San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-11-28

that firm and soldierly face, but the
eyes CLEAN clear and clean as ever they
shone a quarter century ago,w 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 a single glance, and touches
the visor of his forage cap as he moves
slowly by, then m an aid, gives
him a low toned order, and the officer
reins aside to let his comrades pass, then
joys back down the avenue to meet the
column. And now necks are craning on
every side, and q murmur runs along
the crowded banquette,
A murmur that fain would break forth in a
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 pallid from his wounds,
but erect and soldierly as ever, the Sc
nior major, dear old Berrien, lowers
his saber in acknowledgment of the sa-
lutte of the aid, bends his ear to listen
to the message, glances quickly at the
balcony into the smiling face of his
wife, meeting Winifred's dark and
glowing eyes, but shakes his head, mo-
tons to DR.. Holden, who is at his left
rear, and ambles on. Holden mods ap-
p~reciatively 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 wife'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
clinking steadily by. Hazlett has
glanced out of the corners of his eyes at
the lovely picture on the gallery, but,
riding at attention as they are, and on
duty, he makes no sign. Randolph and
Ridgeway, heading their platoons, strive
to do two things at once-look as though
they saw and appreciated the tiuttering
greetings of hand and handkerchief and
smiling eyes totheir right, and still look
as though they did not see it at all. The
~sorrels, the grays have gone by, the bay
troop is passing, and now yOnder comes
Gorham over on the other side of the
street, the nearest he can get to his regu-
lation position of four yards to the left
of his leading platoon, and out from the
sheltering screen of tree branches and
in front of the center of the first sub
division of the blacks, his saber arm
still in it's sling, his face pale with con-
finelnent and suffering, but tall and stall
wart rides Curly.
ooh, there's Mr.. Brewster! Mr.. Brew
steri Oh. why doesn't he look?". cries
Miss Guthrie, as the handkerchiefs be-
gin waving furiously, and fair, eager
faces press forward in the effort to at
tract his attention-all but Winifred,
who, though bravely smiling like the
rest, is clutching with trembling hands
the back of her mothers chair and
shrinking behind her mothers form. 1t
is impossible for him not to see the fiut-
tering signals. He half glances toward
that thronging gallery, and in a second
the light leaps to his eyes, a flush to his
pallid cheek. Instinctively his arm
twitches in the effort of the hand to
reach the cap visor, and the instant
twinge of shooting pain brings him to
his senses. He has n brief, fieeting
look, however, at the beaming face he
loves, and he has just time for a half
gesture with the bride hand, a little
nod, and then, as on he rides, he feels
rather than sees that one sweet face
that beamed upon him has suddenly
paled, that one graceful form is now
staggering back into Holden's waiting
and expectant arms. Only two platOons
in the black troop today, for the others
sleep beneath the wintry sod or still Ian
guish in the hospital ward. Only two
p~latoons. Brewster heads the first; a
tall, dark eyed, dark mustached SER
geant the second.
There's Sergeant Ellis!' cries Mrs.
Berrien, in her pride and pleasure.
And he's shaved off his beard. Did
you ever see him look so young and
well?"
But Mrs. Holden, too, has turned, and
does not heed. Her watchful eyes, her
attentive ears, have other work to do.
Obedient to her husbands touch, she has
drawn close to his side. 1t is into her
arms and his that, with one quick, gasp
ing, stifled cry, Mia Guthrie has fallen
as though stricken by a boltfrom heaven.
Ii Is hv these loving arms the linn and