The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1894-10-17

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'tGoodva cried the surgeon
"She1l Anniel'' chorused the sergeant
and the corporal i'm q breath.
Here, give me your canteen, Otto, =
said the surgeon. Hold her head up,
auntie, !" and sprinkling a few drops on
the tiny head he continued: Shell An
ME, I baptiza thee in the name OF the
Father, Son and Holy Ghost, and may
they ever protect thee as has the God of
battle today. Now, Otto, the sergeant
will remain with a file of men until
moring, and you may remain with
them, for you look tired and worn out,
my boy.
At the word OF command the other
soldiers took up the line of march, and
faint and fainter grew the roar and
rumble Of the departing legions, rolling
on irresistibly to match their blue bill
lows with the blue waves Of the distant
sea. 3we@.rae
Twenty years after the furling of the
flags the battlefield of Jonesboro was a
corntield, and the rustling rows of the
crested corn hid from view the almost
obliterated traces of strife. Peace and
plenty reigned, and the one armed vet
Of the north was hobnobbing with
the peg legged veteran of the south as
they laughingly recounted the expert
ences of the war.
Asheville had become a great resort for
summer visitors from all sections on ac-
count of its quietude, its healthful air
and water and its splendid scenic sur
roundings.
AS the train slowed mp at the little
station a man. apparently blessed with
all the activity of youth, bat bearing
about him that unmistakable air of ma
turity that indicates intimate knowl-
edge Of and rough experience with life,
stepped on the platform and strolled up
the hill toward the hotel.
The dusky twilight of the dying sum-
mer day softened the rugged outlines of
the gloomy mountains, and the tinkle of
q crystal stream made music in the
thickets below.
Suddenly the stranger was startled by
a wild cry, and around a turn of the
road came a horse at full speed, and in
the buggy, swaying to and fro at his
heels, there was a fiutter OF white.
Springing forward and dropping his
belongings, the stranger clutched the
reins of the frightened animal and ar
rested his mad career. but the shock was
so sudden that the occupant of the buggy
was tossed into the bushes by the road,
side.
Releasing the horse, which stood
trembling with fear and excitement, the
stranger gently lifted the PROSTATE form,
and as the crowd from the hotel came
rushing to the spot she opened her eyes
in a dazed and startled way.
"Are you hurt much?'' asked the
stranger. @
"No, thank You, / was only fright
ened. / had just got into the buggy
and was going for a ride when he be-
came frightened and ran away. Oh,
how can / ever thank your"
BEST by not mentioning it again, -
said the stranger brusquely, handing
her his card as he resigned her to her
friends and walked away.
On the following morning the stran-
ger arose late after his fatiguing jour-
ney, and when he went down to break
fast beside his plate was q little per-
fumed note, and he opened IL and read
Ii, half amused and half in wonder:
MR.. OTTo BARDEN-Permit me TO thank you
and to convey to you the grateful feelings of
my friends for your brave action In r~escuing
me from my p~erilous position yesterday. As
d partial recognition Of our kindness, i wish
to extend to You an invitation to enjoy a Pic
MIC excursion with Ms today. IL Ii my birth
day. Please do not fail to come. Gratefully,
ANNIE FoNTAMEs
On a blank leaf from his notebook
Barden wrote q line accepting the invi-
tation and then leisurely finished his
breakfast.
The day was perfect, and as the spe-
oial guest of the heroine OF the day he
thought he had never felt quite so near
at peace with himself and all mankind
N he did while lounging on the green
grass beneath the shadow Of the tall
hemlocks at the foot OF the mountain
with pretty Annie Fontaine.
Chatting in a desultory way, Barden
suddenly recalled the day and the
drama OF 90 years ago.
do you know said he, '.that / was
one Of those Yanks that marched with
Sherman TO the scar.
Indeed? Why, You must have been
q very youthful soldier"
II was a drummer boy, and this day
90 years ago I was in the battle OF
Jonesboro."
And so was l." said she, with a
saucy smile, ''for that was my birthday
and the place of my nativity"
"Whatl'' he cried, springing to his
feet excitedly. Then you are, you must
be-
"Shell Annie, she replied.
-
There are some stories that ought to
be concluded before they are begun, but
this, which is as true as--yes, truer than
-most history, reached its natural con.
Clusion then and there, and the Penn.
sylvania drummer boy now owns q Of
the finest fruit farms around Jonesboro,
and the mistress of that southern home
liz Shell Annie. Atlanta Journal.