The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1895-05-31

these occasions of parade he was SOL
der, with head erect and shoulders thrown
back, his step keeping perfect time to
the rataplan of the drums and his OLD
heart swelling with the martial music that
filled all the air with brass.
Garfield Post never objected TO Rum
mage's company and its members would
have felt that something was missing had
the old man kept away. They would have
felt, too, that matters were out of joint had
he failed ever to appear on Memorial day
to do his share toward honoring the dead.
1t was not much that he could do, but that
was done bravely. This was, first to stand
near the cannon when the salute was fired,
his ordinarily dull eyes shining with a
wistful black brilliancy that made start
ling contrast to his deeply bronzed face
and his snowy hair; second, to march in
the rear of the veterans, tricked out in the
ancient and ragged habiliments OF Union
artilleryman. 1t did nobody harm and
was pleasure to him; and what if it was
only hallucination that he had right to
participate?
And thus it was that old Rummage
marched bravely forth to his last celebra-
ton. There are persons who will say to-
thing that they saw that day. 1t was
thus:
The flag rolled out gracefully from the
tall pole which stood in the center Of the
memorial lot. A hymn had been sung
and prayer rendered up, and the orator
had just closed his address recounting the
herolsm of the men whom all present had
assembled to honor. At that moment
on ST IF uyi,d h. Of Oh
top of the pole, and as the colors came
| floating down there dashed forward with
impetuous force, pushing way violently
through the orderly ranks of the veterans
| assembled in a square about the lot, the
strange, wild figure of an old man, white
haired, dressed in the frayed uniform of an
artilleryman, cap covering the red ban
danna that bound his head, his black eyes
blazing with light that none had ever
seen in them before, every line of his
deeply wrinkled face strained with the
ardor and excitement of battle, and his
whole frame a clamorous proclamation OF
the soldier eager to stake his life on the
issue.
Down swept the brave colors, enYelop.
ing him as mantle, from underneath
| which he quickly dug his way to freedom.
|
at the upper edge of the flag was between
his teeth, and before it was possible to
interfere or even to grasp his intention he
had attacked the pole and with amazing
strength and agility was proceeding to
scale it. Old Rummage had not forgotten
the daring venture OF Black Harry at
Gettysburg.
a deep stiffness rested upon the thou
sands assembled there, for it was seen that
the wry and slumbering wits of the harm
! less old man had broken out in madness,
and that always is an awful thing Before
a hand could be raised to stay him he had
dragged the flag out of reach in his ascent
OF the pole. There was then nothing to do
| but wait.
Higher and higher went the madman,
achieving that which to many a sane
young man would have been impossible.
His strength never tagged, and he was as
agile and sure as sailor. The pole began
to sway ominously as he neared the top,
and there were many who realized that it
was slender and old and could bear a mans
weight only by a miracle. Still upward he
went, until finally, just as he reached up to
secure the other end of the cord at the top
of the pole, the dreaded thing occurred.
! The tall pole swayed heavily, began to
bend and crack, and then parted with a
crash below him. He turned quickly, fell
| face downward, and as the upper fragment
of the pole came gathering to the ground
his breast struck the sharp point of the
lofty stump, and there the poor mailman
hung impaled; and those who had the
heart to look upward saw the strange,
wild light in his eyes quickly grow dim,
and then the white hair stray. windblown
and unheeded, across the deeply wrinkled
face. But between his white teeth-the
cleaning of which between his parted lips
could be seen from below-was still firmly
held the flag that he loved, which, caught
in the arms of the leisurely wind that was
passing along, rolled out majestically be-
tween earth and heaven.
When the limp body was at last brought
to the ground and the old bandana re-
moved, there was found upon the head an
ugly scar, which, an old army surgeon
said, must have been left by fragment of
shell. But more interesting than that
was the discovery that the flag of the
Union, done in its proper colors was tat
tooed in large size, covering the dead
mans breast, and that the center of it had
been pierced by the fagpole. Stranger
still, beneath the flag were found the tat
tooed initials, III. Az
And to this day there are those who be-
lieve with old Rummage that a soldier
may live even though shell may have
taken away his head, provided his heart
remains whole and sound and full of gen.
tleness toward all living things, and
strong with love for the flag under which
he had fought; and it is these, also, who.
shuddering at the recollection of what
they saw on that strange day, wonder if
the daring artilleryman who lost his head
at Gettysburg had not, after all, met a
fitting end