The Monitor-register., 1896-07-03
THE SECOND LIEUTENANT'S
FLAG.
BY EDITH BAKER BROWN.

boundary, and to Jim It's special advant-
age was the short cut it offered between
his " house and Hillborn Avenue.
Indeed, SO often had he crossed it swing
ing his baseball bat or his hockey club,
that Its square, we'll watered plots, it's
prime paths and clipped bushes, its chill
and decorous rows of headstones he did
not mind at all.
do not suppose that he would ever
nave read Friends headstone if, n day
in the autumn, a ball had not slipped and
rolled over on the sword under the fallen
leaves. The stone stopped its course,
and Jim, stopping to feel for it, caught
sight of the inscription
To the Memory of
Richard Friend,
End Lieutenant of the -th Mass. regiment,
Who was killed at the battle of Balls Cliff,
Oct. 2lst., 1861,
Act. 10 yrs, 8 mos, 6 days.
1t is a brave and beautiful thing to
die for ones country.
Jim was at that age when the sword
and the musket were his only evidences
of the heroic, unless, indeed, it were
victory on the field of baseball; but these
evidences he saluted reverently. He had
read his "Pontiao," and 1.-THE Boys of
'66," and the ''Bluc and Grey" and got
all his heroes and campaigns by heart.
Old Put. and Sherman he adored, and he
had a speechless sentiment for Wolfe;
and the swelling of the heart with which
he used to emulate them In imagination
was his token of religion. No wonder
that this sudden meeting with the grave
of Richard Friend quickened his pulse.
He had touched a real hero. "Whewl"
whistled Jim, "but he was the stuffl''
And he fell to wondering about Friend.
How he went to the war, and how he
fought and died. Whether he was dead
before he felt the bullet, or fingered a
little with his friends to support him
while he asked which way the battle was
turned. Like Wolfe," thought Jim,
and hoped that Richard Friend was not
scanted one heroic circumstances In his
death.
After this Jim always passed FIR lends
grave on his way across the cemetery.
Sometimes he would say, casually: "Say,
do You know theirs a Teller buried down
there in Hillborn, who was second lieu
tenant of his regiment and killed when
he vas only nineteen ?"
But he was, in the main, bashful of his
emotion for Friend, nor would be have
admitted that the cemetery, at least
that little path called "Sweet Brier"
where he had dropped his ball. gained
for him some of the significance of holy
ground. True it was, Notwithstanding,
that when Memorial Day oame around
Jim awoke to it with a sentiment quite
new to him on a holiday, and quite dis
tinct from his interest in the baseball
game between Brady's and Hopkins's in
the afternoon.
A suburban cemetery is really gay on
Memorial Day. Then it is brave with
the tramp Of soldiers feet and military
music. The whole city sets hitherward,
and there is every mark of holiday
making along the road, from the horse
@ srs choking with family picnic parties,
to the popcorn boys at the corners of the
streets and the lemonade stands fanking
the cemetery gate.
Jim Joined the crowd and followed it
to the hill where speeches were in order;
but his real interest conferred in the cere-
monies of decoration that we're to follow,
He waited impatiently until the last
spe aker had told the gloriss of the right
eous war, and had forgiven the South
magnanimOusly in the presence of the
martyred dead; then he FASTENED to the
second l~ieutenaDt's grave; for he felt it
only decent that he should be partner to
the solemhity. 1t was some time before
a detachment arrived; but when Jim saw
one pause near the opening of the path
and puzzle over directions, he sung ont
to the Commander: II say. do you want
Lieutenant Friends grave? It's right
down here" The captain approached,
compared the inscription on the stone
with his paper, said "All rightr' and
proceeded with the ceremony of decora.
ton.
Jim stood up and uncovered with the
men 1t was more solemn than any
church, there in the air and the sunshine,
with the bluebirds calling all around, to
hear those simple words:
Orchard Friend, second lieutenant O
the til Mass. regiment, fought in
defense of his country's flag. We here
plant upon his grave the flag that he
loved 80 we'll. And he died for his
country"
Jim felt the tears start. The Com
mander might repeat the words a score
of times that morning over a score of
indifferent graves, but to Jim it was az
it he spoke with a ring of personal pride
and affection. The detachment moved
off and the flag stood waving brightly.
Nowhere is it more solemnly emblematie
than when planted on a soldier-grave
and to Jim those flying colors were some.
thing sacred, more sacred than the Bible.
10 q moment or two when he had pocketed
a few tears with a heart at once ashamed
and exultant, he strolled off after thu
other detachments and watched the cere.
mony at different graves; but he found nc
formula used in the various decorations
so adequate as the one he had heard,
Comrades, let us plant this flag in
accordance with our ancient custom. y
was good enough for ordinary graves,
but he was glad they had not used it over
Friend.
1t was an hour later, and Jim had
strolled beyond the hill in his followings
from grave to grave, where he turned
back. He had just started down the
slope, whistling "Marching through
Georgia." and was In sight of the graves
10 the hollow, when he discovered a deed
that choked him with indignation. There