The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1893-04-26
CAPT. TOMS PROMISE.
aGood-by. little motherln

CAPl. 1OM > GROM1SE.
"Good-by, little mother!"
She came out into the morning sun
shine at the sound of her sons voice,
a little. shapely girlish-faced woman
in widows weeds.
"Good-by, Tom, my good boy,"
standing on tiptoe to kiss him; "you'n
not forget mother when you're gomez"
He looked down and his keen, blue
gray eyes filled with tears and the firm
lips beneath his tawny beard trembled
like woman's.
mo, mother" half-sob in his voice,
"11l not forget YOU"
Il know you won't, my good hand
some Tom," she responded, patting
and caressing his arm with her child
ish, dimpled hands. "You never
caused your mothers heart an hours
sorrow in all your life, and you'll not
begin now. / shall pray for you un-
ceasingly, and you'll come back to me,
Tom. 1 am sure the good God will
bring you back to me. One word
more, Tom. Here's my little bible,"
drawing a small package from her
bosom; "your father and I used to
read it together. Mind, Tom dear,
and make it your guide and COM
panion, and you'll never go astray.
Army life is full of temptations, my
boy, but for little mother's' sake you'll
not yield to themP"
mo, mother"
"And, Tom, dear, you'll abstain from
strong drink-you won't look on the
wine when it's redr You'll promise,
me that?"
Eyes, little mother"
"An, right; you'll not break your
promise, I'm sure of that. Whenever
your companions press you to join
them in social glass, think of little
mother Tom. 1t would break my
heart to see my boys handsome head
brought low by strong drink"
@You shall never see it, mother.
Good-by again-there goes the bugle
I must be off. Take care of your
self, little mother"
cay, ay, Tom!'
He slung his knapsack across his
broad shoulders and strobe down the
dewy line, the summer sunshine fall
ing brightly on his FURNISHED arms
and soldier blue. In an hours time
he had joined his regiment, and was
under marching orders for the seat of
war.
A su1try summer night in southern
Virginia. The sky hot and brassy,
lurid, crescent moon hanging over the
smoky fields and long lines of shim-
mering bayonets.
A group of officers were drinking
and chatting in the colonel's tent.
"Come, Tom, my lad," said gray
bearded old major. addressing the tall
young captain of a cavalry company;
"come, my lad, here's glass of good
old whisky to cool your blood and
fire your courage. We've bloody work
to do before the moon goes down."
He extended the brimming glass,
and Tom put out his hand to receive it.
He was out of sorts that sultry even
ing. His head throbbed with dull
pain. and choking sensation at his
throat almost stifed him. The pend
ing engagement would be his first bat
tie, and, despite his tall figure and
sinewy limbs. and tawny beard, poor
Toms heart thrilled and throbbed
with something that was almost fear.
He crayed the clear, frey liquor that
sparkled so temptingly. 1t would
make him strong for the terrible con-
flict in which he must soon take part.
He took the brimming glass from the
majors hand. The officers rose in
mass, clanking their sabers.
"Here goes" cried the colonel. clink-
ing his glass against that of his near
est neighbor; well pledge our abb
sent wives and sweethearts, boysw
He drained his glass, and dozen
others followed his example; but tall
Capt. Tom put down his, still brim-
ming and untasted. He had no wife
or sweetheart in the far-off New Eng
| land village where he was born, but he
had his little mother!'
And in that moment of supreme
| temptation, her sweet, fair face SEEM
| ed to rise between him and the fatal
| glass, and her voice spoke in his ear:
mo, Tom, don't for little mothers
sake!"
He put down his glass untasted.
Never in all his brave young life had he
willfully disobeyed his little mother"
never since the hour when his father
died and gave her to his keeping had
he caused her a moments pain. He
would not do so now. She would
know-some subtle influence, flashing
like electric fire from the southern bat
tle-ground to the old cottage amid the
green New England hills, would warn
her if he broke his promise and yield
ed to temptation.
"Why, what's up cap'n?" cried the
major. Haven't turned teetotaler,
have you, old boy? Come, down with
your whisky"
But Tom shook his head, and, heed
less of their jeers and laughter, turned
away, leaving the sparkling glass un-
tasted
The desperate charge was over, and,
like the heroes of Balaklava, only a
few returned. Capt. Tom was not
among the number. He lay prostrate
on the blood-stained battlefield, and
the list of dead that went up to New
England bore his name.
In her desolate cottage his "littlt
mother" read it, with the account o
the heroic onset, and mourned for hel
slain soldier as only fond mother
can.
Meanwhile in a southern hospita
scores of wounded soldiers lay, burneC
, by consuming fevers that no skill coulC
ally.
: "Can't save them-not one." said tht
:: surgeon on his round. "The who'll
pack were drunk when they went t.
! battle and this is the result. Th
Z whisky has fed the fever, you see
2 That fellow out there, pointing to tn
tall figure of Capt. Tom stretched up
on cot, may get up; he was sober:
The summer was we'll over. U
. amid the New England villages tn
grain was waving yellow on the hill
and in the orchards the fruit hung L
luscious, golden clusters
But hundreds of homes were mad