The National tribune., 1901-10-31

The great, round moon looked down
With n soft. yellow light upon long, lrreg-
ulhr lines of Notifications with deep, black
bitches behind; white tents and smolder-
ing campires over which the shadows OF
tail trees fell.
There was scarce a sound save an oc-
cssional quick rustic of leaves, as a
startled night bird flew from her place,
or the soft sigh of the ftful breeze among
the pines.
There was nothing in the quiet scene
to tell that beneath these white tents slept
men who tomorrow, perchnnce, might go
to mortal combat, an danother night sleep
their last sleep in the long, shalloW
trenches, hastily scooped out by surviving
comrades.
Near the door of his tent one solitary
figure sat, with bowed head and hands
clasped about his knees, seemingly as I'M
movable as the inanimate objects about
him.
If we call the men with furrowed
cheeks and heads that were fast losing
the black or brown, that slumbered that
night on Southern fields, boys, We might
apply it to this slender youth who sat SO
oblivious to all about him.
1t was a fitting night to think of home
and mother. The dear, old home, the
grassy front yard, with a single mound
encircled by whitewashed stones, in which
grew yellow marigolds and pink touch
me-nots, the lilac bush, the apple trees,
the narrow lane that led up from the pas
ture, where he used to drive the cows;
the old spotted COW that always fingered
behind for one more mouthful of grass;
Margie's playhouse in the fence corner.
How real it all seemed tonight! He won
dered if his mother was lying awake
watching this same moonlight, and think
ing of him. He could see it stream across
the little bedroom, lighting up the rag car
pet and the high, old-fashioned bureau
with cloth cover and homemade knit lace
border.
How far away it all seemed-away up
North in Indiana; would he ever see it
againi
There was no need to suppress or wipe
away the falling tear, for there was no
prying comrade to either jeer or pity.
But, harki From away down the val
ley, at the farthest end of the camp, comes
q sound-perhaps another homesick boy,
to comfort himself, had lightly sung out
the magic words only TO awaken those
nearest him, and they in turn had taken
up the refrain, passing il alOng-some
only waking enough to half unconsciOusly
sing one line and sleep again ere it had
passed. But it gained in volume until a
hundred voices rang out upon the midnight
air.
The boy sprang to his feet. swung out
his arms and in a strained, unnatural
voice joined the mighty chorus
well rally round the flag, boys,
Wen rally once again,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom.'
Then he dropped his arms, crept inside
bis tent, and with great sob sank upon
his bed of pine boughs like a grieved child
upon its mothers breast.
The following morning Lieut.. easy,
knowing much more than he pretended,
put his head inside the door, with Hello,
Linden. Get up; l have something for
you"
He entered the tent as he talked, with
NO more invitation than the look of well
come in young Linden's eyes, and seated
himself on the ground by his side.
you know that box we got yesterday,
Joe, that those New York State girls
sent? Well, this is what l drew" and
he took from his pocket an. ingenius little
article made to hold pins, needles, etc,