Bass or Business ? 



That was long, long ago, yet how vivid the picture! 

 I hope Bill's still there. 



Bill was a veteran of the Civil War full of rem- 

 iniscence of march and bivouac and hot conflict under 

 the lead of Mosby. Me, why, my hair's as gray today 

 as Bill's was when it happened I mean, of course, 

 my tragic moment. That you'll hear about, if you 

 but bear with me for a bit you understand. And, 

 pards, listen, the click of the reel as it swiftly twirls 

 under the impetus of the outrunning silk and the tug 

 of the fighting fish, of course these are still sweet 

 music to me. 



I knew I had to go to Hagerstown. Not that I 

 wanted to, but business is business. Still I loitered 

 with Bill at the hotel, one early springtime, at peace 

 with all the world and friendly with the genial fre- 

 quenters of Bill's homely and delightfully comfortable 

 old conversation parlor, with sanded floor. Bill kept 

 some find old hooch them was the happy days! 

 And after the third drink time, he modestly told me 

 rare tales of the irregular warfare waged by the dar- 

 ing little band of partisans he rode and fought with 

 under the Stars and Bars. Maybe he was a hero for 

 a' that. 



But the tragic, or the semitragic, moment came on 

 apace. We were comfortably seated that is, Bill 

 and I there at the end of the broad old porch, just 

 where, as I listened to Bill's tale, I could glimpse the 



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