Tidings of Comfort and Joy

Bulger's Friend

By O. Henry

It was rare sport for a certain element in the town when old Bulger joined the Salvation Army. Bulger was the town's odd "character," a shiftless, eccentric old man, and a natural foe to social conventions. He lived on the bank of a brook that bisected the town, in a wonderful hut of his own contriving, made of scrap lumber, clapboards, pieces of tin, canvas and corrugated iron.

One rainy night when the Salvation Army was holding a slenderly attended meeting in its hall, Bulger had appeared and asked permission to join the ranks. The sergeant in command of the post welcomed the old man with that cheerful lack of prejudice that distinguishes the peaceful militants of his order.

Bulger was at once assigned to the position of bass drummer, to his evident, although grimly expressed, joy. Possibly the sergeant, who had the success of his command at heart, perceived that it would be no mean token of successful warfare to have the new recruit thus prominently dis- played, representing, as he did, if not a brand from the burning, at least a well- charred and sap-dried chunk.

So every night, when the Army marched from its quarters to the street corner where open-air services were held, Bulger stumbled along with his bass drum behind the sergeant and the corporal, who played "Sweet By and By" and "Only an Armor-Bearer" in unison upon their cornets.

The most adventurous boys circled Bulger's residence at a respectful distance. He was intolerant of visitors, and repelled the curious with belligerent and gruff inhospitality. In return, the report was current that he was of unsound mind, something of a wizard, and a miser with a vast amount of gold buried in or near his hut. The old man worked at odd jobs, such as weeding gardens and whitewashing; and he collected old bones, scrap metal and bottles from alleys and yards. And never before in that town was the bass drum so soundly whacked. Bulger managed to keep time with the cornets upon his instrument, but his feet were always woefully unrhythmic. He shuffled and staggered and rocked from side to side like a bear.

Truly, he was not pleasing to the sight. He was a bent, ungainly old man, with a face screwed to one side and wrinkled like a dry prune. The red shirt, which proclaimed his enlistment into the ranks, was a misfit, being the outer husk of a leviathan corporal who had died some time before. This garment hung upon Bulger in folds. His old brown cap was always pulled down over one eye. These and his wobbling gait gave him the appearance of some great simian, captured and imperfectly educated in pedestrian and musical maneuvers.

The thoughtless boys and undeveloped men who gathered about the street services of the Army badgered Bulger incessantly. They called upon him to
give oral testimony to his conversion, and criticized the technique and style of his drum performance. But the old man paid no attention whatever to their jeers. He rarely spoke to anyone except when, on coming and going, he gruffly saluted his comrades.

The sergeant had met many odd characters, and knew how to study them. He allowed the recruit to have his own silent way for a time. Every evening Bulger appeared at the hall, marched up the street with the squad and back again. Then he would place his drum in the corner where it belonged, and sit upon the last bench in the rear until the hall meeting was concluded.

But one night the sergeant followed the old man outside, and laid his hand upon his shoulder. "Comrade," he said, "is it well with you?"

"Not yet, sergeant," said Bulger. "I'm only tryin.' I'm glad you come outside. I've been wantin' to ask you: Do you believe the Lord would take a man in if he come to Him late like—kind of a last resort, you know? Say a man who'd lost everything—home and property and friends and health. Wouldn't it look mean to wait till then and try to come?"

"Bless His name—no!" said the ser- geant. "Come ye that are heavy laden; that's what He says. The poorer, the more miserable, the more unfortunate—the greater His love and forgiveness."