The Portland daily press., 1899-02-22

ward 10, 20 PAGES, but no more. Lake
mockcry Of human hope the flag huttered
helplessly TO the ground willing hands
grabbed at the spiintcred staff. but death
was quicker than mortal energy, and men
went down as rapidly as the attempts were
made. Tho foe was suffering even moro,
but his numbers were greater in that por-
tion of the field
Colonel Miller leaped TO the front with
drawn sword, and. the fierce struggle for
the old flag was hand TO hand, eye TO eye,
heart 10 heart. Around the brave officer
surgcd the Confederates, flushed by the as
surance which temporary superiority OF
numbers gives The colonel was pressed
backward, bravely though the color guard
fought. A Confederate captain sprang
forward, aiming revolver at Colonel
Miller's heart. With a shudder the men
fighting about him saw the oct and tho
falling Of the pistols hammer.
But quicker than the captain we're an
other hand and eyo. Colonel Miller turned
suddenly, his face burned by the powder
from the shot, and beheld the STRIPPING
drummer, who, disobcying orders, had fol-
lowed the very center of the regiment into
the fight Again he turned and beheld
the Confederate captain wildly endeavor-
4ttfs ~ Atct AAOAh Wv eiCt NhNAo io AAua
sallcn.
This shot not only saved the colonel's
life but 1t created an important diversion.
The enemy fought rs bravely, but not as
enthusiastically, for a daring leader had
fallen Suddenly the tattcred flag seemed
to spring from the ground and rush right
into the Confederate line Wild was the
cheering as the boys followed IL, the on
alatsuEf l.tn via hat Tho
gayo back. wavered, retreated, after firing
ono last volley at the colors.
The old flag seemed TO reel and flutter in
death agony, settling down like stricken
bird, until it lay silent, rent by shot and
bathed in blood upon the field of glory.
"who bore that fiag9" screamed Colonel
Miller WHO'S the color bcarerf"
None answered him.
"What ails you, menP Are you all
dumb? Who's tho last color bearerf II
he don't get captains commission, III
resign. Who is he?
He has his promotion, colonel" " an
swered Sergeant Black, whose powder
smoked checks already showed suspicious
traces and cutters. His commissions
come"
Reverently Colonel Miller approached
and lifted the tangled folds of the flag
There was no installing the frcckled face
and red hair OF tho little man laying
there, though death--such death-had
traced there smile OF confidence and con-
tentment that shamed human conceit
Attached to the belt was the revolver al
ways carried by the little drummer. Not
u cartridge in the cylinder, not one in the
belt. Every shot had gone straight at the
foe and the last had saved his colonel's
life. They left the flag abous him, just as
1t had fallen, simply detaohing the staff.
They buried him upon the field. They
wrote his epitaph in history simply:
tom Wilson, Drummer Boy, the Hero
of Stone River"
The town OF Charville turned out In
solid mass TO do honor to its dead. There
were flowers and speeches and tears
There were recitals and descriptions OF
noble deeds and great sacrifices. At the
dictntion of the mayor the entire populace
marched to the home of Peg Wilson, where
the rough spoken woman, more irritable
than ever sat beside an old flour barrel
alone with her grief.
Beautiful girls adorned her home with
flowers, brave men eulogized the bravery
of tom Wilson, the hero" 1t was like
an enchanted dream to poor Peg, and
from that day she never lacked warm and
thoroughly sympathetic friends.
After the visitors had gone poor Peg
gazed long and sadly upon the old flour
barrel where "Tom the Brat" had learn
ed to drum. Sadly she turned away to
take up the duties of n life relieved from
the annoyance of the brat" but some
how it did not suit.
II wished-no, / said I w.shed-that
ho'd go TO war an never come back, sob
bed Peg. but why did God hear An an
swer il when he knowed l didn't mean itY
'Tain't tn drummer boy hero / want;
'tain't tn boy t saved th colonsls life.
l want my Tom-my 'bratr "-Oleveland
Plain Dealer