He had scarcely reached home again when the bell rang furiously and an
excited voice was wafted in from the porch:
"Foh de Lawd's sake! won't you-all tell Marse Bob please not to go out
no moh till I kin git his clo'es round to him?"
Many a man feels that he could be quite comfortable if his conscience
would meet him halfway.
CONSCRIPTION
He was a homesick colored soldier in a labor battalion, and he saw no
chance of a discharge.
"De nex' wah dey has," he announced to a friend, "dey's two men dat
ain't goin'--me an' de man dey sends to git me."
A negro registrant from a farming district was called to service.
Arriving in town, he found the local board had moved to another
street. At the new address another negro languished in the doorway.
"Is dis whar de redemtion bo'd is at?" queried the newcomer.
"Sho' is," answered the second. "But de blessed redeemer done gone out
fo' lunch."
Zeb Smith was a drafted man. He saw heavy fighting in France and was
wounded. On his return to the United States he was interviewed by one
whose duty it was to interest himself in the men.
"Smith, what do you intend to do when you are released from the
service?"
"Get me some dependents," was the instantaneous reply.
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