And he became so expert that he would pass the revolver from
hand to hand and empty it against a tree as he went by. When the eight
Germans charged him in the fight in the Argonne, he never raised his
automatic pistol higher than his cartridge-belt.
His mother knew the latent determination of her boy and she was ever in
dread that there might arise some trouble among the men when he was away
on these drinking trips.
"Alvin is jes like his father," she said. "They were both slow to start
trouble, but ef either one would git into hit, they'd go through with
the job and there'd be a-hurtin'."
But since the fist fights of boyhood Alvin York has never had a personal
encounter. His intents and deeds do not lead him into difficulties, and
in his eye there is a calm blue light that steadies the impulses of men
given to explosions of passion and anger.
At a basket-dinner where he and his friends were drinking he took his
last drink. To these outings the girls bring, in a woven, hickory
basket, a dinner for two. The baskets are auctioned, the proceeds are
given to some church charity, and the purchaser and the girl have dinner
together. They are often expensive parties to a serious-minded mountain
swain who can not surrender the day's privileges to a rival or will not
yield his dignity and rights to fun-makers who enliven the biddings by
making the basket, brought by "his girl," cost at least as much as a
marriage license.
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