The Republican., 1893-05-11

our village was illuminated. Rows o
tallow candles in every window, fire
works in n vacant field and torchligh
procession! Old John marched at it
head in full regimentals, straight as
| ramrod, the hero of the night.
His son had been promoted sergean
for bravery on the field We boy
thought the old army of Wellington
kept ghostly step with John Locke, ,whilC
aerial drums pealed and beat with re
joicing at the new glory of English
speaking men.
After that the old man again wore
his medal concealed. The Chinese wal
of 1857 was too contemplate to cele
brate by displaying his badge of Water
loo.
Then came the dreadful tale of the
Sepoy mutiny-Meerut, Delhi, Gavin
pore After the tale of Mana Sahibs
massacre was read to old John he never
smiled, think.
Week after week, month after month,
as hideous tidings poured rapidly in,
his face became more haggard. gray
and dreadful. The feeling that he was
too old for use seemed to shame him.
He no longer carried his head high as
of yore. That his son was not march
ing behind Havelocll with the aveng-
ing army seemed to cut the veteran
sorely. Sergt. Locke had sailed with
the old regiment to join Outram in
Persia before the Sepoys broke loose.
I'm feared something's gone wrong
with my heart"
Months went by before we learned
that the troops for Persia had been
stopped on their way and thrown into
India against the mutineers. At that
news old John marched into the village
with prouder air than he had worn
for many days. His medal was again
displayed on his breast
1t was but the next month, I think,
that the village lawyer stood reading
aloud the account of a great Sepoy fort.
The veteran entered the post Office and
all made way for him. The reading
went on:
"The blowing open of the eastern
gate was the grandest personal exploit
of the attack. 1t was performed by
native sappers covered by the fire of
tie Sixtieth regiment and headed by
Lieuts. Howe and Sallxeld, Sergts.
Smith, Carmichael, Burgess and Locke"
The lawyer paused. Every eye turned
to the face of the old Waterloo soldier.
He Strengthened up to keener attention,
threw out his chest, tapped the glorious
medal and SO saluted the names of the
brave.
"God be praised, my son was there!
he said. Read on"
''Sergt. Carmichael, while laying the
powder, was killed, and the native
havildar wounded. The powder having
been laid, the advance party slipped
down into the ditch to allow the firing
party, under Lieut.. Salkeld, to do its
duty.
while trying to fire the charge he
was shot through one leg and arm. He
sank, but handed the match to Sergt.
Burgess, who was at once shot dead.
Sergt. Locke, already wounded severe
ly in the shoulder, then seized the
mach and succeeded in firing the train.
He iell at that moment, literally riddled
with bullets"
Read on" said old John, in a deeper
voice. All forbore to look twice upon
his face.
Others of the party were falling
when the mighty gate was blown to
fragments, and the Oxford light in
faatry, under Col. Campbell, rushed
into the breach"
There was long silence in the post
office till old John spoke once more.
The Lord God be thanked for all
His dealings with us. My son, Sergt.
Locke, died we'll for England"
Nervously lingering the medal on his
breast, the old soldier wheeled about
and marched proudly straight down
the middle of the village street to his
lone v cabin
The villagers never saw him in life
again. Next day he did not appear.
All refrained from intruding on his
mourning. But in the evening, when
the rector heard of his parishioner's loss,
he walked to old Johns home.
There, stretched upon his straw bed,
he lay in his antique regimentals, stiller
than at attention, all his medals
fastened below that of Waterloo above
his quiet neart
His right hand lay on an open Bible
His face wore an expression of looking
forever and ever upon Sergt. Locke
and the Great Commander who takes
back unto Him the heroes He fashions
to sweeten the world. Toronto Mail.