The Mobridge news. [volume] (Mobridge, Walworth Co., S.D.) 190?-1917, 1913-09-05
CHAPT Err |.
The Battery Passes.


might; the verdure OF tree and lawn
the climbing roses, already far ad
vanced IN that southern latitude
Bweetly Bilvered ip the moonlight
Within tie great old house apparently
an equal calm.
Yet, neither within nor without was
the night absolutely soundless. Fal
away to the southward the cloudless
horizon, easily visible from the slight
eminence on which the house stood
was marked by qulvering flashes oi
iurid light From time to time, the
attentive ear might catch the roll. the
roar, the Teverberation Of heavy sound
like distant thunder-peals intermin
gled with sharper detonations. The
fiashes came from great guns, and the
rolling peals were the sound of the
cannon, the detonations explosions OF
the shells. There was the peace OF
God In the heaven above; there were
the passions Of men on the earth be
meath.
Lights cleaned here and there, shin
ing through the twining rose foliage
from the windows of the old house
which stood far back from the street
From room on one side of the hall
which opened from the broad pill3red
portico OF Colonial fashion, a hum OF
voices arose.
A group of women, with nervous
hands and anxious faces, working
while they talked. were picking lint,
tearing linen and cotton for bandsges
Their conversation was not the idle
chatter of other days They told sad
stories of the death of kings!" How
TON" and Charles" and ALLEN" and
Page" and Burton" had gone down
into the Valley of the Shadow OF
Death, whence they had not come
back. How this fort had been ham
mered yesterday, the other. the day
before. How So-and-So's wounds had
been ministered to. How Such-a Ones
needs had been relieved How the
enemy were drawing closer and clos
er, and how they were being held back
with courage. which, alas! by that
time was the courage OF despair. And
much OF their speech was of their
own kind. of bereft women and father
less children. And ever as they talked,
the busy fingers few.
Upstairs from one OF the front
rooms the light shone dmly through
6 window partly covered by half
drawn Venetian blind. Ore standing
at the side of the house and listening
would have heard out OF the chamber
Aow meanings, muttered words from
tfeverish lips and delrious brain. The
vgeaningless yet awful babble was
broken now and again by words OF
tenderness and anguish. Soft hands
were laid on the burning brow Of the
poor sufferer within, while a mothers
eyes dropped tears upon bloodstained
bsndages and wasted frame.
And now the gentle wind which
swept softly through the trees bore
a sudden sharper, stranger sound
toward the old house In the garden.
The tramp of horse. the creak Of
wheels, the faint jingling OF arms and
rsabers drew nearer and rose louder
Sudden words OF command punctured
the night. Here came battery, with.
out the rattle of drum or the bare
OF bugles. with no sound but its own
galloping 1t rolled down the street
Lean. gaunt horses were ridden and
driven by leaner and gaunter men in
dusty. worn, ragged, tattered uniforms.
Only The highly polished brass guns
twelve-pounder Napoleons-gleamed
bright in the moonlight.
The sewing women came out on the
porch and the blind of the window
above was lifted and a white.haired
woman stood framed in the light.
No, those watchers did not cheer as
the battery swept by on It's way to
the front For one thing, soldier
lay upstairs dying; for another, they
had passed the time when they
cheered that tattered flag. Now they
wept over 1t as one weeps as he be-
holds for the last time the face OF a
friend who dies. Once they had &C
rclaimed 1t as the sunrise in the morn
ing, now they watched II silently &c
inevitably to the sunset of defeat.
The men did not cheer either. They
were not past cheering-oh, no! They
were made OF rcugher stuff than the
women. and the time would come
when, In final action, they would burst
ifortk into that strange. wild yell thai
struck terror to the hearts of the
hearers. They could cheer even II
the last ditch. even tnr the jaws Of