When the war came, the brave old soul, stirred by patriotism, paid his
own passage and expenses on the mail boat to St. Johns, and offered to
volunteer for service. Of course he was too old and was rejected
because of his age.
Uncle Tom, his patriotism not in the least dampened, returned to his
Labrador home and divided all the fur of his winter's hunt into two
equal piles. To one pile he added a ten dollar bill, and that pile,
with the ten dollars added, he shipped at once to the "Patriotic Fund"
in St. Johns. He had offered himself, and they would not take him, and
this was all he could do to help win the war, and he did it freely and
wistfully, out of his noble, generous patriotic soul.
"What is the trouble, Uncle Tom?" asked Grenfell, when Uncle Tom had
to some extent regained his composure, and the old man told his
story.
He was in hard luck. Late the previous fall (1920) or early in the
winter he had met with a severe accident that had resulted in several
broken ribs. Navigation had closed, and he was cut off from all
surgical assistance, and his broken ribs had never had attention and
had not healed.
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