Trooper Tales — page 28: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

20 The Recruit in the Black Cavalrv. the harbor—that there was going to be merry hell up the hills which would last for a week or ten days. “Is—de—Black — Hoss—troop—dun—agwine—up— de—hills—or—stay back?” Sadie’s full lips, which formed the question, were ashy gray. The words were uttered in a slow, hopeless whisper. Here’s the reply to his question: “Does yoh fink for one moment dat dey’s agwine to leab de cream an’ skallups ob de whole niggah regiment back heah to shine up de skates—when de band’s dun agwine to play dead marches an’ de variations up yon- dah ?” The troop commander was approaching. The sentry came to “present arms,” and the prisoner stood “at at- tention.” Great thoughts were in the brain of the black recruit. He was about to make the bravest effort of his life. “Will de captain ‘low me to go up de hills in de troop to-day—an’ serve mah time after de fun am obah, sah?” “Tl turn you over to the other troop, where you'll be under a guard—that’s what I’ll do to you—understand— eh?” The sun was steaming out the rain from the troop commander’s blouse, but he was wet and ugly still. Sadie saluted in graceful silence, and choked down a great, dry lump in his throat. After the captain was out of earshot, the black recruit said to his friend: “Las’ night Ah dun larieted mah lil’ game chickum out in the bresh. He wah a-crowin’ up in de hills, when Ah Gomichoo S (EO)