We charged admission, for we needed some more scenery, and the
neighboring frontier town of Valentine came riding and driving
over the prairie and across the old bridge of the Niobrara River,
to see our plays. We had a well-lighted stage. Our methods were
primitive, as there was no gas or electricity there in those
days, but the results were good, and the histrionic ability shown
by some of our young men and women seemed marvellous to us.
I remember especially Bob Emmet's acting, which moved me to
tears, in a most pathetic love scene. I thought, "What has the
stage lost, in this gifted man!"
But he is of a family whose talents are well known, and his
personality, no doubt, added much to his natural ability as an
actor.
Neither the army nor the stage can now claim this brilliant
cavalry officer, as he was induced, by urgent family reasons,
shortly after the period of which I am writing, to resign his
commission and retire to private life, at the very height of his
ambitious career.
And now the summer came on apace. A tennis-court was made, and
added greatly to our amusement. We were in the saddle every day,
and the country around proved very attractive at this season,
both for riding and driving.
But all this gayety did not content me, for the serious question
of education for our children now presented itself; the question
which, sooner or later, presents itself to the minds of all the
parents of army children. It is settled differently by different
people. It had taken a year for us to decide.
I made up my mind that the first thing to be done was to take the
children East and then decide on schools afterwards. So our plans
were completed and the day of departure fixed upon. Jack was to
remain at the Post.
About an hour before I was to leave I saw the members of the
string orchestra filing across the parade ground, coming directly
towards our quarters. My heart began to beat faster, as I
realized that Mrs. Kautz had planned a serenade for me. I felt it
was a great break in my army life, but I did not know I was
leaving the old regiment forever, the regiment with which I had
been associated for so many years. And as I listened to the
beautiful strains of the music I loved so well, my eyes were wet
with tears, and after all the goodbye's were said, to the
officers and their wives, my friends who had shared all our joys
and our sorrows in so many places and under so many conditions, I
ran out to the stable and pressed my cheek against the soft warm
noses of our two saddle horses.
