Great Falls weekly tribune. [volume] (Great Falls, Mont.) 1894-1???, 1895-05-31

meath them. General and Mrs. Grant,
General and Mrs. Sherman, Sir Edward
Thornton, the British minister and con-
suls, and 66 soldiers orphans, each carry
ing a wreath and bouquet, sat together
on the platform.
A national salute Of ~ guns was fred.
A poem was read, called 1.-THE Hymn Of
Peace" written by Oliver Wendell
Holmes.
Captain jackson and Pen arrived in
time to march into the grounds just IS
General Grant was taking his seat. The
bands were playing. The sunshine fell
over the peoples heads and faces like
gold. 1t was a wonderful scene!
There were thick, soft grass, such
beautiful trees and singing birds. Flags
were f1uttering and flowers were borne
about in huge baskets, and there were
armies of people laden with fragrant
blossoms. The white stones everywhere
cleaned in the sun.
As the orphan children marched
round the gray tomb Of the unknown"
piling against the stone their wreaths
and bouquets, and the music played a
sad dirge Pen went up and laid the
pretty wreaths of myrtle and white flow
yrs that his mother had made with the
others. He whispered to Captain Jackson:
eff mother could SEQ this, she wouldn't
cry SO much. Oh, it's glorious to be a
soldiern
open, n,w it's time to give your note
to General Grant, said the captain.
"They are coming down from the plat
form
A blue coated officer handed the let
ter to the general. He opened and read
it, every word. The little, wrinkled,
crumpled bit Of paper seemed to interest
him. He looked down at the small, eager
face and smiled. He went up to him,
leaving the procession a moment, and
took PENS hand in his own and said
warmly, II am glad to see you, my lad.
Tell your mother General Grant re-
members her today and all she has
DONE
The little fellow in the mended jacket
looked so very manly, and as the gen.
eral passed Oh toward his carriage no
prince could 10 prouder than this little
Virginia lad over General Grants mes.
sage to his mother.
The flowers were heaped about the
white stones. The bands marched out
side the big gates. The pretty children
planted little flags beside each grave,
and as the sun went down over the beau
tiful trees the tramping grew far off,
and the people said to one another,
"How perfect it all has been!'
An old soldier at the gate proved to
be a former neighbor of Captain Jack
son, and in talking he inquired, "Who
did you say this little chap was, zap.
tain?'
"Pen Hunter. His father, John Pen
dleton Hunter, was killed in the battle
of the Wilderness, or died afterward.
We never got the particulars straight,
but they do say their bones lie there
Johns and his eldest boys, SANS"
Hunter? Hunter fun You
and the boy jump into our ambulance
and go down to camp to supper. You
are tired and the boy looks fit to drop
with excitement"
Over the cobblestones to the avenue
there was no other kind of street then
in Washington-they jolted down to the
barracks. After a good supper they sat
on the bench beside the open tent telling
war stories until Pen fell asleep with
his head on the old captains shoulder.
"Hello, comrades!" shouted a soldier
as he threw himself from his saddle and
joined tho group by the door.
"Hello!' was the answering greet
ing. I'm for all night?'
II hope S c. Been on duty since 6 a.
m."
The noise awakened Pen, who sat up
and looked at the newcomer. "John,'
said the old soldier, "here's u little fell
Ter from down by tho James river some
where. Maybe he can tell you about
your old neighbors."
"No danger of that" gloomily re-
piled the newcomer. "All swept out of
the country. I've had to give up looking
for my people-given up" He leaned
his head on his hands and groaned.
Just what did you say his namo
was?" the soldier asked of Captain Jack
son.
open, tell him your whole name"
said Captain Jackson to the boy.
"Pendleton John Hunter, " said Pen
promptly.
The newcomer sprang to his feet. He
lifted the boy off the bench and fiercely
asked, staring into his face, "And what
was your fathers name?"
John Pendleton Hunter. Pen comes
first in my name"
Slowly the soldier went on, with a
gasp and a catch in his breath, "Ald
what Vas your mothers name?"
"Mary Hunter"
The big, tall fellow, in his army blue
overcoat, leaned a little forward as if he
might fall. He caught Pen up in his
arms and said: "Oh, my boy! 1t is my
own little boy, Penv'
The other two men wiped their eyes
on their coatsleeves and turned away
their faces. From his trembling voice
and the tears that fell on PENS curly