Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1890-10-31
SERGEANT SINGLETON.
BY REBA GREGORY pRELAr.

"Guide me, oh, Thou great Jehovah, ="
sang the powerful chorus of BOYS as
mother played the sweet old tune upon
the organ.
1t was an impressive and pathetic
group, for soldiers filled the lower part
of the park, and the sound of military
music came every now and then to break
the harmony of the hymn.
Nothing could have daunted those
fresh voices, just as nothing could have
daunted their brave little hearts. They
sang, as they were going to fight by and
by, with courage and persistence.
Wilton, the eldest, would have grand
bass some time, and even now the lower
notes were splendid, when they "got
there" Rupert, the second, sang with
high, clear tenor, such as used to
make the masses splendid in the old
cathedrals at Rome.
The little boys supplied rippling
treble, and the mothers tender alto
made the chords complete.
She did not look like Spartan moth
er, but she was trying, and not vainly,
to act the part.
Her tw> eldest were going to join in
that terrible struggle, which bore so
many boys away, to act the part of men,
while still in the morning of life. The
father was absent with a sabre
at his side and epaulettes on his should
ers.
All that loving and pious rearing could
do had been done for them; her active
work must be over for time; she could
only watch and pray!
Welton looked grown and stately in
his uniform, for he was the kind of fel-
low to carry off prescribed dress of
any sort with dignity.
Once committed to anything, he re-
garded himself as the exponent of the
whole, and tried to reflect credit upon it.
Rupert looked SO young and slim and
handsome that she could hardly see him
through her tears, but he made great
effort to keep his own eyes dry.
They were wonderful eyes, of the blue
one sees in the sky when the sun is very
warm and there are no clouds about.
The clarion sounded the signal of war.
The soldiers were waiting for her darlings
at the second gate.
"Oh! for a last inspiration" was her
agonizing thought. Some one final mes
sage of love, that should remain with
them through all that terrible campaign.
Like flash of answer it came to her.
She stood for a moment almost trans
figured IN the girlish beauty, which ma
ternity had been powerless to change.
''Promise me, my sons" she cried,
''that every day when the twilight comes
mo matter where you are, you will sing
one verse of this hymn: Guide me, Oh,
Thou great jehovah He will guide
you, if you believe and trust in Him."
They promised her, and the battle
cloud that swept the land bore them
from her sheltering arms.
The last thing they saw was her slen-
der figure standing upon the portico,
with smile upon her beautiful face
which nearly cost her hearts blood.
That night they marched out of Mary
land.
y
Two years later dark young man, in
uniform that would have been tattered
but for repeated and skillful darning,
stood before his commanding officer.
swell, Sergeant Singleton, what do
you want2" said the veteran kindly, for
the on-commissioned officer was great
favorite.
81 want leave for two days, Major,
and no questions asked. l want to get
back my brother, who was taken prisoner