He's having a hard time trying to make
two ends meet. Poor old fellow, he's warning that son of his about places
in France where soldiers get robbed. I've seen some of those places,
sailors' hang-outs, in Brest, and I can back him up there.
I have a kind of hunch that the old fellow-put some more wood on, Roy-I
have a kind of a hunch that he sent the kid a ring, a cameo ring,
with the head of President Lincoln on it. I can see old honest Abe
now--right there where the new sticks are blazing up. Huh? Maybe it's only
a crazy notion; what do you say? But I've doped out a kind of a notion
that that old fellow got the ring when he started off to war; that somebody
or other presented one to each fellow; that left the village. I'd give a
doughnut to know where that village is.
Anyway, the old man wore it on the second finger of his left hand and I
kind of think he wanted that kid of his to do the same--over there in the
trenches.
Maybe I'm just a sort of a day dreamer, but that's the picture I've had in
my mind ever since I was fishing with Jake Holden. And it seems to all fit
together now when I look right there in that blaze.
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