Omaha daily bee., 1903-05-30

ANN bNdAH ta AA AAC oAAN1 OAAA0T
times It was night and sometimes It was
day, but always n subtly touched and mar
velously touching domestic word etching,
for Tom was more than half a wizard when
he chose to be.
He managed to %conjure into our hearts
the tail, tender, dignihed, devout Invalid,
his mother, and his handsome stripping
brother, the prince of the household and
the king OF the quarters, with cotton-wooled
old Washington for his. prime minister.
and all the pickaninnies on the place for his
grinning, screening escort.
Then there was Toms father with his
books and his cares. his horses and his
cotton, his cattle and his clover, and above
all his answering loyalty-and alas! the
blank that had separated them for years,
Then Tom scintillated from grave to gay,
and with Brown to egg him on sailed into
the choppy sea OF their college %pranks-
empurpling the boys eyes and reddeniDg
the girls cheeks and tinting the sleepy
old town with the -vermilion hues that
materiallze midway between sunset and
sunrise.
The fire went out and the moon climbed
high above the trees and TOMS talk flowed
on like a certain brook and nobody thought
OF his blankets until Tom went on in the
shadows, shouting back his laughter and
laughter-provoking squibs until the wind
among the trees and the devil among the
horses swallowed him up.
on the day we heard Of Toms fate Brown
was the most stricken man lever saw. 1t
was Bugler Smith brought the news when
the column returned from the watering.
II must have been close to 9 o'clock, for
I had Just completed the figures OF the
morning report and turned to hand 1t to
the captain for his signature. The bugler
came up to our circle sitting on the logs
and saluted Lieutenant Brown.
.sTom Dupont is dead, sir, since yesterday
morning"
We were all shocked to hear It, but
Brown was as white as a sheet.
'DThey don't know in his own regiment,
sir. what it all means. They say he had
been out with the pickets since daylight
and not coming back with the others they
believed he was killed or captured. About
10 o'clock, sir, just when the Sixtieth was
vavering in the face of a whitening fire,
Tom Dupont dashed up from the rear with
the look Of a mailman. He spoke no word
to any one and needed no word that was
spoken to him, but snatching the colors
from the sergeant without an lnstants
delay he rushed upon the enemy waving
the stars and Stripes above his head. Be-
IOTe ne ndu 6OhS a
pierced by a score Of bullets"
Poor Toni He had not died in vain or
alone. for the regiment had rallied and
carried the hill with a mighty cheer plant
ing the flag Tom had thrown back as ne
fell on the enemy's works and holding 1t
there in the smoke until achievements
came to its relief.
Brown, who had been leaning against the
mess wagon for support since the depart
ure of Bugler Smith, spoke first: Some
terrible news from his family is at the
bottom of this. You know, gentlemen, that
for three days Dupont has, been almost
within sight of his home, yet unable TO
reach or communicate with his family,
from whom 1 know that before our arrival
here he had not heard a word since the
national mail service was withdrawn from
the south" ? sulh
The statement which follows. affording a
terrible explanation of the motives which
led to the sacrifice of the young hero's hfe'
embodies all the facts which came to our
knowledge the day following the tidings OF
his dramatic death. II the simple facts
are embellished by some passages OF sup
posititious sentiment which may or ma not
have passed through the mind Of a man
who sought death with sealed lips, 1t is
because i choose to close the sad story
with the exact words written in the tents
of Battery "a" while the double tragedy
was fresh in my mind. 1 will only add
that the paper was written In june h0S'
at the reserve camp, outside the trenches
at Vicksburg.
:
When the army crossed the Mississippi
at Bruensburg prior to the dashing cam
l paign preceding the investment of this
3 Mace. Tom Dupont marched with his regi-
; ment through Port Gibson and across both
branches of Bayou Pierre, passing almost
/, within sight of his home. AS he neared
l the crossing of the South Fork every field
) and almost every tree and rock recalled
l some event OF his boyhood. Here was a
t road along which he had often ridden
3 with his father. on a certain grassy slope
= his eyes sought the rabbit traps OF old
Wash and he felt himself a prisoner as
. he had never felt before.
Q He remembered his mother alighting
from her carriage by yonder girdled tree,
{ In the early morning, and how he, small,
: happy Tom, ran to and fro in the wet
grass to pluck the sprays of swamp sassa-
fras. He saw her again as she smilingly
took the flowers from his hand and drew
the stems through the belt at her slender
3 waist-saw her in her white dress-saW
her brown hair and dark handsome face
With a child's tenacity OF memory he re-
. called the scarlet geraniums that adorned
r hsr straw hat and nodded in the yellow
y light that fell on both Of them through
the great sun umbrella as they bowle6
s along over the soft road.
e With other eyes he saw the steady swing
e of the forest Of rife barrels before hin
Y through a mist not born of the swamps and
q the bitter choking at his throat was not thu
8 choking Of the dust. Ten thousand furieI
| overtake the cause that has substituted s,
" much that is bitter for so much that wa
q sweet. The regiment is not marching fas
t enough. The mounted orderly trotting pas
a with official envelopes in his belt and tn,
t yizor OF his cap turned saucily up does no
d throw dust enough, although he is a NOV
d ing silhouette Of gray in a cloud of his owl
raising.
Il That night Toms company is on picket
y From tho shelter of a spreading tree h
g looks out on the silent stretch Of pastur
l. and woodland. the outlines Of the trees los
in the yellow fog, and at long interval
comes to his listening ear the dull report o
a musket. It is nearly day when he is re
lieved and creeps back with a strangel
le heavy heart to the reserves.