A Spoil of Office: A Story of the Modern WestGarland, Hamlin
General
A Spoil of Office: A Story of the Modern West
Garland, Hamlin
Farmers -- Fiction
Many of the young fellows had hired at ruinous expense the carriages in
which they sat with their girls, wearing a quiet air of aristocratic
reserve which did not allow them to shout sarcasms at Milton, when his
horse broke into a trot and jounced him up and down till his hat flew
off. But mainly the young people were in huge bowered lumber wagons in
wildly hilarious groups. The girls in their simple white dresses tied
with blue ribbon at the waist, and the boys in their thick woolen suits
which did all-round duty for best wear.
As they moved off across the prairie toward the dim blue belt of timber
which marked the banks of Rock River, other processions joined them
with banner, and bands, and choirs, all making a peaceful and
significant parade, an army of reapers of grain, not reapers of men.
Some came singing "John Brown," or "Hail, Columbia." Everywhere was a
voiced excitement which told how tremendous the occasion seemed. In
every wagon hid in cool deeps of fresh-cut grass, were unimaginable
quantities of good things which the boys never for a moment forgot even
in their great excitement.
On the procession moved, with gay flags and flashing banners. The dust
rolled up, the cattle stared across the fences, the colts ran snorting
away, tails waving like flags, and unlucky toilers in the fields
stopped to wave their hats and gaze wistfully till the caravan passed.
The men shouted jovial words to them, and the boys waved their hats in
ready sympathy.
At ten o'clock they entered the magnificent grove of oaks, where a
speaker's stand had been erected, and where enterprising salesmen from
Rock River had erected soda water and candy stands, with an eye to
business.
There was already a stupendous crowd, at least so it seemed to the
farmers' boys. Two or three bands were whanging away somewhere in the
grove; children were shouting and laughing, and boys were racing to and
fro, playing ball or wrestling; babies were screaming, and the marshals
were shouting directions to the entering teams, in voices that rang
through the vaulted foliage with thrilling effect, and the harsh bray
of the ice cream and candy sellers completed the confusion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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