The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1904-05-29


and the curious came to condole with
Uncle Luther and to examine the re-
mains of the fifty-dollar leg, and to
point where the fire had charred the
chair. They went about solemnly, as
at a funeral, glahcing sideways from
the corners of their eyes and yet
not missing anything.
Among the very first to call was
Captain Enoch Bradley, who was a
hearty. warm blooded, irascible old
fellow, anu his bluff sympathy went
far toward solacing Uncle Luther in
his affliction.
"Twant so bad as if you hadn't
lost it before" he comforted.
But Uncle Luther had no mind for
treating his loss frivolously. The
years had crushed all of the humol
out of him, and left him only tragedy.
Il was thinkin',' he said, that now
[ can't march p'raps Amery-might
let Tommy have it"
Captain Enoch frowned darkly, but
Uncle Luther hurried on:
Hes more cOmmandn' than / be
er ever was, er ever will be, an he's
had practice"
"Oh, you'll be ready to march by
Decoration Day." interruption Captain
| IGnoch
It's good of you to say So" said
Uncle Luther, but y jus can't do it.
Iommy's the man." and then he added
Wistfully, Il wish L could see Tom
N.Y."
But. Uncle Tommy did not come.
! Uncle Luther heard, however, that
Uncle Tommy had been appointed
marshal Of the parade, and he was
glad of it. For himself, he was busted
after the first day or two with a stout
! piece of ash, which he slowly Whitfield
down with draw shave to the pro-
| portions of a wooden leg 1t would
not do as we'll as a regular artificial
leg, such as the one he had been wear
| ing, but he hoped that it would serve
! him for the Memorial Day exercises
he still cherished a desire to march
| with the parade, although he knew
/ that jonathan would not approve of
/ it. He was afraid of Jonathan. But
whole days slipped by when he was
not strong enough to work, and yet he
! chung to the task with feverish eager
ness. The man Within him protest
I ed that he was still good for some
| thing, that old age had not robbed him
| of everything.
On the morning of Memorial Day
| the whiting was all finished, but there
| remained the task of attaching the
! straps, and Uncle Luther knew that he
| could not hope to complete the leg in
| time for the exercises. So he laid it
! away and toward noon he dressed up
| in his best blue clothes and put on
| his wide brimmed black hat with the
| gold cord around the crown. Then
| he hobbled out of the door and
| dropped down on a box by the fence
with his back resting against a post.
! 1t was a fresh, clear May morning.
| During the night there had been d
| shower, and the grass on the road
! side stood up green and dewey. The
| fields of waving wheat blades spread
| away for miles before him, dotted
| here and there with houses and red
| barns and straight rows of Lombardy
poplars and cottonwoods. Where
| Uncle Luther sat he could look up
| the yellow stretch of roadway, and he
| knew that he could see the parade al
most as soon as it left the town. 1t
| would pass the end of the lane on it's
way to the cemetery, and he hoped,
with the vague optimism of the very
old and the very young, that it would
| come back by the same road. Seeing it
| was next to marching with it.
Uncle Luther put on his long-dist-
ance glasses, and he saw a blur of blue
! moving along the road from the viii
| lage. Above it there was blur of red
and white moment later they re-
| solved themselves into a knot of old
| soldiers. with the flag Tapping above
| them. Uncle Luther took long
breath and his eyes shone. Suddenly
a band began to play the stirring.
music of Marching Through Geor-
gia.'
They've got the band" exclaimed
! Uncle Luther, in a voice that choked
with ecstasy.
Unconsciously ire rose on his one
| good foot and took off his hat His
| eyes dimmed, and as the enlvening
CT,
| another picture formed on his misty
glfsses. He saw the boys in blue-not
a meager handful of gray and stoop-
! ing remnants, but boys with fresh
young faces and broad shoulders and
proud chins. They were muddy to the
knees with marching, they were
ragged and tattered, but they swept
by to the drums and flies, regiment
after regiment and brigade after
brigade; and orderlies clattered up
and down with yellow envelopes stuck
in their belts, and the shells were
| scheeching from the rebel heights
He saw the companies wheel and de-
ploy; he saw them strip down and
form in line at Charge bayonets -
The big, black guns We're leaping the
ruts in the road, with the gunners
clinging desperately to the caissons.
| Then he saw the long line of gray rise
the slope. He saw the ragged, mile
| long dash of the carbines-and he
would have leaped forward to the
charge, if for a single moment he
had heard the bugle's shril summons.
Uncle Luther's spectacles were dim
med. He polished them off with
shaky fingers and looked again. Be
hind the band there was stretch of
white that seemed to nod and twinkle
in the sunshine.
They've got the children, too" he
faltered.
Then the old fellows in blue swung
at the corner they were keeping mill
tary line, and something of the old
spirit had thrilled their steps into an
unwonted precision. The band, Wheel
ing with them, swept into rally
Round the Flag, Boys" Uncle Luther
leaped forward on his one good leg.
waved his hat around his head. and
shouted, "Hurrah, hurrahn' His head
was thrown back, his eyes flashed. his
breath came quick and hot
| Down with the traitor, UP with tha
star" he chanted in his thin, quavery
old voice.
Now they had reached the end of
IND T1ao1 10 NJ,