St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1895-05-31

OCuSl al anu MIS' olhht, ONhSipi anu
Mrs. Sherman, Sir Edward Thorn
ton, the British minister and consuls,
and &c soldiers orphans, each carry
ing wreath and bouquet, sat to-
getber on the platform.
A national salute of 27 guns was
fired. A poem was read, called "The
Hymn OF Peace" written by Oliver
Wendell Holmes.
Captain Jackson and Pen arrived
in time to march into the grounds
just as General Grant was taking his
seat. The bands were playing. The
sunshine fell over the peoples heads
and faces like gold. 1t was won
deriul scene
There were thick, soft grass, such
beautiful trees and singing birds.
Flags were huttering 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 "un-
known" piling against the stone
their wreaths and bouquets, and the
music played sad dirge, Pen went
up and laid the pretty wreaths Of
myrtle and white flowers that his
mother had made with the others.
He whispered to Captain Jackson:
"If mother could see this, she
wouldn't cry so much. Oh, it's glori-
Gus to be soldierl'
Pen, now it's time to give your
note to General Grant" said the cap
tain. They are coming down from
the platform.
A blue coated officer handed the
letter 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
remembers her today and all she has
done"
The little fellow in the mended
jacket looked so very manly, and as
the general passed on toward his
carriage no prince could be prouder
than this little Virginia lad over Gen.
eral Grants message to his mother.
The flowers were heaped about the
white stones. The bands marched
outside the big gates. The pretty
children planted little flags beside
each grave, and as the sun went
down over the beautiful 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 former neighbor of Captain
Jackson, and in talking he inquired
who did you say this little chap
was, captain Z"
pen Hunter. His father, Johr
Pendleton Hunter, was killed in the
battle of the Wilderness, or dice
afterward. We never got the partic
ulars straight, but they do say theil
bones lie there-John's and his eldes
boys, Sans"
Hunter? Hun-ter-Hun- YOU
and the boy jump into our ambu
lance and 60 Gown to camp to sup
per. You are tired and the boy look
fit to drop with excitement"
Over the cobblestones to thu
avenue-there was no other kind o
street then in Washington-the,
iolted down to the barracks. Ate
a good supper they sat on the bencl
beside the open tent telling wa
stories until Pen fell asleep with hi
head on the old captains shoulder.
Hello, comrades!" shouted sol
der as he threw himself from hi
saddle and joined the group by tn
door.
"Hello!' was the answering greet
ing. In for all night"
II hope so. Been on. duty since
a. M
The noise awakened Pen, who sa
up and looked at the newcomer
"John," said the old soldier, here
a little fellow from down by tn
lanes river somewhere. Maybe b
can tell you about your old neigh
bors."
mo danger of that" gloomily re
piled the newcomer. "All swept GU
OF the country. I've had to give VI
looking tor my people. Given up.
He leaned his head on his hands ant
groaned.
lust what did you say his nam
was ?" the soldier asked OF Captain
Jackson.
Pen, tell him your whole name,
said Captain Jackson to the boy.
"Pendleton John Hunter" SAT-
Pen promptly.
The newcomer sprang to his feet
He lifted the boy off the bench an
fercely asked, staring into his ace
"And what was your father
name ?"
r "Tohn Pendleton Hunter. Pc
comes first in my name
Slowly the soldier went on, with
gasp and a catch in his breath, "An
what was your mothers NAM
MARY Hunter