the americanization of edward bok-第87部分

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　tears　she　placed　both　of　her　hands　on　the　boy's　shoulders　and　said　to　him：　〃I　am　so　sorry；　my　boy。　I　cannot　understand　a　word　you　say　to　me。　You　evidently　do　not　know　that　I　am　totally　deaf。　Won't　you　write　what　you　want　to　tell　me？〃

A　look　of　deepest　compassion　swept　the　face　of　the　boy。　To　think　that　one　could　be　so　afflicted；　and　yet　so　beautifully　tender　and　always　so　radiantly　cheerful；　he　wrote　her。

Pathos　and　humor　followed　rapidly　one　upon　the　other　〃at　the　front〃　in　those　gruesome　days；　and　Bok　was　to　have　his　spirits　lightened　somewhat　by　an　incident　of　the　next　day。　He　found　himself　in　one　of　the　numerous　little　towns　where　our　doughboys　were　billeted；　some　in　the　homes　of　the　peasants；　others　in　stables；　barns；　outhouses；　lean…tos；　and　what　not。　These　were　the　troops　on　their　way　to　the　front　where　the　fighting　in　the　Argonne　Forest　was　at　that　time　going　on。　As　Bok　was　walking　with　an　American　officer；　the　latter　pointed　to　a　doughboy　crossing　the　road；　followed　by　as　disreputable　a　specimen　of　a　pig　as　he　had　ever　seen。　Catching　Bok's　smile；　the　officer　said：　〃That's　Pinney　and　his　porker。　Where　you　see　the　one　you　see　the　other。〃

Bok　caught　up　with　the　boy；　and　said：　〃Found　a　friend；　I　see；　Buddy？〃

〃I　sure　have；〃　grinned　the　doughboy；　〃and　it　sticks　closer　than　a　poor　relation；　too。〃

〃Where　did　you　pick　it　up？〃

〃Oh；　in　there；〃　said　the　soldier；　pointing　to　a　dilapidated　barn。

〃Why　in　there？〃

〃My　home；〃　grinned　the　boy。

〃Let　me　see；〃　said　Bok；　and　the　doughboy　took　him　in　with　the　pig　following　close　behind。　〃Billeted　herebeen　here　six　days。　The　pig　was　here　when　we　came；　and　the　first　night　I　lay　down　and　slept；　it　came　up　to　me　and　stuck　its　snout　in　my　face　and　woke　me　up。　Kind　enough；　all　right；　but　not　very　comfortable：　it　stinks　so。〃

〃Yes；　it　certainly　does。　What　did　you　do？〃

〃Oh；　I　got　some　grub　I　had　and　gave　it　to　eat：　thought　it　might　be　hungry；　you　know。　I　guess　that　sort　of　settled　it；　for　the　next　night　it　came　again　and　stuck　its　snout　right　in　my　mug。　I　turned　around；　but　it　just　climbed　over　me　and　there　it　was。〃

〃Well；　what　did　you　do　then？　Chase　it　out？〃

〃Chase　it　out？〃　said　the　doughboy；　looking　into　Bok's　face　with　the　most　unaffected　astonishment。　〃Why；　mister；　that's　a　mother…pig；　that　is。　She's　going　to　have　young　ones　in　a　few　days。　How　could　I　chase　her　out？〃

〃You're　quite　right；　Buddy；〃　said　Bok。　〃You　couldn't　do　that。〃

〃Oh；　no；〃　said　the　boy。　〃The　worst　of　it　is；　what　am　I　going　to　do　with　her　when　we　move　up　within　a　day　or　two？　I　can't　take　her　along　to　the　front；　and　I　hate　to　leave　her　here。　Some　one　might　treat　her　rough。〃

〃Captain；〃　said　Bok；　hailing　the　officer；　〃you　can　attend　to　that；　can't　you；　when　the　time　comes？〃

〃I　sure　can；　and　I　sure　will；〃　answered　the　Captain。　And　with　a　quick　salute；　Pinney　and　his　porker　went　off　across　the　road！

Bok　was　standing　talking　to　the　commandant　of　one　of　the　great　French　army　supply　depots　one　morning。　He　was　a　man　of　forty；　a　colonel　in　the　regular　French　army。　An　erect；　sturdy…looking　man　with　white　hair　and　mustache；　and　who　wore　the　single　star　of　a　subaltern　on　his　sleeve；　came　up；　saluted；　delivered　a　message；　and　then　asked：

〃Are　there　any　more　orders；　sir？〃

〃No；〃　was　the　reply。

He　brought　his　heels　together　with　a　click；　saluted　again；　and　went　away。

The　commandant　turned　to　Bok　with　a　peculiar　smile　on　his　face　and　asked：

〃Do　you　know　who　that　man　is？〃

〃No；〃　was　the　reply。

〃That　is　my　father；〃　was　the　answer。

The　father　was　then　exactly　seventy…two　years　old。　He　was　a　retired　business　man　when　the　war　broke　out。　After　two　years　of　the　heroic　struggle　he　decided　that　he　couldn't　keep　out　of　it。　He　was　too　old　to　fight；　but　after　long　insistence　he　secured　a　commission。　By　one　of　the　many　curious　coincidences　of　the　war　he　was　assigned　to　serve　under　his　own　son。

When　under　the　most　trying　conditions；　the　Americans　never　lost　their　sense　of　fun。　On　the　staff　of　a　prison　hospital　in　Germany；　where　a　number　of　captured　American　soldiers　were　being　treated；　a　German　sergeant　became　quite　friendly　with　the　prisoners　under　his　care。　One　day　he　told　them　that　he　had　been　ordered　to　active　service　on　the　front。　He　felt　convinced　that　he　would　be　captured　by　the　English；　and　asked　the　Americans　if　they　would　not　give　him　some　sort　of　testimonial　which　he　could　show　if　he　were　taken　prisoner；　so　that　he　would　not　be　ill…treated。

The　Americans　were　much　amused　at　this　idea；　and　concocted　a　note　of　introduction；　written　in　English。　The　German　sergeant　knew　no　English　and　could　not　understand　his　testimonial；　but　he　tucked　it　in　his　pocket；　well　satisfied。

In　due　time；　he　was　sent　to　the　front　and　was　captured　by　〃the　ladies　from　hell；〃　as　the　Germans　called　the　Scotch　kilties。　He　at　once　presented　his　introduction；　and　his　captors　laughed　heartily　when　they　read：

〃This　is　L。　He　is　not　a　bad　sort　of　chap。　Don't　shoot　him；　torture　him　slowly　to　death。〃

One　evening　as　Bok　was　strolling　out　after　dinner　a　Red　Cross　nurse　came　to　him；　explained　that　she　had　two　severely　wounded　boys　in　what　remained　of　an　old　hut：　that　they　were　both　from　Pennsylvania；　and　had　expressed　a　great　desire　to　see　him　as　a　resident　of　their　State。

〃Neither　can　possibly　survive　the　night；〃　said　the　nurse。

〃They　know　that？〃　asked　Bok。

〃Oh；　yes；　but　like　all　our　boys　they　are　lying　there　joking　with　each　other。〃

Bok　was　taken　into　what　remained　of　a　room　in　a　badly　shelled　farmhouse；　and　there；　on　two　roughly　constructed　cots；　lay　the　two　boys。　Their　faces　had　been　bandaged　so　that　nothing　was　visible　except　the　eyes　of　each　boy。　A　candle　in　a　bottle　standing　on　a　box　gave　out　the　only　light。　But　the　eyes　of　the　boys　were　smiling　as　Bok　came　in　and　sat　down　on　the　box　on　which　the　nurse　had　been　sitting。　He　talked　with　the　boys；　got　as　much　of　their　stories　from　them　as　he　could；　and　told　them　such　home　news　as　he　thought　might　interest　them。

After　half　an　hour　he　arose　to　leave；　when　the　nurse　said：　〃There　is　no　one　here；　Mr。　Bok；　to　say　the　last　words　to　these　boys。　Will　you　do　it？〃　Bok　stood　transfixed。　In　sending　men　over　in　the　service　of　the　Y。　M。　C。　A。　he　had　several　times　told　them　to　be　ready　for　any　act　that　they　might　be　asked　to　render；　even　the　most　sacred　one。　And　here　he　stood　himself　before　that　duty。　He　felt　as　if　he　stood　stripped　before　his　Maker。　Through　the　glassless　window　the　sky　lit　up　constantly　with　the　flashes　of　the　guns；　and　then　followed　the　booming　of　a　shell　as　it　landed。

〃Yes；　won't　you；　sir？〃　asked　the　boy　on　the　right　cot　as　he　held　out　his　hand。　Bok　took　it；　and　then　the　hand　of　the　other　boy　reached　out。

What　to　say；　he　did　not　know。　Then；　to　his　surprise；　he　heard　himself　repeating　extract　after　extract　from　a　book　by　Lyman　Abbott　called　The　Other　Room；　a　message　to　the　bereaved　declaring　the　non…existence　of　death；　but　that　we　merely　move　from　this　earth　to　another：　from　one　room　to　another；　as　it　were。　Bok　had　not　read　the　book　for　years；　but　here　was　the　subconscious　self　supplying　the　material　for　him　in　his　moment　of　greatest　need。　Then　he　remembered　that　just　before　leaving　home　he　had　heard　sung　at　matins；　after　the　pray