Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 35, Number 76, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 May 1903 — A MEMORIAL DAY SURPRISE. [ARTICLE]

A MEMORIAL DAY SURPRISE.

HI wai the week before Memorial Day. Everyone in Thornvilje was excited, and why not? Were they lot going to celebrate, when “every one would be sure to turn out?” remarked an •14 veteran. Thomville hml never celebrated before, although the little cemetery was dotted with mounds which narked the last resting place of soldiers, whe had so gallantly defended their country, A meeting of the Citizens had been •ailed at which Tt was decided that it was time they did something in honor of these dead heroes. Each was willing to Ms best, and when the president of tike~<xih4nittee went to Zcch Spergen, or “Unde itske,” ae he wae better known, a*d eaid, “01-course you will give us a speech, being a veteran yourself,” Zechariah answered, “Wall, 1 reckon the •alebrath?’ won’t be kept back because ' ffSl Dill ijl ii iTT Tj~ ■ Wncle Zeke was busy the next week. Ha really liked the fun. He was 83 ■>•— si I tlm oldest veteran in the country—and be was rather proud of the diathsctlon At 43 he had enlisted, and he had a son who also went into battle With the “coat of blue.” Memorial Day dawned bright and alter. Everything seemed In its glory, •■i no one wore a brighter smile than Ad* Zeke Bpergen. When his name was called with quick, nervous steps he leek his place on the stage and read the fokrwing oration: . „ “It k two score years ago or more daw I enlisted for the war, and went sway down South. Wa did some pretty

smart tussling with the rebels of that land. I was acting as a sentinel on a dark and stormy night, when suddenly I peered into the darkness and saw a man’s figure. “ ‘Halt,’ I demanded. ‘Come no farther till you give the countersign!’ “‘Oh, father! don’t you know me?’ cried the man. “ ‘Why, Tom! How came you here?’ I asked, and he fell as if almost dead. “I quickly lifted him in my arms and Carried him to the tent. “The next day there was a battle, a long, fierce one, and death went with the exploding of the soldiers’ awful guns. I caught a glimpse of my brave boy, after the thickest of the fray. He was bending over a comrade with a whispered word of cheer, and a promise to write for him, to the friends who were so dear. The soldier’s breath grew quicker, and on Tom he leaned, till his life candle flickered and went out. “One day I was wounded by a shot, and In a few days I came here to my home on the hill, . As I was reading of the dead, suddenly there arose a miat, sort of swimming in my head, for my Tom’s name was on the list. He had died for his country’s sake.” Tears were in the listeners’ eyes as Zeke slowly took his seat, amid cheers that echoed and re-echoed. Nor was that all. While he was reading, a tall, bearded man of about GO years entered and took a front seat. Apparently he was a stranger, but after the shouts had ceased he arose and faced the audience. “Friends,” he said, “no doubt you think I am a stranger, but I am not. I am he that used, to be called Tommie Spergen, and am no other than Zechariah Spergen’s son, for which I am justly proud.” In an instant Uncle Zeke was at his side, but only tears told his gratitude. He was too moved to speak. Yes, there were the same eyes, and the same mark on the forehead. After the excitement had calmed Tom continued, “There was a mistake in the names. ’Twas another Tom that died and the news was rent to the wrong parents. I have been west all these years, have made my fortune and have returned to take care of my mother and father in their declining days.” As he finished speaking, three cheers were given to welcome him back to his home. And that Memorial Day in Thornville was one long to be remembered. —Detroit Free Press.