--
The old man wound up a letter to him
'At Cap. read to us, 'at said: "Tell Jim
Good-by,
And take keer of hisse'f."

{107}

[Illustration: "Well, good-by, Jim"]

{109}

Jim come home jes' long enough
To take the whim
'At he'd like to go back in the calvery--
And the old man jes' wrapped up in him!
Jim 'lowed 'at he'd had sich luck afore,
Guessed he'd tackle her three years more.
And the old man give him a colt he'd raised,
And follered him over to Camp Ben Wade,
And laid around fer a week er so,
Watchin' Jim on dress-parade--
Tel finally he rid away,
And last he heerd was the old man say,--
"Well, good-by, Jim:
Take keer of yourse'f!"

[Illustration: The old man and Jim--tailpiece]

{110}

Tuk the papers, the old man did,
A-watchin' fer Jim--
Fully believin' he'd make his mark
_Some_ way--jes' wrapped up in him!--
And many a time the word 'u'd come
'At stirred him up like the tap of a drum--
At Petersburg, fer instunce, where
Jim rid right into their cannons there,
And tuk 'em, and p'inted 'em t'other way,
And socked it home to the boys in gray
As they scooted fer timber, and on and on--
Jim a lieutenant, and one arm gone,
And the old man's words in his mind all day,--
"Well, good-by, Jim:
Take keer of yourse'f!"

[Illustration: The old man and Jim--tailpiece]

{111}

Think of a private, now, perhaps,
We'll say like Jim,
'At's dumb clean up to the shoulder-straps--
And the old man jes' wrapped up in him!
Think of him--with the war plum' through,
And the glorious old Red-White-and-Blue
A-laughin' the news down over Jim,
And the old man, bendin' over him--
The surgeon turnin' away with tears
'At hadn't leaked fer years and years,
As the hand of the dyin' boy clung to
His father's, the old voice in his ears,--
"Well, good-by, Jim:
Take keer of yourse'f!"

[Illustration: The old man and Jim--tailpiece]

{112}

[Illustration: The old school-chum--headpiece]

THE OLD SCHOOL-CHUM

He puts the poem by, to say
His eyes are not themselves to-day!

A sudden glamour o'er his sight--
A something vague, indefinite--

An oft-recurring blur that blinds
The printed meaning of the lines,

And leaves the mind all dusk and dim
In swimming darkness--strange to him!

{113}

It is not childishness, I guess,--
Yet something of the tenderness