davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31

tervals the mufi1ed sound of the martial
music, now rising and swelling, now
softly dying away.
The colonel slowly and laboriously
picked his way among the graves, stop
ping now and then to read a name or
date. At last he came to a we'll kept in
closure, and parting the climbing rose
vines passed in. Yes, here was what he
sought. A smooth white slab told the
world that Here lies Captain Charles
Dennison, 10th Regiment, Pennsylvania
Volunteers, with the added verse;:
On flames eternal camping ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And glory guards with ceaseless round
The bivouac of the dead.
The poor old colonel was so overcome
at beholding, after SO many years, the
tomb of his favorite officer that, show
ering the grave with the costliest flow
ers he had been able to procure, he bent
his head upon his hands and sobbed
aloud.
A sound near him made him raise his
head.
On the other side of the grave stood
the major.
The two men looked steadfastly at
each other for a moment.
Colonel" the major was first to
speak, "what was Captain Charles Den
nison to you?"
ga beloved officer, SIR" said the
colonel, struggling to choke back his
emotions. 81 loved him like son, sir.
I only learned this morning that he was
buried here'- He broke off, unable
further to proceed.
"And are these your fowers?" asked
the major.
The colonel only bowed his head.
81 thank you, sir, said the major in
his most stately and winning manner,
''for this kindly tribute to one of my
family
"Your family?" gasped the colonel
"Yes, Captain Charles Dennison was
my youngest brother, sir.
The colonel recoiled as if he had been
struck. But in an instant, recovering
himself, he courteously dotted his hat,
and extending his long hand over the
grave said simply, "Will you forgive
me, MAORI"
And as the sun dipped down behind
the mountains it sent its last rays across
two battered, manned old heroes going
away arm in arm from the grave Of Cap
tain Charles Dennison.
And the north and the south once
more were reunited.
EDITH SESSIONS UPPER
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31

ablebodied men to enlist. Early in the
third he had himself marched away as
their captain, with the young men from
his own congregation who had offered
themselves to their country. If the boy
was doubtful about his fathers safety
before the deacon spoke, he was not aft
erward. 1t seemed to his young mind as
if the deacon has said between his audi
BILE words:
''The elder is killed, boy! Do you
hear? Killed.
| John hurried into the house with his
pail of cherries. kissed his mother and
started on run for the postoffice. 1t
was hot day, but he did not mind the
heat. It is doubtful if he knew it was
hot. He thought only of the bare posi-
bility that he might get letter address
ed to his mother or himself in his ia
theirs dear handwriting and he ran till
nature was exhausted and he had to
stop and rest under the shadow Of big
buttonball tree by the side of the road.
| When he had regained his breath, he
started on again, but this time at a
more moderate pace, and as he ap-
preached the little general store where
the postoffice was kept his footsteps
Jagged. He was afraid he would receive
the same answer that he had for days.
Nothing today, sonny Tell your
mother the papers missed this week.
| No, there is no letter. I swan, I wish
there was
That was just the answer the boy did
receive when at last he crept into the
store between rows of two tined hay
forks and wooden hand rakes. but there
was this addition by the kindly old post
master to the dreaded words that told
the story of no mail:
"Tell your mother that we may get
another mail today, and if we do We'll
send anything that comes for you right
up"
There was no regular service to the
little postoffice, for no railroad ran
through the narrow valley, but the mail
was brought from the county seat, IL
miles distant, at intervals by any one
who went that way.
During the boys weary homeward
tramp through the dust and under the
burning rays of the sun he thought only
of how he should tell his mother there
was still no mail
When he reached home, he found a
half dozen white haired farmers, all
clad in Sunday black, standing about the
yard under the shade of the trees. There
were no young or middle aged men
there, for all such in that neighborhood
had gone to the war with their beloved
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31
G0: I

How bright the honors which await those
who with sacred fortitude and patriotic pa
thence, have endured all things that they might
save their native land from division and from
the power of corruptionI The honored deadI
They that died for a good cause are redeemed
from death. Their names are gathered and
garnered. Their memory is precious Each
place grows proud for them who were born
there There is to be ere long in every village
and in every neighborhood a glowing pride in
its martyred heroes. Tablets shall preserve
their names. Pious love shall renew their in
scriptions as time and the unfeeling elements
decay them. And the national festivals shall
give multitudes of precious names to the ora
tors lips. Children shall grow up under more
sacred inspirations whose elder brothers, dy-
ing nobly for their country, left name that
honored and inspired all who bore it. Orphan
children shall find thousands of fathers and
mothers to love and help those whom dying
heroes left as legacy to the gratitude of the
public.
Oh, tell me not that they are dead, that gem
erous host, that airy army of invisible heroesi
They hover as a cloud of witnesses above this
nation. Are they dead that yet speak louder
that we can speak, and a more universal Ian
guage? Are they dead that yet act? Are they
dead that yet move upon society and inspire
the people with nobler motives and more he
roic patriotism?
Ye that mourn, let gladness mingle with
your tears. He was your son, but now he is
the nations. He made your households bright.
Now his example inspires thousand house
holds. Dear to his brothers and sisters, he is
now brother to every generous youth in the
land. Before he was narrowed, appropriated,
shut up to you. Now he is augmented, set
free and given to all. He has died from the
family that he might live to the nation. Not
one name shall be forgotten or neglected, and
it shall by and by be confessed, as of an an
Gent hero, that he did more for his country
by his death than by his whole life.
Henry Ward Beecher.
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31

sQuadrOns wheeling down the hill, the
artillery massing in the valley, the sig
nal rockets piercing the sky. l can hear
the bugle"-
He broke off suddenly. The major
had risen and was facing him, his dark
eyes blazing, his face white and drawn.
Don't bring it up, colonel, F" he said
hoarsely. 81 can't tell you how it makes
me feel. Do you suppose that /, too, do
not go back to those days, to all suf-
fered then and since? I have repressed
my emotions for years. But the volcano
is here, " touching his breast. II do not
wish it to break forth. -
cts great idea, replied the colo
mel testify, eff I cannot speak of night
scene in the late war without your fetch
ing me up so roundly. did not dream
2u had so bad temper, sir. -
MY temper is as even as yours, sir, +"
retorted the major, 'but can't you see it
is hard enough for me to witness these
scenes today without having the whole
CHASTITY panorama again unfolded before
me by your thoughtlessness, sir?''
The colonel lost his read. "Damme,"
he cried, 'you rebels never like to hear
anything for your good!"
81 beg your pardon, sir, - said the
major with ominous calmness, "did you
apply that term to me?''
81 did.
81 am not rebel, SIR" choked the
major. 81 fought for a hopeless-a sub
lime-cause. But now l support the
same flag you fought under. Remember
thatl After this, of course, we will not
have the honor of each others acquaint
ance," and with naughty bow the
major walked into the hotel.
The colonel thumped his cane on the
floor of the piazza. His face flushed.
'Devilish hot headed southerner, he
said, land yet charming fellow.
What companion he has been to mel
What a game of cribbage he played!
And now to go and spoil everything.
Dear, dear; it's too bad. How l shall
miss himp'
AS the colonel ruefully contemplated
the future a boy approached him with
his mail Eagerly Selling his letters he
sat down to read them and to forget the
unpleasant episode as quickly as pos
sible
One of his letters was from an old
army friend, man with whom he had
kept up an acquaintance born in fire and
smoke. A sentence in the letter ran as
follows: Curious thing you should be
in Halle Wells on Memorial day. That
was Dennisons wife's home, and I am
sure he is buried in the cemetery there.
You must throw flower on his grave
for me.
The colonel dropped the letter in
amazement. Dennison! Out of the past
there rose beautiful figure, with fear
less eyes, resolute lips, soft, fair hair,
gay, good humored, smiling face and
reckless, audacious air. What rare fell
low he was! Dennison, who feared nei-
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31
COLONEL AND MAJOR.

Copyright, 1895, by American Press Associa.
The colonel and the major sat on the
lotel piazza playing cribbage
The soft, balmy spring breeze now
nd then bore to their hearing the bIa-
ant fanfare of trumpets or the roll of
lrums. Everywhere their eyes were sa-
uted by the futtering folds of the stars
md stripes Occasionally they stopped
d their game to look at pretty little girls
Walking by, dressed in white, their tiny
rms filled with wreaths and bouquets,
r at the wagons rolling in from the
ountry laden with men and women,
fastening to attend the services which
kere to be held in the quiet village
graveyard on the hill yonder, where
pany dead heroes slept.
1t was an ideal Memorial day. The
Ky was clear as crystal and blue as
hpphires. Here and there it was loving
kissed by soft, f1eecy clouds. Birds
fere pouring forth showers of melody
Rom the trees, gay in their young spring
livery.
1.-The little town at the foot of the
fountains, lying purple in the soft,
winning sunlight, had taken on an air
T almost joyous festivity. The cheerful
oices, the flowers, the white dresses,
le flags and bunting conspired to rem
ser the scene one more like fete than
3membrance Only the solemn roll of
le drums at a distance reminded the
NO old warriors looking on at the pag-
ant what the day meant.
The colonel rose and walked to the
i'd of the piazza and leaning against one
{ the pillars stood there in thoughtful
Hence. The colonel limped a little
hen he walked. He had carried bull
It in his thigh since Gettysburg.
THE major, turning in his chair, re-
arded his friend. The light, striking
is fine old face, showed the ragged
,ar of saber cut he got at Fredericks-
1rg The two manned old fellows had
--ot known each other long. Both bad
rifted to this little mountain resort to
rink the waters, famous for their medic
lal properties They had met in the
otel, struck up friendship, walked,
liked and played cribbage together.
hough both had fought in the civil
ar, they tacitly tabooed the subject,
ar the colonel had fought like devil
the northern side, and the major had
E7ght like a tiger on the side Of the lost
Iuse.
But now the chords of memory were
rangely stirred. Up through the dark
trees guarding the cemetery there
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31

preacher. AS the boy entered the yard
one of the men hastily stuck newspa-
per, from which he had been reading to
the others, into his pocket.
In the little parlor of the white house
there were several women younger than
Deacon Nelson's wife. Their husbands
were soldiers, too, and at the front with
the preacher. The boy rs mother was sit
ting in the center Of circle of kneeling
women, her eyes set and fearless, but
there was sound of subdued sobbing
from some of the others. The deacon
was just beginning prayer.
"Dear Lord, our heavenly Father"
quavered the deacon in tender and rev.
erent tones. Then he stopped. What
was that?
The boys ear was not the only one
that caught the sound of fife and drum,
the fife playing merrily, Orally Round
the Flag, Boys, Rally Once Again.
you know how it sounds, reader-while
the drumsticks were beating out the
time in lively measure.
A moment more, and the rattle Of a
wagon coming down stony slope in
the road was heard Then there was a
cheer, and the fife and drum changed to
yankee Doodle" Presently the wagon,
in which sat the postmaster himself,
the blacksmith, the cooper and the boys
who were playing the fife and drum
drove noisily up The old postmaster al
most fell out of the wagon and stumbled
up the path to the door. He was quite
breathless, but he held aloft in his hand
big yellow envelope.
"It's from the elder, brethren! It's
from the elderp' he gasped. 81 know
his handwriting, and the postmark is
since the battle. Open it, ma'am, he
said to the boys mother, "and read it
out. "
Every body gathered around her as she
took the missive, but it wasn't opened
Just yet, for she tainted before she could
cut the envelope 1t was not long. 1t
said:
'DEAR WIFE AND Son JOHN have
been hurt little and lay on the field all
night, but it is not serious, and l shall
not even have to go to the hospital. So
do not be worried. We have won a
great victory, and our God will keep me
safely to the end and bring us all togeth-
er again..
''Let US sing the Doxology, Praise
God, from whom all blessings flow, I"
said Deacon Nelson, while his eyes
streamed. Then they all sang with the
snirit and the understanding also. When
the singing was over, the newspaper
that had been hidden from the boy was
brought out. 1t told of the battle of Get
tysburg, and the name of the elder was
in the list Of the missing.
The elder did live to come home again,
and on every Decoration day since the
establishment of that beautiful holiday
he has made talk over the soldiers
graves in the little cemetery back of the
church in the valley, of which he is still
pastor. l.. u MARSHALL
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31
FROM THE FRONT.

Copyright 1896, by American Press Associa-
ton.
1t was two story frame house,
painted white and with green blinds,
and it stood little way back from
/ the road that wound through a narrow
valley between low hills of second
growth timber. In front of the house
was big, heavily fruited cherry tree.
A boy was perched upon a ladder
among the branches, filling tin pail
with the ruby fruit, his fingers flying as
if he were competing with the birds,
who seemed to think they had a mort
gage on all the cherries in the neighbor-
hood. But his haste had another cause.
His mother had but moment before
told him that when he had filled the pail
three times he might go to the postofice,
mile farther down the valley, and in
quire for the mail.
The boy knew his mother to be quite
as anxious as he that the trip should be
made to the postoffice. For more than a
week his daily visit after the mail had
been fruitless, and he was certain she
was worrying, in spite of her usual air
of cheerfulness, for the head of the lit
tie family was at the front. wearing a
blue uniform, and vague rumors were
afloat of bloody battle in Pennsylva-
mia.
Singularly enough, the mail had late
ly failed to bring newspapers, as we'll as
letters, and it had not been possible to
borrow from the neighbors as usual. The
boy and his mother had not talked much
on the matter; but, whatever his mother
thought, he suspected bad news in the
papers-news that would explain why
there were no letters. He was impatient
to go to the postoffice, but he dreaded
the visit, too, and this made him climb
down the ladder slowly when at last
the pail was filled for the third time.
AS his feet touched the earth he heard
the rattle of wheels, and looking around
he saw Deacon Nelson's big bay horse
and decent black democrat wagon, driven
by the deacon himself, draw near. The
deacon's countenance, which was gen.
orally smiling and jolly, was very SOL
emn now, and the face of the deacon's
wife, who sat on the back seat under a
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31

ther man nor devil, who led wherever
hope was most forlorn, who was always
where the fight was hottest, who fell at
last, jest on his lips, struck to the
heart by southern bullet. A southern
er, too by birth and education, but who
broke away from tradition and environ
ment and drew his sword in defense of
his country's flag.
81 remember, now, his wife was a
northern girl. Dennison used to talk of
his home up in the Alleghanies. And it
was here? And his grave is over there?"
The colonel strained his eyes toward the
graveyard. "Just as soon as the crowd
gets away will so over and find it and
put a few flowers on it. Brave boy,
brave fellow. l am so glad Tom wrote
me-"
Meantime the major had passed
through a whirlwind Of passion and
sorrow alone in his room. What right
had this insolent, triumphant northern
er to stir him so? Why disturb those
depths in his bruised, aching old heart?
Over and over the southerner lived the
past, with its dreams of glory, it's futile
struggles, it's cruel disappointments.
Again he saw the idol of his boyish
dreams, as, vanquished, beaten, but still
heroic, he handed his conquered sword to
the victor Again he saw his home de-
stroyed, himself poor, forced to accept a
mental position, drifting about, bat
tered old wreck ON the sea of life, until
he had fallen in with this man, whom he
had honestly liked and who had need
lessly hurt him and opened the old
wounds afresh.
A knock at the door, and the major S
mail was handed him. AS he looked it
over he saw letter, directed in the well
known writing of his lawyer in Atlanta.
He broke it open and read it hurriedly
Then he sank back in his chair, and
from his closed eyes large tears slowly
dropped down over his SCARED face.
The sentence which had so profound
ly moved him was this: "She has left
her fortune to you, as her husband, your
brother, loved you SO. His grave is in
the cemetery of the very town where
you are now stopping. -
The afternoon sun poured flood of
dazzling light across the marble head
stones. whose solemn rigidity was sof-
tened by garlands Of flowers The crowd
had gone. Here and there stray visit
or yet wandered, reading the names cut
on the white stones. The solemn, pur-
pie mountains were rose flushed by the
sunset. Up from the village came at in
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31

gingham parasol, was tear stained. AS
the deacon slowly got out of the wagon
and tethered the horse he asked, with a
fine show Of cheerfulness:
''Has your mother heard from the
elder in day or two, John? No? Well,
Marthy and me was just driving by, and
we thought we'd make little visit, you
see, just to ask how your corn crop was
getting on, you know" Then, to his
wife in an undertone, he said: Nov,
be careful, Marthy. It's all right; it's
all right 1t must be all right, 1 tell
you.
The deacon was one of the chief pill
lars in the church of which the boys ia
ther, before going to the front, had been
pastor, and, like all in that neighborhood
and similar neighborhoods, the deacon
always spoke of his minister as "the
elder. This minister had been out
spoken in his patriotism during the first
year of the war. During the second he
had induced many of the neighborhood' s
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31
The Duty of the Living.

Our duty would be very incompletely
done if we contented ourselves by mere
ly chanting hosannahs to those who in
the past have given their lives to aid in
achieving these grand results unless we
can catch some inspiration to further
duty from the contemplation of their
sublime self sacrifice. It becomes us,
the living, to address ourselves with re-
newed energy and enlarged faithfulness
to the preservation and perpetuation of
these grand results Clinton Lloyd.
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31

Bring flowers to strew again
With fragrant purple rain
OF lilacs and of roses white and red
The dwellings of our Dead our glorious dead
Let the bells ring solemn funeral chime
And wild war music bring anew the time
When they who sleep beneath
We're full of vigorous breath
And in their lusty manhood sailed forth,
Holding in strong right hand
The fortunes of the land,
The pride and power and safety of the north.
Henry Peterson.
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31

This day is sacred to our heroes dead. Upon
their tombs we have lovingly laid the wealth
of spring. This is day for memory and tears.
mighty nation bends above its honored
graves and pays noble dust the tribute of its
love. Gratitude is the fairest flower that sheds
its perfume in the heart. Today we tell the his
tory of our countrys life, recount the lofty
deeds of vanished years, the toll and suffering,
the defeats and victories of heroic men, of men
who made our nation great and free. Today
we remember the defeats, the victories, the
disasters, the weary marches, the poverty, the
hunger, the sufferings, the agonies and above
all the glories of revolution. We remember all
from Lexington to Valley Forge and from
that midnight despair to Yorktown's cloudless
day. Robert G. Ingersoll
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31

Soldiers, who freely for our country's glory
Upheld our flag on southern hill and plain,
Long may your deeds be told in grateful story.
Ye have not lived in vain.
honor
That all our land united might be free,
May shine forevermore upon our banner
Each star for liberty.
Heroes, who toiled through all the dusty
marches
And life surrendered on those shot plowed
fields,
To We who fled where the blue sky o'erarches
Tribute nation yields.
William 81. Randall
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31

Oh, brothers, the days grow longer, and the
nights like glory shine,
And the love of our souls is stronger than the
heat and the fire of wine.
We were foes when the guns were frowning
from the walls that were grim and steep.
Now the grass and the blossoms are browning
the graves where our heroes sleep,
And the years with purpose are pregnant,
though our swords are red with rust,
And right in the world is regnant, and wrong
lies prone in the dust.
Thomas S. Collier.
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31
Remembrances of Roses.

When slowly falls the curtain of the night
And none is here except the silent dead;
When pales the western sky in dying light
And ashen grayness comes in crimsons
stead,
Then will we know each buried hero tranquil
ly reposes
Midst memories of music and remembrances
of roses.
e. NJ Taber.
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31
A Sentiment by Garfield.

IF silence be ever golden, it must be
here beside the graves of these Is, 900
soldiers, whose lives were more signifi-
cant than speech and whose death was
poem the music of which was never
sung. Speech at Arlington.
The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1895-05-31
GID--n

o my country, my country Heart of my
heart and life of my lifel o ye dead who
died in our defense, whose eagle eye grew dim
in the smoke Of battle, and whose brave hearts
stopped beating at the lannon's mouth The
sons and daughters of America will not forget
theei You, my comrades, have two immortal
tiles. One you will take with you beyond the
stars. The other will live forever in the deeds
you have done, in the glorious flag and gov
eminent you have done so much to honor and
preserved Rev. 81. Stone Richardson.