The dying gunner raised his head, His lips were faintly stirred-- “Captain, I said I’d do my best-- And--I have kept my word!” MARGARET JUNKIN PRESTON. (By special permission of Dr. George J. Preston.) 32 AN INCIDENT OF WAR Our new flag-bearer, pale and slim, A beardless youth of quiet mien, Much chaffed at by the soldiers grim (Before in battle he had been), Hid the heroic fire in him. He sang old hymns, and prayed at night; “A bad sign,” quoth the sergeant bold; “Camp-meeting tunes before a fight Loosen a soldier’s moral hold, And pluck beats prayer a mighty sight.” The boy blushed red, but tenderly He to the sergeant turned, and said: “That God should mind me what am I? And yet by Him my soul is fed-- Send this to mother if I die.” The sergeant, with a knowing look, And winking at the rest, replied: “Yes, son, I’ll give your Ma the book--” Just then a volley rattled wide, And one great gun the valley shook. The pale flag-bearer disappeared. “Gone to the rear,” the sergeant said; “Praying would make a Turk afeared; Those lonesome tunes have turned his head--” And then the tide of battle neared. We formed in haste and dashed away, Across the field, our place to fill; At first a skirmish, then a spray Of cannon smoke upon a hill Flanked by long lines in close array. Down charged the foe; we rushed to meet, We filled the valley like a sea; The cannons flashed a level sheet Of blinding flame, the musketry Cut men as sickles cut the wheat! Oh, then we shouted! More and more The fervor of our courage rose, As through our solid columns tore The death hail’s crashing, gusty blows, And louder leaped the cannon roar! But how could human courage meet That icy flood? All, all in vain Our counter-charge; in slow retreat We crossed the tumbled heaps of slain, With grave-pits yawning at our feet! “Rally! For shame!” rang out a cry Forth from the thundering vortex cast; A voice so steady, clear, and high, It sounded like a bugle-blast Blown from the lips of Victory. We paused, took hope, yelled loud, and so Renewed the charge, all as one man, Leaped where Death’s waves had thickest flow, And felt the breath of horror fan Our naked souls as cold as snow! The volleys quickened, coalesced, Rolled deep, rocked earth, and jarred the sky, When lo, our banner-bearer pressed His standard forward, held it high And rode upon the battle’s crest! We saw him wave it over all; Caught in the battle trough and dashed From side to side, it would not fall; But like a meteor danced and flashed And reveled in the sulphurous pall!