Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1892-09-29
"A whose soldier heart has felt for them


ment is within easy call, he means that
the people shall see for themselves what
manner of men are these whom press
and pulpit have assailed, and against
whose fair fame the shafts Of Islander
have been hurled, only to fall blunted
and broken or, like boomerangs, come
hurting back about the ears OF the
thrower. INDICATED by the verdict OF
his peers, doubly indicated by the
highest powers of the land, gray haired
Farquhar is chosen to command the es-
,ort. and. though the flower of the ma
tons soldiery marches in the funeral
train this day. the eyes of all the gath
cred throng are strained to see and hail
and honor the standard and the guidons
of the men who bore the brunt of battle
only two short months gone by.
And with the squadrons and the guns
from Pawnee came such of the wounded
officers as We're well enough to be trans
ported hither. and with them half a
dozen of the ladies of the garrison. To
the huge delight of the old battalion,
two of whose troops are cruelty thinned
in numbers now, the jovial major is per-
mitted by DIR. Holden to mount "Old
Glory and take his position in front of
the line. To the tremulous joy of Wini-
fred Berrien. Mr.. Brewster has tele-
graphed from Washington, whittier he
was summoned Immediately after the
close of the investigation at the agency,
bidding them bring his horse and equip
ments, for even though he cannot draw
saber he means to ride with 1.-THE black
troop on this day of days. She has not
seen him since that wonderful morning
when, like a young snow king, he burst
through the feecy barriers about them
and stood before her rejoicing eyes their
rescuer. her fathers preserver, her lover,
her hero: and ever since in his pride he
has held aloof from her and all she
holds dear. She can hardly hush the
huttering of her heart as now, near at
hand. she hears the familiar strains of
the trumpets of the Twelfth, still sound
ing the mournful dead march. Other
ladies of the Twelfth are here-Mrs.
Hazlett. Mrs. Gorham and Mrs. War
rem: and small wonder can there be that
their soft eyes fill with tears. Ever since
the brief and bloody campaign the sad,
solemn tones have been their daily
music. The Grape is not yet rusting on
the sword hits of their lords. worn in
honor of poor Thorpe and Rand and
Burrows, when it is renewed for the
general in chief.
And now the crowds have drifted
back from the asphalt. The platoon OF
mounted police has slowly clattered by.
Then in long rank, boot to boot, muffied
in their blue overcoats, the yellow lined
capes turned back, led by their veteran
chief and guiding their spirited grays
with hardly touch of rein, the truIn-
peters of the Twelfth cover the street
from curb to curb, the brazen bells up
lifted and pouring forth their mourn
full strains. A little space, and then,
mounted on mettlesome bay in the rich
housings of general officer, there rides
the marshal of the parade, followed by
rank after rank of staff officers, all in
the soInber dark blue of the service. The
autumn frosts of a vigorous life have
silvered the strands at his temple and
tinged with rudy glow the cheeks of
that firm and soldierly face, but the
ewes CLEAN clear and clean as ever they
shone quarter century ago, when he
and Farquhar spurred through the misty
forest aisles about Dinwiddie and led
the cheering troopers TO the charge on
Pickett's crouching line at the Forks.
He knows the fair party on the Guthrie
balcony at single glance. and touches
the visor of his forage cap as he moves
slowly by, then summons an aid, gives
him a low toned order, and the officer
reins aside to let his comrades pass, then
jogs back down the avenue to meet the
column. And now necks are craning on
every side, and murmur runs along
the crowded banquette,
A murmur that fain would break forth in
| cheer
but for the solemn occasion of their
coming. Eyes CLEAN and brighten; lips
stir with inarticulate greeting; hands,
kerchiefs and hats are waved in voice
less acclaim. ANY other time and all
the great city would burst into tumultu-
Gus cheer. for here rides gray haired
Farquhar at the head of his staff, and
Just behind them. commanding the
Twelfth. still pallil from his wounds,
but erect and soldierly as ever. the Sc
Nor major. dear old Berrien, lowers
his saber in acknowledgment Of the sa-
lutte of the aid bends his ear to listen
to the message. Chances quickly at the
balcony into the smiling face Of his
wife, meeting Winifred's dark and
glowing eyes. but shakes his head, mo-
tions to Dr. Holden, who is at his left
rear. and ambles on. Holden mods APP
preciatively IN receipt Of what seems
to be a similar message. reins out OF
column, followed by his orderly. dis
mounts at the side street. and presently
is standing by his witc's side, welcomed
most cordially BY Miss Guthrie to the
now crowded balcony
In column Of platoons stretching from
walk to walk, clear across the street,
ranks carefully aligned, every mans
head and eyes straight to the front, the
leading troops of the Twelfth are now