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"Enlist!" his mother cried, when he mentioned it to her, "I should say not--you are my only child, and I certainly did not raise you to be a soldier. There are plenty of common people to do the fighting; there are men who really like it; but I have other ambitions for you--you are to be a university man."
When the Third University Company went, he spoke of it again, but his mother held firm.
"Do you think I am going to have you sleeping in those awful trenches, with every Tom, d.i.c.k, and Harry? I tell you soldiering is a rough business, and I cannot let a boy of mine go--a boy who has had your advantages must not think of it."
"But, mother, there are lots of boys going who have had just as good advantages as I have."
Just then came in Emily Miller, the little girl from next door whose brother was going away the next day. Emily was an outspoken young lady of fourteen.
"When are you going, Garth?" she asked pointedly.
"He is not going," said his mother firmly. "His duty is at home finis.h.i.+ng his education, and I am simply amazed at your mother for letting Robert go. Does she not believe in education? Of course I know there are not many who lay the stress on it that I do, but with me it is education first--always."
"But the war won't wait," said Emily; "my mother would be very glad to have Bob finish his education, but she's afraid it will be over then."
"War or no war, I say let the boys get their education--what is life without it?"
Emily surveyed her calmly, and then said, "What would happen to us if every mother held her boy back--what if every mother took your att.i.tude, Mrs. Brunton?"
"You need not speculate on that, child, for they won't. Most mothers run with the popular fancy--they go with the crowd--never thinking, but I have always been peculiar, I know."
"Oh, mother, cut out that 'peculiar' business--it makes me tired!"
said Garth undutifully.
When Robert Miller came in to say good-bye, he said: "You'll be lonesome, Garth, when we all go and you are left with the women and the old men--but perhaps you will enjoy being the only young man at the party."
"Garth may go later," said his mother,--"at least if the war lasts long enough,--but not as a private. I will not object to his taking the officers' cla.s.ses at the university."
"See, Bob," crowed Garth, "I'll have you and Jim Spaulding for my two batmen over there. But never mind, I'll be good to you and will see that you get your ha'pennyworth of 'baccy and mug of beer regular."
Mrs. Brunton laughed delightedly. "Garth always sees the funny side,"
she cooed.
"That certainly is a funny side all right," said Robert, "but he'll never see it! These pasteboard officers never last after they get over--they can only carry it off here. Over there, promotions are on merit, not on political pull."
The third, fourth, and fifth contingents went from the university, and still Garth pursued the quest of learning. His mother openly rebuked the mothers of the boys who had gone. "Let the man on the street go!
Look at the unemployed men on our streets!" she said; "why aren't they made to go--and leave our university boys at home?"
"Every man owes a duty to his country," one of the mothers said. "If one man neglects or refuses to pay, that is no reason for others to do the same. This is a holy war--holier than any of the crusades--for the crusader went out to restore the tomb of our Lord, and that is only a material thing; but our boys are going out to give back to the world our Lord's ideals, and I know they are more precious to Him than any tomb could be!"
"My dear Mrs. Mason," said Garth's mother, "you are simply war-mad like so many women--it is impossible to reason with you."
A year went by, and many of the university boys were wounded and some were killed. To the mothers of these went Mrs. Brunton with words of sympathy, but came away wondering. Some way they did not seem to receive her warmly.
"Where is Garth now?" asked one of these women.
"He's thinking of taking the officers' training," answered Mrs.
Brunton, "as soon as the college term closes. A boy meets the very nicest people there, and I do think that is so important, to meet nice people."
"And no Germans!" said the other woman tartly.
Mrs. Brunton gave a very select and intellectual farewell party for Garth when he went to another city to take the officers' training, and she referred to him as "my brave soldier laddie," much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of some of the party.
In two weeks he came home on leave of absence, very elegant in his new uniform. He also brought cabinet-sized photographs which cost eighteen dollars a dozen. Another party was held--the newspaper said he was the "_raison d'etre_ for many pleasant social gatherings."
At the end of two weeks he went out again to take more cla.s.ses. He was very popular with the girls, and the mother of one of them came to visit Mrs. Brunton. They agreed on the subject of military training and education, and exceptional women, and all was gay and happy.
At the end of three months Garth again came home. No hero from the scenes of battle was ever more royally received, and an afternoon reception was held, when patriotic songs were sung and an uncle of the young man made a speech.
Soon after that Garth went to Toronto and took another course, because his mother thought it was only right for him to see his own country first, before going abroad; and, besides, no commission had yet been offered him. The short-sightedness of those in authority was a subject which Mrs. Brunton often dwelt on, but she said she could not help being glad.
Meanwhile the war went wearily on; battalion after battalion went out and scattering remnants came home. Empty sleeves, rolled trousers legs, eyes that stared, and heads that rolled pitifully appeared on the streets. On the suns.h.i.+ny afternoons many of these broken men sat on the verandas of the Convalescent Home and admired the smart young lieutenant who went whistling by--and wondered what force he was with.
The war went on to the completion of its third year. Garth had attended cla.s.ses in three cities, and had traveled Canada from end to end. There had been four farewell parties and three receptions in his honor. He came home again for what his mother termed "a well-earned rest."
He sat on the veranda one day luxuriously ensconced in a wicker chair, smoking a cigarette whose blue wreaths of smoke he blew gayly from him. He was waiting for the postman--one of Mae's letters had evidently gone astray, and the postman, who seemed to be a stupid fellow, had probably given it to some one else. He had made several mistakes lately, and Garth determined that it was time he was reprimanded--the young officer would attend to that.
"Posty" came at last, a few minutes late again, and Garth rapped imperiously with his cane, as "Posty," peering at the addresses of the letters, came up the steps.
"See here," cried Garth, "let me see what you have!"
"Posty" started nervously and the letters dropped from his hands.
While he gathered them up, Garth in his most military manner delivered himself of a caustic rebuke:--
"You have left letters here which belong elsewhere, and I have lost letters through your carelessness. What is the matter with you anyway--can't you read?" he snapped.
"Yes, sir," stammered "Posty," flus.h.i.+ng as red as the band on his hat.
"Well, then," went on the young officer, "why don't you use your eyes--where do you keep them anyway?"
"Posty" stood at attention as he answered with measured deliberation:--
"I have one of them here ... but I left the other one at Saint-eloi.
Were you thinking of hunting it up for me, sir,--when--you--go--over?"
That was six weeks ago. Still the war goes on. Returned men walk our streets, new pale faces lie on hospital pillows, telegraph boys on wheels carry dread messages to the soldiers' homes.
Garth has gone back to an Eastern city for another course (this time in signaling). He gave a whole set of b.u.t.tons off his uniform to Mae before he went--and he had his photograph taken again!
Even if he does not get over in time to do much in this war, it is worth something to have such a perfectly trained young officer ready for the next war!
CHAPTER X