When the Boys Come Home

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1919. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER II When the stuffy little train drew up at the familiar platform the returning soldier, faint at heart, grew pale. The long, dreary ride down the valley had been a continual strain upon his tired nerves, and he braced himself against the shock of change from battlefield to peaceful home surroundings. Years seemed to have gone by so full had been the days of his absence. But it was the same old town--thank God!--and the same station. Also, the same thoroughfare that the natives called Main Street. Then suddenly it came over him how ageing had been the struggle over there. A boy on going away--now a man. In open-mouthed wonder, Rodgers, owner of the tumbledown jitney, seized his baggage and dragged him bodily into the back seat. The faithful driver had undergone no change. He was still Rodgers with the endless cough. The Boy shook hands with him heartily. You most certainly have changed, Mister George, remarked the cabman between coughing spells. Then there was a painful silence. The Boy became conscious that Rodgers was gazing at his empty sleeve. Ah, yes--the sleeve about which he had been answering questions for the past month. Every person who sat beside him in any public conveyance seemed to consider it a duty to stare at him, and then to interrogate him. Oh, I lost it at Vimy Ridge, said he mechanically, in answer to the look in Rodgers' eyes, now filmed with strange tears. Then the car moved away in a cloud of dust, and without a word from the cabman. The Boy had many a tug at his heart as he passed up Main Street. There was the drug store where he always joined the evening crowds, also where he had taken the Girl on a certain memorable first occasion and ordered ice cream sodas for two. Her image, always hovering, now came up before ...