His knight errant gone and instead--only me.

Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,
Blow for a little boy lying forlorn,
Asleep where his life wanders out of the morn.

[Illustration]




A RECENT CONFEDERATE VICTORY


In a small town, every man who has been in the community long enough
to become thoroughly known to the townsmen has a place in the human
mosaic; that place seldom changes. Occasionally a man is a year in
finding his place. The town of Willow Creek located Calhoun Perkins in
two days. Wednesday he arrived in town with his son, whom he called
"Bud;" Thursday night it was reported that he had been fishing the
second time. That settled it. After that the boasting of Perkins about
his family in Tennessee and his assertion that he expected to go into
business only made the men laugh when Perkins left a group of them.
They were not interested in Perkins by the following Saturday; and
Monday every man in the town felt that his judgment of a man who would
go fishing every day had been handsomely vindicated, when it was
learned that Perkins had served in the Confederate army. When Perkins
had been in the town three years, the anecdotes illustrating his
shiftlessness multiplied, and his name was a synonym for that trait of
character known in the vernacular as "no-'count." In the third spring,