Gettysburgby Percy Mackaye
Format of Original Source: Play
Recommended Adaptation Length:
Candidate for Adaptation? Promising
POLLY My! Wa’n’t you never scart and wished you’d stayed t’ home?
LINK Scart? Wall, I wonder! Chick, look a-thar: them little stripes and stars. I heerd a feller onct, down to the store,- a dressy mister, span-new from the city- layin’ the law down: “All this stars and stripes,” says he, “and red and white and blue is rubbish, mere sentimental rot, spread-eagleism!” “I wan’t’ know!” says I. “In sixty-three, I knowed a lad, named Link. Onct, after sundown I met him stumblin’–with two dead men’s muskets for crutches–towards a bucket, full of ink— water, they called it. When he’d drunk a spell, he tuk the rest to wash his bullet-holes.— Wall, sir, he had a piece o’ splintered stick, with red and white and blue, tore’most t’ tatters, a-danglin’ from it. ‘Be you color sergeant?’ says I. ‘Not me,’ says Link; ‘the sergeant’s dead; but when he fell, he handed me this bit o’ rubbish–red and white and blue.’ And Link he laughed. ‘What be you laughin’ for?’ says I. ‘Oh, nothin’. Ain’t it lovely, though!'” says Link.
POLLY What did the span-new mister say to that?
LINK I didn’t stop to listen. Them as never heerd dead men callin’ for the colors don’t guess what they be.
(Sitting up and blinking hard)
But this ain’t keepin’ school!
I guess I’m learnin’ somethin’, Uncle Link.
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