Of creeping vinous vines and floral flowers."

  "My dear major," interrupted Jimmieboy, "I do not want to hurt yourfeelings, but much as I like to hear your poetry I must listen to thereport of the corporal first."

  "Oh, very well," returned the major, observing that the corporal hadtaken to his heels as soon as he had begun to recite. "Very well. Letthe corporal proceed."

  Jimmieboy then saw for the first time that the corporal had fled.

  "Why, where is he?" he asked.

  "I do not know," returned the major, coldly. "I fancy he has gone to thekitchen to cook his report. He always goes off when I recite."

  "Oh, well, never mind," said Jimmieboy, noticing that the major wasevidently very much hurt. "Go on with the poem about 'Cold Tea River.'"

  "No, I shall not," replied the major. "I shall not do it for tworeasons, general, unless you as my superior officer command me to do it,and I hope you will not. In the first place, you have publiclyhumiliated me in the presence of a tin corporal, an inferior in rank,and consequently have hurt my feelings more deeply than you imagine. Iam not tall, sir, but my feelings are deep enough to be injured mostdeeply, and in view of that fact I prefer to say nothing more about thatpoem. The other reason is that there is really no such poem, becausethere is really no such a stream as Cold Tea River in China, thoughthere might have been had Nature been as poetic and fanciful as I, forit is as easy to conceive of a river having its source in the land ofthe tea-trees, and having its waters so full of the essence of teagained from contact with the roots of those trees, that to all intentsand purposes it is a river of tea. Had you permitted me to go onuninterrupted I should have made up a poem on that subject, and mightpossibly by this time have had it done, but as it is, it never will becomposed. If you will permit me I will take a horseback ride and see ifI cannot forget the trials of this memorable day. If I return I shall beback, but otherwise you may never see me again. I feel so badly overyour treatment of me that I may be rash enough to commit suicide byjumping into a smelting-pot and being moulded over again into a piece ofshot, and if I do, general, if I do, and if I ever get into battle andam fired out of a gun, I shall seek out that corporal, and use my bestefforts to amputate his head off so quickly that he won't know what hashappened till he tries to think, and finds he hasn't anything to do itwith."

  Breathing which horrible threat, the major mounted his horse andgalloped madly down the road, and Jimmieboy, not knowing whether to besorry or amused, started on a search for the corporal in order that hemight hear his report, and gain, if possible, some solution of themajor's strange conduct.