The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1899-04-14

for charge. The men are pale faced
| and gritting their teeth 1.-The horses
lifting their feet and working their
ears nervously. There is the bugle!
Walk, trot, gallop, charge! They
sweep up the hill in a solid mass,
every trooper cheering-every sabre
glinting and glistening in the sunlight
Beyond the crest of the hill, down
across the meadow, over the cotton
field. and then they strike the foe
1t is a crash as if thousand feet of
stone wall haa been toppled down
There are cheers, shouts, shots anu
the clash of steel.
The back horse and his rider were
in the front rank. With the bit in
his teeth aud his ears laid back the
black horse dashed at the foe, and
with sabre whirlipg about his head
the rider cheered and exulted. The
Thousand break through and scatter
the foe, but when they draw off there
are only seven hundred to ride away.
Down there on two acres of field the
dead and wounded almost touch each
other. and as the sun goes down and
night comes on the groans and walls
OF the wounded are a sound to make
one shiver. An hour goes by-two-
three hours. Then one of the wounded
men-one who has been lying as If
dead-struggles up and braces his
back against a dead man. He pants
and groans with the exertion, and
presently he purses up his dry lips
and sends forth signal call. 1t g
shrill, quavering whistle, and many
another wounded man listens and
then the signal is answered. From
where he is lying, forty rods away,
slowly bleeding to death from a gap
ing wound, the black horse gathers
his feet under him and utters a shrill
neigh, Again the whistle, and now
the stricken animal picks his way
among the dead and wounded, NOV
ing at snail's pace and groaning as he
moves, and by and by he halts and
sinks down III his tracks and thrusts
the muzzle against the breast of the
man who called him.
It's you, Harryn whispers the man
as he puts out his hand. Il knew you
were hit, but hoped you had not left
me. Got your death, eh? Well, same
here. But wasn't it a glorious charge
though? How we slashed right and
had to die, Harry-men and horses.
weeping and grieving, but they'll be
proud to know we died with our faces
to the foe.'
Dear old Harryr said the trooper,
as he stroked the soft muZzle with his
stiffening fingers. Yes, men and
horses had to die, and why not we, as
oil ntt hi h,,& hox
you were under me as we swept up the
hill! 1t was your first battle--your
first and your last-but you had a
heart of oak, and we struck the enemy
first of all our regiment. How strange
and queer you came down to Inc!
Poor old father! Poor cid mother.
to part with youl Are We here, Harry?
Are you talking to me? Poor old
chap! That was a terrible volley
a soldier to die. Dead are you, Harry,
dead with your head on my kneesF
Again the woman sat on the kitchen
door-steps, with her hands under her
apron. She leaned her head on the
door casing, and her eyes were fixed
on a man coming across the barn-yard.
He had been to town and he had a
letter in his hand. He did not wave
it and shout. He looked this Way
and that-anyway but toward the
woman. She grew white as death as
he came nearer, but she neither moved
nor spoke. AZ last he sat down beside
her with a groan. He still held the
letter in his hand, and she saw it had
been opened. She heard him breath
ing like one who strangles in his
sleep, and he could hear the furious
beating of her heart. By and by he
huskily said.
It's from one of the Reynolds boys.
God help US, motherp
Our Sam is deadn she whispered,
between her white lips.
Yves, mother! But Harry found
him before he died, just as l told you
he might
And they died togetherr
Died together. mother, died together!
he ans wered, as he reached out and
took one of her hands and sobbed In
his throat.