A LITTLE ADJUSTING
During the next seven or eight days from all sides I heard one question
asked by young and old: “When are you going to put on the uniform,
Father?” Little children to whom I had taught catechism rushed around
corners or panted up narrow streets of the little town where I was
stationed and smilingly asked me. Their fathers and mothers, after
saying good-morning, remarked pleasantly, as an afterthought: “I
suppose we’ll soon be seeing you in the khaki, Father?” They seemed to
anticipate real pleasure in seeing me decked in full regimentals. But
the more I had evidence of this seemingly pleasant anticipation, the
less inclined I felt to appear publicly in my chaplain’s uniform. When
the time came for a last fitting at the tailor’s, I found other duties
to claim my attention, until a polite little note from the proprietor
of the establishment informed me that my presence was requested for a
last fitting of my uniform.
Then one morning, when the spring birds that had returned were singing
merrily among the trees with not the slightest thought as to their
raiment, and when bursting buds were making the trees beautiful in
their eagerness to drape them with bright green robes, I appeared on
the public streets of the quiet little town clad in full regimentals.
I had chosen an early hour for my public appearance, thinking that my
ordeal would not be so trying.
Since that morning I have had many exciting experiences, up and down
the ways of war; I have witnessed many impressive scenes, beautiful,
terrible, and horrible, but these events have by no means obliterated
from the tablets of my memory the events of that morning. Nothing
particular happened until I had descended the hill and turned the
first corner to the right in the direction of the town post-office. A
horse was coming at a leisurely gait down the quiet street, driven by
a young fellow of about sixteen, who sat on the seat of a high express
wagon with a friend. Both lads seemed to see me at once, and started
perceptibly. In his excitement, the driver pulled on the lines and
the startled horse jerked his head quickly, as if he, too, was struck
by my unwonted appearance. On the opposite side of the road a barber,
who was operating on an early customer, stopped suddenly and came to
the window, the razor still in his hand, while his patient, almost
enveloped in the great white apron that was tucked about his neck, sat
up quickly in the chair and turned a face half-covered with thick,
creamy lather towards the window. All along the way people stopped,
looked, smiled pleasantly, and then passed on. I had almost entered
the post-office when the rattling of an express wagon, that must have
passed the winter uncovered, as every spoke in the wheels seemed loose,
came noisily to my ears. The horse was reined up opposite me, and as I
turned my head side-wise I was greeted by the two young fellows who had
passed me but a few minutes before, only this time three other lads,
with smiling faces, were standing behind them in the wagon, holding to
the seat.
After I got my mail from the box, I decided not to return by the
same route along which I had come. There was a more secluded way.
It was with a feeling of great relief that I found no one coming in
my direction. I took out my new khaki handkerchief, unfolded it and
wiped my brow. But, alas, for my relief! I had not gone very far till
I crossed a street running at right angles to my course. A number of
school children were coming along this. I quickened my pace. They saw
me, and immediately a great bubbling of excited talk was borne to my
ears. Then, as I disappeared from their view, I heard the sound of
many eager feet pattering up the sidewalk. It ceased suddenly and I
knew that again they were regarding me intently. There was a complete
silence for a second or two, then I heard quite clearly the voice of
a little girl, who in the last year’s confirmation class had given me
more trouble than any other of the candidates, call almost louder than
was necessary for her companions to hear: “Oh! doesn’t he look lovely?”
A man just coming from his house on his way to his office smiled
pleasantly and interestedly as he heard the small voice. Then he raised
his hat. I saluted.
As I walked up under the trees clothed in their beautiful spring
garments, and listened to the birds that sang so blithely this bright
cool spring morning, with never a thought as to their raiment, I wiped
my brow again. “These military clothes are warm,” I said to myself--yet
I knew that this was not the reason.