The Argosy, Vol. XXV, No. 3 — page 157: what you’re looking at

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

THE BLACK TRUMPETER. 541 The individual at the post most antagonistic to Sim was the colonel him- self. Colonel Crandall was a corpulent man of an irritable and exacting temperament, and when Sim failed to arrive at his standard of excellence, which was painfully often, he would give the pickaninny a piece of his mind couched in language more forceful than elegant, and the two would be at swords’ points, so to speak, for months at a time. The young reprobate treated the colonel’s tirades with extreme indif- ference. | “Deed, he doan hut my feelin’s none,’’ he would affirm. ‘‘ De kunnel am a quar pusson, an’ I’se too patient a inderwigual to be put out by his electricities !’’—lingering on the last word as if it tasted good. Sim had an astonishing capacity for big words, which he aired on every occasion, to the great amusement of his hearers, for he seldom, if ever, used them correctly. Sim accepted this mirth as a tribute to his genius, and continued to amass additions to his already distended vocabulary. In appearance Sim was not handsome. He had a homely, triangular face, whose mouth and teeth were its most noticeable features. The former extended from ear to ear, and the upper row of the latter hung over his under lip like leaning tombstones ; his ears were large, and he had the pecul- iar and grotesque faculty of working them backward and forward like a mule. But he worea perpetual dazzling grin which made his countenance almost pleasant, and his eyes had an alert, intelligent look that indicated extended powers of observation. He was, in addition to all this, of a pain- fully inquiring turn of mind. | As I have previously intimated, Sim paid little or no attention to his wardrobe. It was doubtful if he ever owned a complete outfit at one ime in his whole career. In summer he usually wore cast off articles of wearing apparel donated by the men for whom he would run errands and do other odd jobs. He encumbered himself at all times with as little attire as convenient, or as was consistent with his somewhat elastic ideas of propriety ; but his chief treasure, upon which he lavished the most jealous care, was a battered old army trumpet which had heen his father’s before him. Next to ‘Lieutenant Cheatwood, it held first place in his affections. When he had become quite an expert with the trumpet, one of his favorite pastimes was to sound the call “ To arms !’’ in the dead of night, quickly following it up with ‘‘ Bootsand saddles!’’ Fora considerable time he kept this up without detection. The calls would sound, the men would be mounted, and Colonel Crandall would be puffing and swearing at the per- petrator of the joke all in the space of a very few minutes, while Sim, with his precious trumpet hid from view, would be snoring peacefully when a search was instituted for the mysterious offender. Owing to his well known mischievous propensities, he fell immediately under the ban of suspicion; but the firmness of his denial and the total lack of incriminating evidence presented an impregnable front to the corpulent colonel’s shafts of anger and abuse. However, he played his pranks once too often, and was finally caught red Coinichooks (S@)