Viewing page 23 of 33

This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.

254    THE CRISIS
[left column]
master, with a twinkle in his eye, "we are going to make a hike for a mile or two around the neighborhood.  Come along," he added.

"I'll be heah," promised the old veteran, "I'll be heah," he assured while the scout-master, at a total loss to know just what he had up his sleeve, bade him good-bye and turned to the introspection of his boys as
John Brown turned his steps again homeward.

The next afternoon the old veteran got out his G.A.R. uniform, brushed it up, polished up and pinned on his medals and prepared to make his way to the drill grounds of the boy-scouts.

Strutting down the street on his way, he was overtaken and passed by two rollicking joyous youths. "He certainly is a ragtime old man," laughed one of them.

"Ragtime," muttered Brown to himself, "ragtime--I'll show them young fellers a thing or two," thought he as he turned in at a garage.

"Hello Brownie, old scout," greeted the day foreman as the veteran entered and approached him, "is your G.A.R. Post parading today?" he added.

"Well," stammered the veteran, "yas, an' no, dat is de 'John Brown Post' is paradin'; but what I wants ter say is dis: has yo' ah saw an' hammer an' nails an' some light strips ob wood I kin git fo' ter mek ah bannah?" he queried.

The foreman not only secured the desired material, but put together himself the rough wooden frame-work; sent out for a piece of white cloth to cover it and borrowing from a neighboring store, a paint pot and brush with which to letter it, he inquired of the veteran just what lettering he desired on it.

"Nevah yo' mine, O kin do dat mahsef," grinned the old veteran enthusiastically as he perched his spectacles on the end of his nose, seized the brush and inscribed the banner with this legend:

[script centered]

WANTED! -- FITIN' MENS!
N,LIST AT ONCE!
JINE DE RAGTIME REGIMENT!
[END OF CAPTION]

  Without waiting for the inscription to dry, John Brown bore his banner aloft and hurried to the drill ground of the scouts just in time to fall in at the rear as, led by the scout-master, who had forgotten all about his promise to the old veteran on the

[right column]

day before, they started on their hike about the neighborhood.
  With his head high John Brown hobbled and limped along in their wake surrounded, followed and escorted by innumerable street urchins and irrepressible small boys who rallied to his aid valiantly whenever he tired of carrying the cumbersome banner.
  Very soon the scouts turned into a side street which they traversed for a ways, when suddenly they swung into and up a business street and headed back toward their drill ground.
  When the scouts, with John Brown and his urchins trailing them, swept into this busy humming artery of trade and traffic there was a near riot.
  The sight of the old veteran and his sign with its ragged guard of honor enticed loafers and loiterers from barber-shop, bath-house, pool-room and palm-garden. Restaurants contributed their hordes while the Y. M. C. A. and social centers along the line of march, added interested ones--flocking to view, jeer or join the odd procession.
  As the march proceeded the ranks behind John Brown filled up until, by the time the scouts reached their drill-ground more than a hundred young fellows, of splendid physique, tramped swelteringly behind him and his loyal urchins--a fine nucleus for a regiment!
  As the scouts entered their play-ground and proceeded to disband John Brown, with difficulty, drew up his nondescript recruits in the street and lined them up at the curb.
  These stragglers would have disbanded and departed in double-quick time had not something in the old veteran's eyes, something in his manner, something in his speech--grim determination--overwhelmed them.
  The crowd stood about agape, while the old veteran tottered up and down the line in soldierly fashion, straightening up a shoulder here, pushing up a chin there, or ordering heels together and toes out yonder.
  In the meantime the scout-master and several of his boys came up and volunteered their services. When at last [italic] all [atalic] the rookies were regulated in a line, as nearly perfect as possible, the old veteran stood back and scanned the whole line up and down. Then straightening his own stoop shoulders and bracing up with the air of a