Reunion On Ganymede

By cracky,' shouted Gramp Parker, 'you're tryin' to mess up all my plans. You're tryin' to keep me from goin' to this reunion.'
'You know that isn't true, pa,' protested his daughter, Celia. 'But I declare, you are a caution. I'll worry every minute you are gone.'
'Who ever heard of a soldier goin' any place without his side arms?' stormed Gramp. 'If I can't wear those side arms I'm not goin'. All the other boys will have 'em.'
His daughter argued. 'You know what happened when you tried to show Harry how that old flame pistol worked,' she reminded him. 'It's a wonder both of you weren't killed.'
'I ain't goin' to do no shootin' with 'em,' declared Gramp. 'I just want to wear 'em with my uniform.
Don't feel dressed without 'em.'
His daughter gave up. She knew the argument might go on all day. 'All right, pa,' she said, 'but you be careful.'
She got up and went into the house. Gramp stretched his old bones in the sun. It was pleasant here of a June morning on a bench in front of the house.
Little Harry came around the corner and headed for the old man. 'What you doing, grandpa?' he demanded. 'Nothin',' Gramp told him.
The boy climbed onto the bench. Tell me about the war,' he begged.
'You go on and play,' Gramp told him.
'Aw, grandpa, tell me about that big battle you was in!'