It was a warm night, late in May. For two long hours the battalion steadily had kept at it—ploying into column, deploying again into line, and varying things by an occasional march, in company front, around the great hall. But there comes an end to all things, even to a two hours' tramp over an unyielding floor, and at last the bugler, standing beneath the crowded spectators' gallery, puckered his lips, puffed out his cheeks, and blew the welcome bars of "Recall"—the signal that it was ten o'clock and time to wind up the evening's drill. One by one the companies filed out through the broad doorway, and as the last man passed over the threshold—even while the closing notes of the bugle-call still faintly rang among the arching trusses of the vaulted roof—the waiting armorer pressed down the lever which, at a single touch, extinguished thelights in the double row of chandeliers, and left the drill-hall to silence and darkness.
But if all was dark and still in the hall below, upstairs the state of affairs was in lively contrast, for in the company quarters there was light in plenty and the hum of many voices, while presently a yell of laughter from "K's" rooms, followed by a responsive roar from "A's" corner, across the corridor, seemed to show that the manœuvres of the evening had not brought the men to the point of complete exhaustion.
About the adjutant's desk, in the staff-room, a knot of officers had gathered to talk over the night's work, and speculate upon the weather of the morrow, for it was the night before Memorial Day, and the four companies detailed for escort duty in the coming parade had been going through a battalion drill, "To get shaken into shape for exhibition purposes," as the major put it.
"The boys measured off a good step to-night: thirty elegant inches, within an eighth," said the adjutant, footing up the last column of the drill report, and then gracing it with his undecipherable signature. "Yes, they stretched it out in gorgeous style,and the last time they came 'round the hall the company wheels were just as pretty as any you ever saw on a little, red wagon." This was in the days when Upton yet was law in the land; before the "new regulations" had come to vex the souls of company commanders.
"That's all well enough," remarked the major who was to command the battalion next day; "but, after all, we're at the mercy of whatever band we catch. It was a mistake to let ours go out of town for to-morrow."
"Itwasso," assented the adjutant, shoving a handful of documents into the pigeon-hole labelled "Papers awaiting action," and then, rising from his desk, "Do you know what band's been assigned?"
"Haven't heard," replied the major, with a yawn. "Iwouldn't ask for any better marching music than the article the drum-corps deals out. The boys swing along like machines, when they have the old tunes to set 'em going;" and he began, to whistle "The British Grenadier," drumming with his fingers an accompaniment to the inspiring, old refrain, but stopping when the sergeant-major entered and said, "The colonel presents hiscompliments, and wishes the field and staff to report to him in his room."
"Come along, fellows," said the major, buttoning up his fatigue jacket. "This means an expedition against The Battery," and with this safe prediction he led the way along the corridor towards the door which bore upon its oaken panel the words "Colonel, Third Infantry."
"Come in," sang out the colonel, as the group of officers reached his door, "come in for a minute. I need your advice. Onlyfourof you? Why, where's 'Pay'?"
The major replied, "He's escaped, sir, but those of us who are left are very much at your service—and full of advice."
"No doubt of it," laughed the colonel; "I've not the slightest doubt of it. That's where the officer of volunteers never is found lacking. I've yet to meet the one who's not prepared to give advice on any matter, and at a minute's notice, too. Well, now for that same advice: do you counsel an immediate and early scattering, or a brief visit to the dominions of Sam? Weigh your words, for I've determined to be guided to-night by the wishes of the majority."
"I haven't attained a 'majority'—as yet, sir," said the adjutant, speaking rapidly and beginning to unbuckle his belt; "but with due deference to my seniors, I would state that the evening has been long, warm, and very arid; enough so to reduce some of us—oneI can swear to—to a state bordering upon collapse. I therefore most respectfully would suggest that The Battery be converted temporarily into a field-hospital, and that Major Sawin, surgeon, Third Infantry, be ordered to proceed thither without delay, to make provision for such patients as later may report to him for treatment."
"Listen to the boy!" said the colonel, as the adjutant paused for lack of breath. "And nobody has any better advice to offer?" he went on. "Well, Bones, you heard? Trot along—you're not in uniform—and start Sam on a bowl of claret-cup. The rest of us will join you in ten minutes."
"I thinkI'lldo the compounding," said the surgeon, mentally recalling a formula of his earlier days, "and if the results aren't satisfactory—why, I'll resign and give Wilder his step;" and he turned towards the door, pausing to remark, "Don't overheatyourselves by hurrying, for I'm going to take my time in getting there."
The ten minutes had stretched well along towards twenty, when an uneven trampling of feet upon The Battery's stairs warned the waiting surgeon that his patients were at hand. He had employed his time to good purpose, however, and in the arrangement of his "field-hospital" there lacked nothing which long experience could suggest.
Before the wide dormer-window—in which every sash had been thrown open to catch whatever of breeze might stray that way—stood a round table, bearing a huge glass pitcher, filled to the brim with crimson claret-cup, and beaded with the dew of its icy contents. Five heavy chairs were ranged near at hand, and to each a glass was allotted, while beside every glass lay a newly filled pipe, ready for the lighting. Save one shaded lamp, all the lights were out, to give full play to the bright moonlight which came slanting in through the casement, tracing curious patterns of light and shadow upon the floor and walls. All looked cool and restful, and the surgeon gave just one more satisfied glance at his preparations beforeturning to receive his wearied brothers-in-arms.
"This way to the operating-table," he called out, as the door was flung open. "The instruments are ready, and the surgeon is waiting. I shall make no diagnosis in individual cases—since it is apparent that your ailment has reached the proportions of an epidemic—but shall treat you collectively."
"Bones, you deserve to be thanked 'in orders,'" said the colonel impressively, after a comprehensive survey of the surroundings. "Sit down, all—and Charley, you man the pitcher."
"I chose a pitcher in preference to a bowl," explained the beaming doctor, waving his hand in the direction of that seductive-looking vessel, "because the effect upon the eye is so much more pleasing. I tell you, the careful practitioner has to watch out for even the most trifling details."
A clatter of chairs followed this remark, succeeded by the musical tinkle of ice, as the adjutant filled the glasses. Then came a moment of refreshing silence; and finally five grateful men set down their emptytumblers with a universal, long-drawn sigh of comfort and supreme content.
"Wilder will not get his stepthistime," said the colonel, holding his glass in readiness for refilling, "for your reputation, Bones, is saved."
"Your appreciation touches me," replied the surgeon, leaning forward to possess himself of a pipe, an example followed by the others. One after another the matches cracked and flamed, until five corn-cobs glowed soothingly in the dim, half-light of the quiet room, sending a pale cloud of fragrant smoke adrift across the moonbeams, to twist and circle in the fitful current of air from the open casement.
"With the brigade band, which you'll have to-morrow," observed the colonel, between puffs, to the major, "you ought to go 'swinging on the old, old gait.'"
"So it's to be the brigade band?" said the major. "Good enough! Just before we left the armory we were discussing our chances on music."
"Well, music is rather important," returned the colonel, "for a good band can put life into the lamest column. I onceeven knew a band to put life into a dead man, too. Fact!"
"Extraordinary!" murmured the major. "I've heard plenty of bands bad enough to strike a man dead, but I never happened to discover one that seemed quite up to the resurrection pitch. Perhaps, Colonel, you'll tell us about it?"
"I'm blessed if I don't," was the colonel's reply to this suggestion, "if for nothing else than punishment for the doubt implied in your tone."
"Thank you, sir," said the major politely, bestowing his lazy length upon the cushions of the window-seat, where he settled himself in all comfort. "It's a good long time since we've had a yarn from you, and I'm pleased to learn that we're in a fair way to get you started."
This judicious remark was not without its effect, for the chief pulled the major's empty chair handily near, gently deposited his feet upon it, and observed, "Well, if I've told you this incident at all, I'm sure it hasn't been within a year, so it will be as good as new." Then he turned his head and called, "Sam, come and put out that lamp," adding,"Moonlight's good enough for story-telling—and somehow lamplight makes a discord on a night like this."
"Got ev'rythin' handy, Cun'l?" inquired Sam, as the flame flickered and went out.
"Yes, everything exceptyou," responded the commanding officer. "Pull up a chair, Sam, and kindle your disreputable old briarwood; for I'm going to yarn about a shindy in which your battery trumped the winning trick, and I shall need your corroborative testimony."
Sam brought a chair, seated himself with proper deliberation, and added his contribution to the ever-thickening cloud of smoke; those whose glasses stood in need of refilling took the precautions necessary to avert a drought; and the colonel, fixing his eyes upon the cloudless sky without, began:
"Back in '64—a matter of a fortnight or so before that little affair at Three Mile Creek, where you, Sam, got scraped across the wrist, and won that medal of yours—the 'Old Regiment' found itself at a most forsaken sort of place which was going to ruin under the name of Ashford Four Corners. Why we had been dumped down inthat particular spot we neither knew nor greatly cared, for we had reached a point in soldierly indifference which enabled us to take our billet unquestioningly, though not always uncomplainingly. Even old Burleigh, our colonel, hadn't a very definite conception of our exact errand, for he told us that we had been ordered to sit down, keep our eyes open, and stay there until we were sent for,—an order which, at the time, seemed easy of execution, though rather purposeless.
"With all due pomp and circumstance we marched into and through Ashford Four Corners, and took up a position about half a mile beyond the straggling collection of tumble-down buildings composing that metropolis; and there we prepared to 'sit down,' asperorders, and 'keep our eyes open' to see that nothing came along over a sandy road running off, in a southeasterly direction, into the dense woods in our front."
"Wal, 'twarnt sich a bad idee, havin' ye thar," observed Sam, between puffs, "an' I guess ye seen th' reason for't, finally."
"Oh, yes, the reason made itself unpleasantly obvious later," assented the colonel;"but along at the first we were rather pleased at being sent off and—as we thought—side-tracked, for we hadn't the slightest expectation of seeing or hearing anything from the enemy. No, we certainly weren't grumbling much over the detail, for we'd had a hot and trying time of it for ten days hand-running, and the prospect of even a few hours of rest and quiet seemed attractive.
"But though we weren't looking for trouble, we'd 'been in the business' too long to take anything for granted, and so we had a turn at pick-and-shovel drill, and threw up a very workmanlike line of breastworks, neatly topped-off with logs; and after the earth had been heaped up and patted down we surveyed the result of our labors, called it good, and waited patiently to see if anybody would blunder along that way to help us in a house-warming.
"In billiards 'position is everything,'" the colonel observed, after a short pause to obtain necessary restoratives, "and the same rule applies in war. Our position, as we lay at ease in our hastily constructed works, was fairly good. If I had the blackboard hereI could show you, in ten strokes of the chalk, just how the land lay; but the blackboard isn't here, and, moreover, I should be too lazy to lift the chalk if itwerehere; and therefore I'll state that our line was established across the tapering end of a fan-shaped clearing, and in such a manner that both flanks were protected by dense woods, while on our left an impenetrable swamp afforded us additional security. The open ground in our front stretched away for a distance of about five hundred yards, ending at the edge of the unbroken forest. Do I make clear the situation?"
"Perfectly, sir," said the adjutant, rattling the ice in the pitcher, by way of serving notice that he stood ready to fill any or all depleted glasses.
"'Twas a good 'nough lay-out for inf'ntry," commented Sam, "but thar warn't quite th' right slope t' git th' best work out o' guns."
"I daresay not," said the colonel, in reply to this bit of criticism, "but your guns were able to accomplish all that we asked, eh? By the way, did youeverget a position that suited your exacting taste?"
"Wal, yis," remarked Sam, after an instant of meditation, "seems like wedidonce—at Malvern Hill. We hed jest th' right drop, thar, an' our plungin' fire cut out work thet warn't far from bein' plain butchery."
"After we'd got settled," resumed the colonel, "we began to look about for amusement; but the 'Four Corners' didn't seem to afford much in that line, and so most of us put in our time at making up lost sleep, and we certainly might have found less profitable employment. Of course we sent out foraging parties, but the few unhappy hens that fell into their hands didn't go far towards making chicken salad for four hundred hungry men, and so we fell back upon our usual healthful diet of hard-tack and 'salt horse.' Lord! what wouldn't I have given for a bottle of cold beer, or a pitcher of this blessed mixture," and the chief, moved by the recollection of past privations, emptied his half-filled glass at a single swallow.
The watchful adjutant promptly made good the deficiency in his superior's tumbler, and then did himself a like kindness; Van Sickles, who quietly had been smoking in a shadowy corner, rose, stretched himself, andflung himself down upon the end of the window-seat opposite the major; and then the colonel—just as the city clocks began to strike eleven—went on, "Up to nightfall there had been no developments, and when we bundled ourselves up in our blankets, after posting pickets, it was with a comfortable feeling that we were in for a quiet night.
"I'd been officer of the guard the night before, and probably I don't need to say how soundly I fell asleep. But when, along towards morning, a shot rang out from somewhere in the darkness beyond, followed by another, and then by two or three in quick succession—why, I came rolling out of my blankets in almighty short order, and it didn't take an alarm-clock to tell me that it was time to be getting up. Well, the long roll sounded, the regiment fell in, and presently in came the pickets to report the enemy in our front.
"By this time the night was pretty well along, and the first hazy light of the new day was beginning to come; but there wasn't quite enough of it to show us what was going on across the clearing, and so we threw outskirmishers into the woods on either flank, and waited for the next number on the programme. For a good half-hour we stood there, behind the breastworks, without being able to detect a movement in our front; and I—believing the whole thing due to an attack of 'nerves'—had begun to try what satisfaction I could get from damning the eyes and ears of the pickets who had spoiled my beauty-sleep, when Bob Sheldon, my captain, touched my arm, and silently pointed out towards the clearing.
"Now, all this time the light had been gathering strength, and though it still was too dim to enable us easily to distinguish objects at any distance, I yet could make out what seemed to be a line of skirmishers, slowly moving up towards us. A second glance told me that my eyes had not deceived me, and I turned towards Sheldon, with, 'My apologies to the pickets. I damned 'em too hastily, for we're to have company at breakfast, surer than gospel.' 'Yes; them's them,' said Bob, 'but not all of 'em. I'd give a pipeful of plug to know what's hidden over there in the woods.' 'Where'd be the fun in that?' I inquired, stooping over to rubmy knee, which had stiffened up a trifle during the night. 'If we knew what was coming, the chances are that we'd leg it; and then what would become of the reputations we've been so long in building up?'
"I straightened up, as I spoke, and again peered over the crest of the breastwork, discovering that the advancing line had halted about two hundred yards from us, evidently without any great ambition to attempt a closer investigation; for at this stage in the war, you must understand, both the Confederates and we had learned to think twice before intruding upon a force well entrenched. These fellows, however, didn't get much time to ponder on the situation, for we gave them a volley which sent them to the rear again, though they retired slowly, and fired as they fell back."
"About as my skirmishers did last October," said the major, half to himself, as he recalled an episode of the regiment's latest engagement.
"Yes; exactly as your men did," said the chief, catching this remark, "with this exception: your boysallwent back, but when this line gave ground it left three poordevils lying motionless in the damp grass. Ah, yes; a 'Fall Drill' would be very like a real fight—if it weren't so different," and he paused to liven up his pipe by a few quick, strong puffs.
"This little exchange of compliments—the way we had in those days, you know, of saying 'How d'ye do?'—was only the curtain-raiser to the real performance," the colonel resumed, after his pipe again had begun to glow and smoke like a toy volcano, "and we hadn't long to wait for the beginning of it. In something less than fifteen minutes after we'd cut loose with that preliminary volley, a regiment came marching out from the woods, changed direction to the right, and formed line of battle; another followed it, and formed on its left; and in the interval between them a battery swung into position and unlimbered. That made the odds two to one, in infantry—and six to nothing in the matter of guns."
"Then ye don't count th' breastworks for nothin'?" queried Sam, who was in a critical mood.
"Well, they ought to be considered," admitted the colonel, with a laugh, "and I'llcall it an even thing on infantry, but the guns we'll have to figure at sixes and zeros; and as an old gunner, Sam, you'll admit that the other fellows held the stronger hand.
"Now, we didn't care much for the infantry part of the show, but the artillery feature promised to be interesting. The sight of those six guns, I make no bones of admitting, worried me considerably; and even old Burleigh himself showed signs of unusual animation when he turned to Frazier, our quartermaster, with, 'Frazier, did you ever see a man ride like hell?' 'Yes, sir, I've seen several men riding that way,' replied the quartermaster. 'Well, then,' blurted out old Burleigh, 'get on your horse, and ride back to the brigade—injustthat way! Give the general my compliments, and tell him I want some guns, and in the biggest kind of hurry, too, if I'm to hold this position. Say that I've got a brigade, at the least, to handle, and nobody knows how much more. I guess I can stand 'em off for an hour, unless they're in force enough to walk right over me, and I'll give you exactly those sixty minutes for getting the guns here. That's all—go! and Frazier startedat a gallop, just as the first shell came screeching across the clearing.
"'Twas all-fired short range for artill'ry work," commented Sam, at this point, "an' I've always allowed thet th' only thing thet saved ye were raw gunners.Mustha' be'n that, for guns half handled would ha' had ye dead an' buried 'fore we got up."
"Yes, the guns seemed frightfully near," assented the chief, slightly shifting his position, to bring his glass within easier reach, "and I think your guess about the gunners must be a good one, for a smartly handled battery ought to have wiped us off the face of the earth in less than half the time that we faced this one. In fact, now that I come to think of it, I remember noticing that most of the shells went over us, and wondering how soon the pieces would be depressed sufficiently to knock our line of works into a cocked hat.
"Well, as I've said, Frazier left for the rear in something of a hurry, and none of us devoted much time to watching his departure, for in front there was more than plenty to take up our attention. Five hundred yards was as long range for the muskets ofthose days as it was close quarters for guns; but we couldn't stand idle and takeallthe pounding, and so we went in for a little firing on our own account.
"For a time things were rather in a mixed-up mess, and I had my hands full in seeing that my boys kept cool—or decently near it—and didn't go to chucking their ammunition away too generously; so you can understand that I had no eye for anything except what went on in my immediate vicinity. But I can remember, as distinctly as if it had occurred but yesterday, how I turned, when a shell burst just over us, and saw poor Bob Sheldon throw up his hands, stagger, and go plunging down, flat upon his face. I was at his side in an instant, but there was nothing to be done, for he lay theredead, with the blood gushing in torrents from a frightful wound which apparently had crushed in his skull. Poor old Bob! I turned him over upon his back, gave just one hurried look at him, and then went back to the company, for—our second lieutenant being then in hospital—I was the only officer left."
The colonel paused long enough to take a sip from his glass, holding it for an instantup before him to catch the effect of the bright moonlight upon the ruddy claret. Then he went on: "Just how long we'd been at it I'm not certain—for it's hard to compute time when every minute is crowded with noise, and smoke, and death; but finally there came a let-up in the firing, and with it an indescribable sort of feeling that something new was about to happen. I was walking up and down behind my company—now and again saying a word to steady the boys—when, from our rear, I heard the music of a military band; and presently, as it drew nearer, I caught the air it was playing. It was our own band—we were one of the few volunteer regiments provided with such a luxury—and old Colonel Burleigh had ordered it to march up to the front, playing for all it was worth, in the hope that the Confederates might be led to believe that we were being reënforced.
"Now, we were a careless and godless set, the most of us, but we were a Massachusetts regiment, New Englanders born and bred, and we all knew the 'psalm tunes' of our boyhood days; so when the band came marching up, thundering out the 'PortugueseHymn'—that grand old psalm beginning,
'How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,'—
'How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,'—
'How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,'—
the effect was instantaneous. The old colonel afterwards told us that he had intended to pass along word for the boys to set up a cheer when the band began to play, but the command never was given; for when our fellows recognized the old, familiar air, they rose as one man, and shouted and yelled, and yelled again, until the woods reëchoed with the cheering.
"The cheering was at its height when an inspiration came to our color-sergeant—a great, bearded fellow, with a voice like a trumpet—and, holding high in air the torn and faded colors, he sprang upon the breastworks, and roared out the second verse of the hymn—
'Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed!I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid;I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.'
'Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed!I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid;I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.'
'Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed!I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid;I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.'
"It was magnificent! One after another the boys joined in the refrain, until four hundredthroats swelled the chorus, and four hundred strong voices sang the old psalm as it never had been sung before. It was one of those moments that make an impression upon the memory which only death can efface, and I never shall forget the electric thrill which ran along our worn-out line as we sung those words of mighty comfort and cheer.
"I had joined in with the rest, and was singing for all that was in me, when I heard at my side a weak voice trying to follow the air, and, looking down, I saw Bob Sheldon—whom I had thought dead—supporting himself on one elbow, and feebly wandering along upon the words of the hymn. It was a ghastly sight, for he was covered with blood from the gaping wound in his head, and so begrimed with the dirt which had clung to it that his own mother never could have recognized him. He was alive, to be sure, but barely alive; and as I knelt beside him he sank back with a pitifully feeble groan, for the effort he had made had exhausted the little strength that was left in him.
"Supporting his head with one arm, I moistened his lips from my canteen, and thenbent over to catch what he was saying; for, though his eyes were closed, he was muttering indistinctly, and I could make out an occasional word or short sentence. 'Nell—little Nell,' I heard him murmur, 'it'shardto go away.' Poor old Bob! I knew in a minute that he was clean out of his head, and that his thoughts had gone wandering back to his old New England town, and to the brown-haired girl who, with brimming eyes and quivering lips, had bidden him Godspeed when the 'Old Regiment' marched away. 'Be patient and—and brave, dear,' he rambled on, in his feeble voice, 'for I'm surely, surely coming—back—to you,'Was he?Gad! something caught me in the throat when I heard the words," and the colonel abruptly paused, and reached for his glass.
Half unconsciously the major slipped his hand inside the breast of his coat, where it rested upon a much-worn leathern case in which lay hidden a photograph; the adjutant blew a succession of feathery smoke-rings across the broad beam of moonlight which came streaming into the room, and—for he was a very young man—fancied that eachring framed a certain sunny face; Van Sickles tranquilly went on with his pipe; and the colonel, clearing his throat by a slight cough, continued:
"Now, all this meant a great deal to me, for I had known from childhood both Sheldon and the girl whom he was to marry. And I can remember how I wondered, as I knelt there, if it would be my duty to tell her how her lover had gone down at his post. I tell you, boys," and his teeth tightened a bit upon the reed stem of his pipe, "war has a terrible fascination—I wouldn't willingly wipe away the memory of the old days in the service—and yet many an experience of mine made me stop to think if, after all, war were worth the while.
"But in this case matters turned out all right in the end," went on the chief, reaching for the jar of tobacco, and extracting a pipeful, which he slowly rubbed in the palm of one hand, "and when the 'Old Regiment' marched through the crowded streets of Washington, in the grand review, Bob Sheldon rode along with us—and his straps bore the gold leaves, in place of the silver bars. Yes, he pulled through all right, and not longafter we were mustered out, I stood with him in the little church at home, and saw his handsome face light up when Nell—his 'little Nell'—came blushing down the aisle to end the long waiting.
"You see, the flying splinter of shell that had crushed him down had torn a frightful furrow in his scalp, and had stunned him for a time; but the skull wasn't fractured, and so, after a few weeks, he came back from hospital to us, strong and hearty, and nearly as handsome as ever. And now, Ned," glancing towards the major, and holding a flaming match above his freshly filled cob-pipe, "I've demonstrated to you how a band—if it's a good one and judicious in the selection of its music—can call a dead man back to life."
"But the fight, sir?" asked Van Sickles, from his lounging-place upon the cushions; "how did the fight come out?"
"Why, that's so! I forgot to mention how the affair ended," said the colonel, rising with a yawn. "Sam, you tell 'em; you know as much as I do about the rest of it."
"Wal, I dunno's thar's much more t' tell," drawled the old gunner, in response to thiscommand. "Fact is, thar warn't much fightin' a'ter th' reg'ment'd got through with its praise-meetin'. Ye see, soon's th' ol' gineral heard th' sound o' th' guns down Ashford way, he started a couple o' troops an' our batt'ry a-jumpin', an' we met Cun'l Burleigh's messenger on th' road. Wal, we sweat our teams some, an' got down thar real suddin; an' 'fore we'd done enough firin' t' heat th' guns, th' rebs pulled out o' th' clearin', hoss, foot, an' artill'ry—only thar warn't no hoss—an' took 'emselves off out o' th' way."
"Yes, that was the way it ended," said the chief, as Sam closed his official report of the action. "And now we must be getting along towards bed. Don't set too stiff a pace for us, Ned, in the parade; for all of the old boys aren't so able-bodied as I am, and to-morrow there'll be many a man in the Grand Army who'll have a hard struggle between pride and stiffened joints. Wonder why I lighted this pipe! Well, it's late, and I'm going to risk being caught on the street with it. Good-night, Sam."
"What's become of your man Sheldon, since the war?" asked Van Sickles, asthe little party picked its way down the stairs.
"I've lost him," replied the colonel, in an altered tone. "It's a long story, Van, and a sad one. Some other time, perhaps, I'll tell you; but not now."
THE SEVENTH MAJOR
"I was a-tryin'," Sam once meditatively remarked, up in The Battery, as he straightened himself up after carefully depositing a fresh log upon the blazing fire,—"I was a-tryin' t' figger out how many majors we've got now. Startin' at th' top, thar's threerealmajors, which are three; then thar be th' surg'n—he bein' also a major likewise—comin' t' four; then th' sargint-major an' drum-major totals her up t' six—an' then in comes Major Larry Callahan, at th' wind-up, makin' sev'n. Sev'n majors! Tol'able gen'rous outfit fur one reg'ment, hain't it?"
Well, yes—I suppose it is; and yet all seven of our majors ably fill their positions, while Major Larry Callahan certainly fillshisto the brim.
He never was enlisted, and his name has no place between the heavy leather covers ofthe paymaster's cherished roll-book, and yet he is just as much a part of the regiment as the colonel commanding, or for that matter, as the adjutant—and everybody knows how big a man a gold-corded adjutant considers himself. Why, I honestly believe that Colonel Elliott—at such times as it seems good to parade the Third, to exhibit the power of the Commonwealth's "Strong Right Arm"—never would think of giving the order to start into motion his seven hundred men unless he first had made sure that Larry was at his post in front of the big bass-drum. "Is Mulcahy in the ranks?" asked Hancock at Gettysburg. "He is? Then let the battle proceed!"—and that rather well illustrates our feelings in regard to our seventh major.
It was two years ago last June when he came to us. We just had topped off a week of hard work in camp by a long, hot parade through the dusty streets of the city, and six of our twelve companies had been dismissed to take trains for their out-of-town stations, while the rest of the regiment, with the drum-corps and the band, had marched up town to the big armory. How he got by thesentry at the door is more than I can tell, but somehow he managed it; I dare say he "sneaked it" in, under cover of the big drum which afterwards became his idol.
Captain Tom Stearns, of "A," had turned his company over to his first sergeant, and stood mopping his forehead with his handkerchief, as he watched his men slowly filing through the door of the drill-hall on their way upstairs to quarters, when he felt a tug at the skirts of his coat and heard a hoarse little voice demanding, "C'n I get a job carryin' de drum—say, can't I, mister? I c'n tote it jus' 's well's dat coon youse got dere, an' I'd match d' rest o' de men better."
The captain looked down, and discovered, about at the level of his belt, a fiery red head, crowned by the ruin of a once-white straw hat; while a snub nose, an enormous mouth, a lavish display of freckles, and a twinkling pair of impish gray eyes made up the prominent features of the face upturned for his inspection.
"How in time didyouget in here?" politely asked Stearns, taking the intruder by the ear, and entirely ignoring his request.
"Follied de band, same's youse did. Le' go me ear, will yer! Say, c'n I carry de drum?"
"No, you can't. Now, 'bout face—andmarch!" replied the captain, releasing the boy's ear. "Look out for the guard at the door, or he'll make a pincushion of you when you go by him."
The ragged little urchin turned away, his face puckering into a mass of wrinkles in which a fair share of the freckles disappeared, dug a dirty fist into each eye, and started towards the door.
"Here, come back for a minute!" called Stearns, who, though dusty, hot, and tired, felt some compunction for his roughness, and in amends meditated the offering of a dime. "What are you crying about?"
"I ain't cryin'; an' I wanted de job—an' I'm hungry," said the boy, stopping and turning about.
"Youwerecrying; and you can't have the job—and if you're hungry, why don't you go home to get a bite to eat, instead of hanging around processions?" said the captain, thrusting his hand into his pocket in search of a peace-offering.
"Ain't got no home t' go to," came the brief but comprehensive reply.
"Haven't, eh? What's your name?"
"Callahan—Larry Callahan," replied the imp, coming a step nearer. "Say,whycan't I carry de drum? Dat coon's clo'es would jus' about fit me, an' I sh'd t'ink de fellies would ruther 'sociate wid me dan wid him."
This novel view of the fitness of things seemed to come home with considerable force to the tall captain, for he grinned and said, "Well, I'm not sure that there isn't something in that view of the situation. Come along upstairs with me. I've got to shift out of my uniform, and after that I'll see what I can do for you. I'm hungry myself, and I've a faint suspicion that I'm also thirsty, so I can sympathize with you to a certain extent. Come along, 'Major'—we'll go foraging later."
In the company rooms there was tumult, as there always is when sixty men find themselves jammed into a confined space and simultaneously making the attempt to change from the blue of the soldier to the plainer and better-fitting costume of the civilian. Belt buckles clattered, locker doors slammed, andnow and again a stray bar of the latest popular song brought forth either a rousing chorus or else a roar of derision loud enough to drown all other sounds. Conversation, though rather fragmentary, was plentiful and generously spiced, for the week in camp had supplied the men with a brand-new stock of gags and guys, and a torrent of chaff, in which no one escaped, was raging unchecked.
"Who'll get the grand bounce for running the guard last Thursday night?" roared a voice, just as the captain and his new-found acquaintance reached the door of the company quarters; and, "Smith—PrivateSmith!" came back the answering yell.
"Yes, and the captain's got a recruit for your place, me boy," said a man standing near the door of the equipment-room, catching sight of Stearns' guest. "Come here, Smithy, and get onto the new un that's going to stuff out your uniform."
Stearns caught this last remark and smiled at it, for he had found recent occasion to "read the riot act" to one Private Smith, and he remembered having said that he might feel compelled to give that unruly warrior's uniform to some man more worthy of filling it.
In the snug officers' dressing-room the two lieutenants were engaged in freeing themselves from their heavy, uncomfortable dress-coats. Both looked up as the captain entered, and both laughed when he said, "Gentlemen, I have the honor of presenting Major Larry Callahan, who has inspected the regiment, and expresses complete satisfaction at its apparent efficiency. He more especially dwells upon the soldierly bearing of the drum-corps, though he criticises the complexion of the musician at the forward end of the boomer-drum, making the point that the presence of this black sheep among our tuneful lambs is in doubtful taste. I might add that he aspires to the position himself. Harry," to the second lieutenant, "you're smoking a cigarette! It's a nasty and often fatal habit—and you may give me one. It's the first article of war that a junior officer always must set 'em up for his superiors."
Stearns lighted the cigarette which this gentle hint brought forth from his subaltern's case, hung his heavy helmet upon a projecting gas-burner, and began leisurely to strip himself of his trappings.
"Where did you get it?" asked the seniorlieutenant, nodding at Larry, and then turning to deposit his sword and belt in his locker.
"He introduced himself to me, down in the hall," replied the captain, sighing contentedly as he flung his coat, with its row of jingling marksman's medals, across the nearest chair. "I'm to have the pleasure of his company at lunch, as soon as I can get into street costume. I crave food, and—by the Great White Label!—I crave pure, sparkling, cold water, or anything cold and wet," and he softly hummed to himself,
"No-bod-y knows how dry-I-am!"
"No-bod-y knows how dry-I-am!"
"No-bod-y knows how dry-I-am!"
"Then you'll not come over to the club with us?" asked the younger lieutenant, ruefully. "I know it seems a journey—way across town on a day like this—but we'd counted on your coming. Westbrook, of the Fourth, is going to meet us, and possibly Van Sickles will be there. Can't you fix it?"
"No, not to-day, boys," said the captain, taking from his locker a straw hat and placing it upon his head, with a mental comparison between its weight and that of his stiff, spiked helmet; "I can't do it to-day. I'mgoing to the hotel for a bite, and then I'm bound straight for home—and a tub. Well, so-long! Remember, I must see you both here to-morrow afternoon—say, at half-past four. Come on, Major," and with a nod to his lieutenants he left the room.
The two younger men winked at each other, when the captain had disappeared, and the junior found occasion to remark, "Isn't he the gaudy old crank! Always picking upsomecurio or other—but this last 'find' of his comes near beating 'em all, eh?"
"It's one of his original ways of amusing himself," said the other, stepping to the mirror to adjust his tie, "and I dare say he enjoys it—but it isn't every one that could afford to go 'round in that way, with a dirty little ruffian tagging along at his heels. Come, Harry, aren't you ready yet? Well, get a gait on you, then—we don't want to keep Westbrook in agony any longer than necessary."
Over at the hotel, Stearns put his guest through a vigorous course of soap-and-towel exercise, and then ushered him into the gentlemen'scafé. To be sure, the waiters stared a bit when the tall captain and his dilapidated follower took possession of a table; butStearns was a frequent and liberal patron, and so—in spite of the exceedingly doubtful social standing of his companion—his order received prompt and willing attention. In the attack upon the food the honors were easy, but I'm reasonably sure that Larry gave good account of himself, for I've had the privilege of seeing him eat, in his company mess at camp, and so I'm able to vouch for his ability as a trencher-man.
So long as anything eatable remained on the table, conversation languished, but when the last crumb had disappeared—a matter to which Larry probably attended—the captain called for a glass of Kümel-and-ice, lighted a cigar, and said, "Well, Major Callahan, I trust that good digestion may be pleased to attend your appetite. How are you feeling—well lined?"
"By Jinks!" responded his guest, drawing his forefinger across his throat, "me tank's loaded 'way up t' here. Dat was dandy grub, de bes' I ever got."
"Can't you go something more?" asked Stearns, much gratified at the spirit in which his hospitality had been received.
"No-o, I'm 'fraid I couldn't fin' de room,"said the little fellow, slowly and with an air of deep regret. "I'd like t' 'commodate yer, but me 'commodations is all took up."
"If that's the case, then," said the captain, raising his glass to inspect the icy film with which its exterior had become coated, "we'll indulge in a gentlemanly chat. You'resurethere's nothing else you want?"
"Well, Ismokes," was Larry's suggestive response to this last question, "an' if youse 've got a cig'rette—"
"No, youdon'tsmoke," put in the captain with some emphasis; "at least, you don't smoke here."
"Jus' 's yer say, o' course," replied his guest. "I don't care much 'bout it—on'y I t'ought p'r'aps 'twould be sort o' comp'ny t' yer."
"Well, it wouldn't be," said Stearns, pushing his chair a trifle farther away from the table. "And now, Major, suppose you tell me something about yourself. You say you've no home—what's the reason?"
The boy took a big gulp of water, hesitated for an instant, and then—catching the kindly expression in the captain's eye—rested his elbows upon the table, and told hisstory: how he never had known a father; how his mother had been sent away for a long term at the women's reformatory; and how he himself had been consigned to the fostering care of an "Institution," but had managed to evade the officer who had been sent to conduct him to it.
"I s'pose I'd oughter ha' went t' de 'Home,'" admitted Larry, as he concluded his brief and pitiful life's history; "but, hones', I couldn't stan' it t' live de way dem kids does. Dey gets dere t'ree meals a day, an' has a place t' sleep—but dat's de whole of it. An' as fer fun, why, what doesdeyknow 'bout fun? Nothin'! Jus' youse look at 'em sometime, an' see what a peepy-looking lot dey is. Huh! dey ain't got no guts at all!" and with this inelegant summing-up of the moral effects of charity-rearing he dismissed as absurd any possibility of his subjecting himself to its tender mercies.
Captain Stearns heard the boy through, and then for a few minutes sat thoughtfully smoking. Finally he fixed his eyes upon the little gamin, and abruptly asked, "Larry, are you honest?"
"Yessir," replied the boy promptly, meetingunfalteringly the captain's glance, "Yessir, I'm dead on de square, an' if 'twasn't dat I'm tryin' t' keep clear o' de 'Home,' I'd jus' 's lives walk up t' any copper in town."
"That's business," said Stearns, "and I'm glad to hear you say so. Now, I'm going to give you some money, to keep you running until tomorrow,"—with this he drew out a handful of change,—"and if you're playing a square game with me you'll meet me tomorrow noon, at the armory. Ask for Captain Stearns, and they'll let you in. I'm not sure that I can do anything for you—I can't today, at any rate—but we can talk over the situation. Is it a go?"
"Yep, I'll be wid youse," said the boy, hesitatingly taking the money which his entertainer pushed across to him. "A quarter, an' ten's t'irty-five—an' t'ree nick'ls is a ha'f!" he went on, inspecting the tokens of the captain's munificence. "Gee-cricketty! w'at'll I do wid all de wealt'? Somebody'll be marryin' me fer me forchune, 'f I ain't careful!"
"You needn't spend it all, unless you have to," said Stearns; "and if you have any of it left, when you meet me tomorrow, I shallthink all the better of you. See here," he went on, yielding to a sudden whim, and tossing over a bill as he spoke, "suppose you put on a little style, and pay for this lunch of ours!"
Larry's eyes twinkled as he clutched at the bill, and his mouth twisted itself into a grin of alarming proportions, but in an instant he assumed an air of unruffled composure, and beckoning to the waiter he inquired, "Sa-ay, cully, w'at's de taxes on dese 'freshments?"
The astonished waiter, check in hand, for a moment stood glancing back and forth from the captain to the ragged but unabashed urchin. But Larry, waving the bill in his face, demanded, "Have youse b'en drinkin'? I axed youse de damage on de whole layout!"
"Yas, sah," at length said the bewildered colored man, laying the check before the boy, "I heerd yo'!"
"Dendat'sall right," said Larry, picking up the check and glancing at it, only to break out with, "W'at!Two dollars an' a quarter? Why, I seen a place, on'y dis mornin', where dey gives youse a square meal—'de bes' in de city,' it said on de sign—fer twenty cents!"
"I think the check is correct," put in Stearns, smiling at the indignant expression on Larry's face and the disgusted look of the waiter. "Pay up—you're not being cheated."
After matters had been adjusted satisfactorily, the captain rose, held out his hand to his guest, and said, "Well, my boy, I must be going. Hope you enjoyed your lunch as well as I did mine. You'll drop in on me tomorrow, eh?"
"Sure!" replied the major, as he hunted for a pocket secure enough for the retaining of his suddenly acquired riches. "T'anks fer de grub, an' I'm 'bliged fer all dis mon'. An'say," coaxingly, "yousemusthave pull enough fer t' get me de place on de drum."
"I'm afraid I can't promise you that," said the captain, stopping as they reached the street, "for the drum-corps is rather outside my command. Well, I turn off here—goodbye, until tomorrow noon, Major."
The next forenoon Captain Tom varied his customary Sunday routine by taking a stroll through a quarter of the city with which he had but slight acquaintance, and casually dropping in at the station house ofthe precinct wherein Larry claimed former residence. A short chat with the lieutenant behind the rail brought out a number of unedifying facts about the lad's parentage, but Stearns found that hisprotégéhad kept to the truth in telling his story; and so, considerably encouraged, he took a cab and went to meet his appointment at the armory.
Promptly at noon Major Larry reported with an elaborate sweep of the hand evidently meant to represent a military salute, and with a most expectant grin upon his mobile features.
"On time to a minute, that's proper," said Captain Tom, drawing out the sliding book-shelf of his desk, and utilizing it as a resting-place for his long legs. "Sit down, Larry, and we'll have a conference of the powers. How did your 'wealt'' hold out?"
Silently, but with a splendid air of pride, the boy drew a handful of coins from his pocket, came over to the captain's desk, and spread out his capital for inspection. Stearns counted the collection, and found that it aggregated eighty-two cents.
"H'm! so you're a young Napoleon of finance?" he said, as the little fellow putback the money into his pocket. "Well, tell me how you managed it."
"It was dis way," explained Larry, balancing himself on the back of a chair: "t' start wid, I had de ha'f youse gin me; an' den I went into de papey biz, and sol' enough t' make twenty cents more. Now, dat was 'velvet'—dem two dimes was—an' so I went t' pitchin' pennies wid de Pie Alley gang, an' I win t'irty more, makin' an even skimole. Well, I 'stood' on dat, 'cause I wasn't takin' no chances; an' I've got de stack, 'ceptin' t'ree cents I give Reddy Burns fer a shine, and fifteen w'at I blew in on me breakfus'. I slep' wid Reddy las' night, y' know, an' so I paid 'im fer me lodgin' by lettin' 'im black me boots—which wasn't no snap fer 'im, 'cause one o' dem boots is a cloth 'un, an' he kep' shinin' fer an hour 'fore he c'd get it t' glitterin'."
"Where did you get your supper?" inquired Stearns, leaning back in his chair and laughing at Larry's report of his business transactions.
"Oh, I didn't want much supper, 'cause it was so late when you an' me was eatin'," returned the major, jingling his coins in hispocket, "but I matched wid Slinky Smith fer a piece o' pie, down in de alley, an stuck'm. Say, I'll give back dat ha'f, if youse want it—an' how 'bout de drum?"
Well, Larry failed to get the position his soul coveted—at least, atthattime—but when, after being in executive session for more than an hour, the Conference of the Powers adjourned, he had been appointed "Company Kid" for "A"; and on the Monday night following he duly was introduced to the men, and was installed formally in office.
From that day until now his popularity steadily has grown greater—"and for good cause." He has an inexhaustible fund of Irish wit, by but one generation removed from The Sod, and sharpened to the keenest edge by the sort of life he has led. He is a tower of strength in his command of modern Arabic, that weirdpatoiswhich reaches its full power and beauty only in the streets of a great city. He can sing, after a fashion, and his ability to "do a dance act" is unquestioned, for when he executes the steps it is with an air of impressive earnestness and solemnity that never fails to bring down the house. In fact,since his advent, when we in the staff-room hear a yell of delight come echoing down the stairs and along the corridors, we grin sympathetically one to another, and say, "Larry's at it again—the little devil!"
He is clever, too, at all sorts of things over which the volunteer hates to fuss, and many a dime comes his way in return for his skill in polishing buttons and brasses for the lazy men of the company—and "A," with fifty-eight enlisted men upon its rolls, boasts of an aggregate of fifty-seven who always are "in fatigue," the remaining one being the tireless first-sergeant.
Yes, it was a great and ruby-lettered day for "A"—the day when Larry came to it—and in all its long history its quarters never were kept so neat and clean, and its officers and men never were entertained so well as they have been since he began his genial reign. And it was a great day for the regiment when our "seventh major" joined—for Stearns' nickname of "Major" Callahan has been adopted officially—because Larry's fame has gone abroad in the land, and his deeds have added new lustre to the name of the Third.
Larry had been with us a little over a year when his great opportunity came to him. It was on a certain night when "A" had made arrangements for a smoke-talk, up in quarters—for Captain Stearns had met at his club one Lieutenant Hackett, of the regular cavalry, whom he had induced, after much patient persuasion, to come over to the armory and informally talk to the boys on the delights and discomforts of chasing Indians around through the Bad Lands.
Now, much as Larry respected his own corps, he held the regulars in even higher esteem, for he always had heard "The Army" held up as a pattern of all that is, in a military sense, good-and-holy and generally worthy of imitation by the hard-working and much-cursed-at volunteer. So when it came to his ears that a regular officer—and one, too, who actually had seen holes shot through people!—really was going to honor his domain by his presence, he went to work with even greater energy than he had displayed at inspection time, and accomplished a house-cleaning such as would have warmed the heart of any New England matron to witness.
First he swept the floor, and then he dusted from the furniture the dust which had been raised by that operation, and then he swept up again the dust which the dusting had caused to return to the carpet—and then he paused, reflecting that, in the nature of things, he might continue this alternation forever unless he stopped. So, after a final dusting, he bent his energies to the arrangement of the chairs, marshalling them in ranks of military rigidity, and squinting critically along each row—muttering, "Back in de center, dere!" or "Up on de left, dad-gast-yer-shoulder-blades!" as he rectified the alignment. Then he polished the glasses of the pictures which form the nondescript art-gallery of the company; and finally he put the crowning touch to his afternoon's work by brushing the plush cushions of the great, carved chair in which the captain seats himself on occasions of state and ceremony.
He had been so busy that he had allowed his supper-hour to slip by unheeded, and when he happened to glance up at the clock he gave a low whistle of surprise, and said to himself, "Quarter pas' sev'n?Wow!how de time's be'n humpin' along? Well, Is'pose I might's well skip me grub now: de boys'll be showin' up in less 'n a shake."
He had given one last critical glance around the room and was turning towards the door, when his eye fell upon the great, wrought-iron lamp which the company rifle-team had won, a couple of years before, in a match with "K," of the Fourth, and suddenly he remembered that the oil in it nearly had been burned out. Now, the boys of "A" regard that lamp with particular affection, because it was won in a contest to which they had been egged-on by a series of peculiarly exasperating events; and it has become a time-honored custom of the company to have the lamp a-glow on every occasion when its members are assembled by night. So Major Larry, knowing that the absence of its cheerful rays would rouse the wrath of the company kickers, picked up the heavy mass of iron, and lugged it into the equipment-room.
Here he filled the lamp, polished the chimney, trimmed the wick, lighted it, and had raised his burden to carry it back to its place—when, in some unexplained way, he lost his grip upon it, and the whole heavyaffair went crashing down upon the floor. In an instant the scattered oil was in a blaze, and as Larry stood there, horrified at his mishap, he saw the creeping tongues of flame beginning to lick their way up the varnished woodwork of the nearest lockers. In two jumps he was at the door: a dozen steps more brought him, yelling "Fire!" at the top-pitch of his voice, out into the corridor—and then there came to him a thought that almost stilled the beating of his heart.
"Good Gawd!" he gasped, stopping short in his tracks, "dey's five hundred round o' ca'tridge an' a ten-pound canister o' powder in de nex' locker to de one dat's burnin'—an' de door's locked! Oh, what'll I do—what'llI do!"
Well, here's what he did do—and we have fallen into the way of believing that no man could have done much better work. On the wall of the company room, in the midst of a collection of flint-lock muskets and other antiquated contrivances for achieving wild shots, hung a heavy axe, a relic of theante-bellumdays when "A"—at that time an independent company—added dignity to itsparades by maintaining a small but ferocious-looking pioneer corps. Rushing in from the hallway, Larry tore this long-disused implement from its hooks, and dashed with it back into the equipment-room. By this time the flames had gained a fair start, and the blazing woodwork was crackling merrily, while the air was heavy and suffocating from the smoke of the burning oil and varnish.
With a single blow of the axe Larry sent the flimsy locker-door crashing from its hinges, and then, stooping down, he felt around for the powder can.The locker was empty!
"Yah! yer jay," he snarled at himself, as the smoke choked him; "yer poor, dam' jay—it's denex'one!" and he snatched up the axe, swung it again, and splintered the burning door of the adjoining locker.
This time he hit his mark, for after an instant of frantic groping in the thick smoke, he got his hands upon the canister and flung it far from him, out into the room beyond. Then, by an effort almost superhuman, he dragged out the heavy, wooden case of cartridges, staggered with it through the flame and smoke—and fell in a dead faint acrossit, just as he cleared the threshold. And there, not five seconds later, the armorer found him, when he came rushing into the room with a line of stand-pipe hose, by the agency of which the blaze speedily was conquered.
Poor little major! His hands and face were cruelly burned, his thick crop of curly, red hair was wofully singed, and he had inhaled smoke enough to demoralize utterly his breathing-machinery. The firemen—for whom, upon hearing Larry's shout of alarm, the armorer had stopped to telephone—tenderly bore the lad downstairs to the staff-room; and just before the first of "A's" men strolled into the building an ambulance rolled away from the door, bearing the still unconscious form of the company kid.
Around the armory, that night, conversation was carried on in rather quiet tones, and nobody talked much except of Larry and his heroism. As soon as Stearns came in he was told of what had happened, and sending immediately for a cab he drove off post-haste to the hospital, leaving his lieutenants to receive his Army guest. In half an hour he was back again, with word that Larry, though badlyburned and in great pain, was in no immediate danger—at which bit of news there came an audible sigh of relief from the men who had crowded around him. And then some one sung out "Hooray!" and the rest came in with a shout that set the window panes to rattling.
Lieutenant Hackett was unfortunate in his audience that evening, for the boys—though they listened with studied politeness to his remarks—had something else upon their minds. But he got as much applause as any one could wish, when—at the close of his talk—he said, "Congress awards a Medal of Honor to those in the Army who perform deeds of exceptional bravery, and I can recall a long list of those who have received the decoration; but I wish to say that I can call to mind no instance of purer grit than that displayed today by your unlucky little comrade."
It certainly seemed a long time before Larry came back to us, but one night he turned up in our midst, as happy as ever and nine or ten degrees prouder than a colonel on the Governor's staff—for Stearns had fitted him out with a complete drum-corps uniform, madeexpressly for him, and Colonel Elliott had used his influence to make for his especial benefit a vacancy at the advance-end of the big drum. The affairs of the regiment ran more smoothly after his return, and I can remember the change in the aspect of "A's" men—for Larry was himself again, and funnier than ever.
But there was still more glory awaiting him. About two weeks after he had "re-joined," we had a battalion-drill in the big hall, and after it a dress parade. The companies had got wind of what was coming, and the ranks were full. It was Larry's first appearance with the drum-corps, and when the field music "sounded-off" along the line, the air with which he stepped out lacked little of being superb.
The adjutant had received the reports and published the orders, when the colonel, in a low tone, said a word or two to him which caused him to face about and walk along the front of the battalion to the spot where Larry was standing, stiff as a post, among the musicians. In a moment he returned, bringing the bewildered lad with him, and then the colonel stepped a pace forward to meet him,and pinned upon his breast a bronze Maltese cross, inscribed:
"A" Co., 3rd InfantryTOLarry CallahanFORDISTINGUISHED BRAVERY.
And beside this simple decoration he fastened the regimental badge, brilliant with its glittering gold and bright enamel—a tribute from the officers of the field and staff.
Of course the colonel made a little speech, but it was a short one and the words were simple. As he finished he shook hands with the boy, and then brought the battalion to a "carry," after which he called out, "Present:arms!"
Up with a snap came the long line of rifles; down drooped the colors until their golden fringes touched the floor; the flashing blades of the officers rose and fell—and little Larry Callahan had been saluted by the crack regiment of the Old Commonwealth!
"Now, adjutant," said Colonel Elliott, when the line again stood at attention, "just take Major Larry to the left of the line and marchhim along the front to the right, so that all the men can see him. Chin in, Larry, my boy—and keep a stiff upper lip!"
The boy said never a word, but saluted and then started off with the adjutant. For a time discipline went into eclipse: the men yelled "Hi! Hi!" and thumped their rifle-butts upon the floor, until the great hall shook to its very foundations—while the officers not only neglected to check the uproar, but even went so far as to help in swelling it.
Larry stood it all like a Spartan, tramping along with eyes to the front and head well up, until he came abreast of the center, where "A" stood in line, with the colors. But here he broke down, hid his face behind the adjutant's arm, and sobbed as though his heart would burst, when the sixty men—his friends and comrades, every one of them—broke into a wild yell of applause as he came before them.
Well, that ended the ovation; for Captain Stearns, seeing at a glance that the strain had been too heavy for the boy to bear, raised his hand in a warning gesture to his men, picked up the little hero, swung him up upon his shoulder, and marched with him straightalong the line and then out of the hall, leaving his company to take care of itself as best it might. And yet, so far as my knowledge goes, Colonel Elliott never has taken the slightest notice of this most un-military proceeding of the captain's!
CONCERNINGTHEVALUE OF SLEEP