An Adventure in Time With Dowdy and Sam

As I started the trek from my desk to the head of the class - with the intention of handing our teacher, Miss Evergreen, the note we'd been passing around - I became sidetracked.

While smiling at Suzy Lipton - the prettiest girl in the fifth grade - I bumped into an adventurer by the name of Christian.

"No worries, mate," he said. "Just hop in me straw basket and we're off. Come on then! No time to spare. It's right there on me back. Hop in, lad!"

I don't usually conspire with strangers, but considering the sour look on Miss Evergreen’s puss, it seemed the thing to do.

"All right then . . ."

"Christian's the name," he said. "Christian O'Dougherty, a man in search of a lark. Shall we have a lark then, lad?"

"I see no reason not to," I said.

Well, the next thing I know, Christian and I were seated on the back of a runaway horse. We were riding along with Indians, and heading in the direction of a big commotion.

"Little Big Horn!" Christian shouted. "Not the sort of lark I had bargained for. We must have been thrown off course. Back in the basket, then, lad. We're off!"

But before we could get away we were thrown from the horse and onto the center stage of history.

"General Custer!" Christian shouted. "Been a long time, Georgie."

"Christian! My old comrade!" said the general.
"Still having a lark, I see."

"Love to sit and chat, Georgie. But history has a course of its own. In the basket, then, lad!"

As we drifted away from the Little Big Horn, I looked down and could have sworn General Custer was waving his saber at us, and yelling the foulest language. I confessed my concern to Christian, but he was his usual jovial self.

"No worries, mate," he said. "The General's got a bee in his bucket cause we're out for a lark an he ain't. It's the history books for the likes of him, and he knows it."

"All the same, Christian, he looked awful mad."

"The bloke was born mad, lad," he said. "Now, do me a favor and fetch us some goggles. I feel a rain coming on."

I rummaged around in the basket and came up with all manner of things: compass, telescope, chessboard, pistol . . . pistol!

"Christian!" I shouted. "Ain't this the General's gun?”

"Ain't ain't a word I expect to be earin' from you again, lad. It ain't civilized."

"The gun!" I said. "What about the gun?"

He took it from my hands and inspected the thing with a most curious eye.

"Oh, it's the General's all right," he said. "Look, G.A.C. writ right here on the barrel. And all these many years I'm thinking he's wavin' that saber cause he run out of bullets. Ha! What a lark. Not to take it to heart, though, lad. It wouldn't have done him no good, anyhow - I don't think. Oh, well. Time for another lark. Hold tight, lad. There's a storm a brewin' and I'm feelin' awful adventuresome. . ."