Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/158

WAR you see that I am decently interred and not thrown on the dunghill as I deserve to be? I love you-all now more than—that other thing—I used to love when the devil was awake. Daddy, whatever happens, don't you, for God's sake, desert me! Stay with me and give me another chance!"

"I wish you'd tell me exactly what's up," says I, "though I expect an old fool like me wouldn't understand a nice young girl's thoughts."

"Daddy," she asks, "did you ever hear the story of Penelope?"

"I never was acquainted with her. I suppose she lives in Hartford County, not?" answers I.

"She lived in Greece—"

"The country in the geography," I says, "not the Shnitzlers' place?"

"Yes. She was the wife of a great soldier named Ulysses. And while he was off in the wars many other chiefs came and wanted her, and they all brought their weapons, and all thought him dead. For men didn't woo women 142