The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1893-03-07
cApT. TOMS PROMISE.
BY EMalA eARRIsoN JoNRs.
.1Good .bye. littIe mother!,,

woman in widows weeds.
aGood- bye, Tom, my good boy" "
standing on tiptoe to kiss him;
ssyou'II not forget mother when
you're gomez"
He looked down, aud his keen,
blue gray eyes filled with tears, and
the firm lips, beneath his tawny
beard, trembled like a woman's
No, mother" a half-sob in his
voice eI'll not forget you"
II know you won't, my good,
handsome Tom,' she responded,
patting and caressing his arm with
her childish, dimpled hands. '.You
never caused your mothers heart
an k5ut's sorrow IN all your life, and
you'll not begin now / shall pray
for you INCREASINGLY, 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 Bfble," drawing a small
package from her bosom; "your
father and used to read it together.
Mind, Tom, dear, and make it your
guide and companion, and you'll
mover go astray. Army life is full
of temptations, my boy, but for
little mothers sake you'll not yield
to them?"
"No, mother"
"And, Tom, dear, you'll abstain
from strong drink-you won't look
on the wine when it's rcd2' You'll
promise me that?p
''Yes, little mother
Cali right; you'll not break your
promise, I'm sure of that. When
ever your companions press you to
join them in the 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 sec it, mother.
Goodbye again there goes the bu-
gle-I must be off. Take care of
yourself, little mother"
"Aye, aye, Toni"
lie slung his knapsack across his
broad shoulders and strobe down
the dewey lane, the summer sun
SHINE falling brightly on his burn
ishcd arms and soldier blue. In an
hours time he had joined his regi-
ment, and was under marching or
ders for the seat of war.
A sultry summer night in South
ern Virginia. The sky hot and
brassy, a lurid, crescent moon hang,
ing over the smoky fields and long
lines of shimmering bayonets.
A group of officers were drinking
and chatting in the colonel's tent.
"Come, Tom, my lad" said a
gray bearded old major, addressing
the tall young captain of cavalry
company; "come, my lad, here's a
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
evening. His head throbbed with a
dull pain, and a choking sensation
at his throat almost stiff1ed him.
The pending engagement would be
his first battle, and, despite his tall
figure and sinewy limbs, and tawny
beard, poor Toms heart thrilled and
throbbed with something that was
almost fear.
He craved the clear, fiery liquor
that sparkled SO temptingIy. 1t
would make him strong for the ter
rible conflict in which he must soon
take part. He took the brimming
glass from the majors hand. The
officers rose in a mass, clanking their
sabres.
"Here goes" cried the colonel.
clinking his glass against that of his
nearest neighbor; swell pledge our
absent wives and little sweethearts
boysl"
He drained his glass and dozen
others followed his example; but
tall captain Tom put down his, still
brimming and untasted. He had nc
wife or sweetheart in the far-off New
England village where he was born.
but he had his "little motherl"
And in that moment of supreme
temptation, her sweet, fair face
seemed to rise between him and the
fatal glass, and her voice spoke in
his ear:
aNo, Tom, don't for little moth.
er's' sakel"
He put down his glass untasted
Never in all his brave young life
had he willfully disobeyed his "little