Free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1888-1908, 1902-05-31

flies and drums fioated to his ears with
strangely familiar sound. It took
him back to the front again, back to
the days of '63! Once more he was a
youth-strong, vigorous, in arms!
And could this, then, be Thomas bril-
gade?-and yonder-yonder hill-Mis-
sionary Ridge where, proudly drawn
in battle array, the Confederate
legions awaited them calmly with a
welcome of leaden death?
And whence all this rub-a-dub-dub.
rub-a-dub-dub, that fired the very
blood within the veins? All Foolish
question! Why ask when there was
Soffels, the drummer boy? Nobody
but Soffels could drum like that. Sof-
fels was the only one who could make
his drum talk in accents So clear
and true-now gay. gay as the morn
ing sunlight; now sad-sad as the
hour of death, as he turned the tide OF
battle into victory or defeat!
Take the rife-pits at the base, then
halt and reform!" Weak-Eyed Jones
heard the order as clear as on the
day it fired the souls of thousands OF
Union soldiers to battle and to vic
tory. The march of many feet was
heard; the CLINT of polished bayonets
seen. The stars and stripes stood
straight to the breeze as like clock
work that human phalanx moved to
obey.
Was that the foe there, entrenched
at the base of the hill, calmly waiting
with muskets primed and ready? But
never man did he see falter. On
ward they pressed, with music soaring
and flags flying, into the fray and into
the face of death. Then, when the
first volley had been met and passed,
they were over the breastworks and
upon the foe. He felt an absence about
him then. He looked for Billy. Billy
was gone! A bullet had carried him
down at the first onslaught, he con-
cluded. Then he saw the men in the
trenches waver for moment, club
their muskets for a last feeble stand.
That was all; then they fed. The Fed
eral troops, forgetting their orders in
the enthusiasm of the moment, were
as quickly over the ramparts and
after them-through woods, over logs,
past gulches, and into the face of
murderous musketry from above!
Presently Weak-Eyed reeled and
fell from the marching column, strik-
ing his head as he fell. Grasping
shade tree by the side of the thor
oughfare he slowly raised himself to
his knees. Had he, too, been struck
by a flying bullet? He put his hand
to his head. Yes, there was blood!
and the bridge of his nose was gone!
But he forgot the pain momentarily
as he heard the order: charge the
crest Of the hill" pass from mouth to
mouth as it came from Grant. His
pulses leapt. His blood fairly bounded
at the words. He tried to rise and
obey, but he could neither see nor
walk.
"Hurrah fer th'-stars an'-Stripesi
he shouted in the exultation Of the
moment, but the effort cost him throbs
of pain.
A vehicle full of belated celebra
tionists, hurrying after the procession.
heard his shout. ga drunken soldier
they said. Weak-Eyed thought an
ammunition wagon was hurrying to
the front.
His sight cleared little after the
first daze from his fall. In the dis
lance he saw clouds of dust arising.
''The smoke of the BATTLE" he thought.
The music was still playing, clearer
and louder than ever, indicating the
enthusiasm of battle. Someone ap-
preached his side.
"OnIy -scrape-comrade!" he said
''Never-mind NELL be-al1 right
soon There's work-fer you-up
there!" He indicated the hill with a
wave of his hand.
81 tell you he's not drunk; he's
sick" The man at his side addressed
some one near at hand.
In pity they tried to raise him to
his feet. His legs would not support