Softer and softer the music come--the melodium, the
cordine, and the fiddle. It sounded like marchin', they said, and they
heard the tramp, tramp, tramp of the sperrit soldiers. Then there was
quiet--only the roarin' of the stove and the snuffin' of the little
ones. And when they looked up Leander was alone--settin' there on the
platform, kind of rubbin' his eyes--alone."
There was silence in the store. Josiah Nummler's pipe was going full
blast, and while the white cloud hid him from the others, I could see a
gentle smile on his fat face.
"Mighty son's!" cried Henry Holmes, "that there's unpossible."
Josiah planted his pole on the floor and lifted himself to his feet.
"It's only a fairy story, Henery," he said.
"What does it illustrate?" cried Aaron Kallaberger. "Nothin', I says.
We was talkin' about Mark and William Bellus, and you switches off on
Leander and Ernest. To a certain pint your story agrees with what my
boy told me of the doin's in the school this afternoon."
"What doing's?" I exclaimed.
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