Watch Yourself Go By

by Al. G. Field

The boy's spirit began to assert itself.

"Laugh, if you feel like it. Lacy Hare and Aunt Betsy made me these clothes, they're regular soldier clothes. I'll bet if you laugh at them when Aunt Betsy comes she will tell you something. I don't see nothin' to laugh at."

"Landsakes," spoke up Lin, "step in the parlor and look at yerself. Ef you don't laugh you're not the kind I took ye fer."

Alfred did laugh and he got out of the clothes mighty quickly. Lin was delegated to explain to Aunt Betsy why they changed Alfred's clothes so quickly.

Aunt Betsy informed them:

"The boy had jes' romped until he was most naked. They didn't want to send to town for clothes for him, so Lacy and her jes' banded together and made him the suit. They had plenty of time and they concluded to make him a suit different from any other boy's. And it warn't much trouble to trim it up and make it nice rather than to make it plain. It took two days more to trim it than it did to make it."

Lin told the good, honest soul they could not think of Alfred wearing the clothes every day in town. "We'll keep 'em off him 'til the next battle and when the peepul are all sad over their friends that's been killed, we'll dress him up and send him down the street."

Many years afterwards, the writer, rummaging through the garret of the old home, the odd garments fashioned by Lacy Hare and Aunt Betsy were discovered. Recollections of the mirth they aroused when first brought to the notice of the family, prompted the carrying of the old musty outfit to the sitting room below.

But somehow the odd looking suit failed to excite any merriment. It was rather regarded with reverence. The sight of it sent the thoughts of all traveling back to other and happier days. The mother thought of those whose kindly hands had fashioned the fantastic garments; of an elder sister who had filled a mother's place in the family. She remembered a happy home, its like unknown in all the country about, where hospitality was liberally dispensed, visitors always welcome. She thought of the first wife's passing, the coming of another to the big house. The lowering of the family name by the second marriage. The shunning of the old home by friends and relatives; of the rapid decline of the master; evil associates whom he preferred to those who had honored and loved him; the estrangement of family and friends.

In her mind she could see in him a bent old man, prematurely old, leaving his home to seek shelter with strangers, lost to the sight of former friends, his whereabouts known only when the final summons came to him; his identity made known by his last request: