The Syracuse Journal, Volume 22, Number 5, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 30 May 1929 — Page 3

The BLADE of PICARDY

CHAPTER 1 «—l—— The Case Miramon and Anita As the sun went down behind the •towering hills beyond Chapuitepec, and the purple haze of evening fell, we were wont to drag our chairs and our tables out to the sidewalk tn front of the Case Miramon—which faced the graceful, nodding elms of the Alameda—and to build us a corner of the old Maison Doree. Here we gathered: Mironsac, lieutenant tn the royal forces of his majesty, Maximilian, a Gascon lad of proved courage, whom we called —because of the simple sweetness of his beardless face —Cupido; Lieutenant Neville, whose shoulders were broad, whose black curly hair lay close against his massive head, whose voice was deep and gentle, and whose smiling eyes were blue and unafraid; Captain Lestrange, military aide to the emperor—heavy, dark, saturnine —a coldly calculating, mental machine of tremendous abll tty; and, lastly. Alfred Francois, count de Vigny, captain—by grace of the favor of Maximilian—in the French army of occupation in Mexico. We were pawns—we feur —ic the empire-building game of Charles JLouis Napoleon Bonaparte, whose long arm had reached across the -ocean to plant a bit of old France in the New world. It proved to be a futile, ill-starred gesture after all, for the third Napoleon should never have attempted that which the tlrst Napoleon bad tried to do and. failed. Looking back now through Time’s perspective I tind many things to regret, and few for which to offer gratitude. Habitually we drank too much, temperamentally we talked too much, and the Judgment of maturer years tells me that our excesses added nothing to the prestige or to the popularity of Maximilian. But the French are an arrogant race, and Mexico seemed weak and helpless at our feet. S<> we whiled away the later afternoons. the long twilights, and half the crisp cool nights. And we either started or finished with the one subject that lay nearest us, the only •cross-current in the placid stream of Maximilian’s reign tn the historic city; but a cross-current so potent, so fraught with menace, that to disregard it longer would have been a piece of Inexcusable stupidity. That cross-current we called La Anita. Like Circp of old she bad led men to their doom. Os our own crowd there were Besancon and Leroux, who had called to pay their respects, who bad followed the lure of beauty—for the Frenchman will follow that lure for ever —and had disappeared as com pletely as though some Aztec air-god had carried them off. There was Duroc, one of Gascony’s favored souls, who had gone to worship at the shrine of love, and whose body we had found floating in the canal. And now Cupido. having brought back a wounded shoulder from that aouse of mystery, balanced himself precariously—with one foot on the pavement and the other on a chair—and voiced, tn winemellowed tones, high laudation of this lorelei. “Name of G—d,” said he, “what a woman! All the lithe grace of a panther is In the gestures of that exquisite body of hers; she is chilled steel and tire; she Is deep glacial lake and laughing mountain rill; she is dignity, regal poise and sweet reserve. Her eyes are a soft and velvety limpid amber, her hair has that mysterious, smoky, purplish brown of •desert twilight, and her —" He waved a left arm in suddenly muted impotence. “Continue, we pray theeLestrange laughed, but It was a laugh of the tips only. r his eyes remained cold, •steadfast. “A murderous thrust from the lady’s escort, and be comes back to us with peans of praise of the lady’s eharm, upon his foolish lips.” Lestrange’s saurian face hardened. “Know you not, that many a French ■officer has followed the lure of a lovely senorita only to find a ren•dezvons with death?” “Better a grave of glory,” quoth -Cupido the dreamer, “than Ignoble life. Besides, she kissed me.” “Did you ask her, Cupido, what has • become of Besancon. and of Leroux. and by what evil chance the body of Duroc found its way into the canal, a body with a sword-thrust tn the heart; did she tell you what happened to those brave sons of France?" “She did not," answered Cupido; “1 did not ask her. Besides," he con--1 tinned. and a dreamy look fell like a •soft mantle upon his smooth boyish -face, “if she kissed them they must have died happy." “It’s murder." said Lestrange. “mysterious. premeditated murder, and his majesty—" “Not so." said Cupido. "It anything. I was the aggressor. True, 1 did not like bls manner, and, doubtless. no more did be care for mine. He gave me my choice, however, of weapons; pistols across the table, or one of two light rapiers that hung—crossed —over the mantel." “Pistols,” gasped Lestrange the unimaginative, “across the table! ft's •cold-blooded murder!” • “Pistols." mused Neville, .“across a few feet of shining mahogany! A man of daring—surely." He thought • momeirt. “Then Besancon and Leroux and Duroc must have chosen the •words.” “The duel was quite to my liking.” said Cupido. “for the curved grip of • rapier finds a welcome home tn my hand. And to fight before Anita —ah!” “What is his name?" 1 questioned. “What matter a mere name?" said Mironsae. “1 had no ears for the man, 1 wasted no glances on him while I was privileged to look into the amber •yes of La Anita." “And you got only a thrust tn the •boulder.” growled Lestrange; “you Are fortunate.” “He offered me my life,” continued the Gascon, “on conditions.” “I think.” said Neville, “1 see a light; proceed.” “He said that Benito Juarez needed men of courage; he offered me a commission in the army of the erstwhile

By Fred McLaughlin Copyright by The Bobbs-Merrill Co. W. N. U. Service President, who has pm up so stubborn a resistance against the emperor." “Sucre I" gasped Lestrange. “And he promised me immunity and honors when Mexico shall have won Its independence from Maximilian and the power of France. I told him that 1 served one master, and that master is Maximilian.” “Os course.” said Neville; “go on." Cupido continued: “Then be swore a great and potent oath —one of the kind that must have been brewing for centuries—and he built around me a living wall of steel. Such swordsmanship was a thing beyond my dreams; I was a helpless babe before him. and I think La Anita must have, been touched, either by the worship she had seen tn my eyes, or by my helplessness before this modern Bagard. for she cried out as his rapier stung my shoulder.” » “Humph I” said L “He Is as tall as yon are, Monsieur le Comte, his shoulders are as broad, and his body Is even more powerfully muscled. He possesses a wrist of steel, the movements of his body have the quickness of a cat. and the facility of his swordsmanship Is second not even to thine own. mon capl “Ah. so?” said 1. with some beat, “for he had touched me on a tender spot—and knew it. “Perchance opportunity will offer whereby a test shall be .made to find our which of us is the inferior blade. You and Duroc. and Bescancon and Leroux have failed; it Is high time that some man of France shall prick this paragons who secures himself behind the skirts of a lady. Perhaps the Blade of Picardy—” “Yon wouldn’t” cried Neville. “The emperor—” “It is Just because ot the emperor that I would.” said 1. “One life Is little enough to sacrifice If this menace to his majesty’s security may be removed. Besides." I continued. “1 fear me that the lady’s charms have blinded the eyes of our courageous Gascon, and have brought a palsy to his very efficient wrist.” “Just as her charms might also, mon capitalne.” jeered Cupido. “blind thine own. and bring a palsy to that dexterous wrist ot thine.” “Her charms shall have that chance.” I boasted, for I shall make

Hi 1 "~ - i IB □III “The Duel Was Quite to My Liking," Said Cupido. opportunity as quickly as possible. Our Bayard shall fight one tuore tight —his lasL Leroux and Besancon and Duroc shall be avenged. We will see if the first sword of Picardy is second to that of this murderer. There will be no pricked shoulders this time; one»of us will go out of that house of mystery and death alive, the other—" “If we permit this mad venture,' mused Neville, who knew my grayhaired mother in St. Simon, “and this Bayard serves you as he served Du roc, what his majesty will say to us will burn us to 8 cinder, and what he might do to us is a thing i shudder to contemplate.” “It is not that you permit," said L “You can say that I have looked upon the glorious Anita, and that, in spite of your combined protests and objections, I followed the lure of beauty just as the others have done.” “Madness!” cried Neville. “And entirely unnecessary,” added Lestrange, who had smiled at my boastful outburst, “for La Anita shall be summoned tomorrow before the emperor, and the mysterious Bayard will doubtless find a swift and certain death against a wall.” “No.” said Cupido. his smooth face transfixed with horror, “the emperor never would!” ■ “That’s his present plan,” smiled Lestrange. “I have the summons for La Anita in my pocket even now. and Monsieur Bayard will surely be dealt with soon.” “The execution of the father of La Anita.” said Neville, “was, I believe, a grievous blunder, for he was well beloved in Mexico; and if the heavy hand of Maximilian falls upon his daughter, I fear for the cause of France. Even a stupid people will stand only so- much, and then—" “There is not strength tn Mexico,’’ averred Lestrange, “to withstand the power of France. The heavy band is the only hand that can rule.” “For a while." said L “but -the heavy hand is due for certain failure. How much. Captain Lestrange. had you to do with this new purpose of his majesty? A deal—l’ll swear." He laughed at my question. “1 am thinking of the cause of France," he said. “That portion of the plan. Monsieur le Comte, which was not

born In my own brain, came from that of Colonel Lopez.” “And his majesty leans entirely upon Colonel Lopez.” said Neville. “A most able soldier.” vowed Lestrange; "and the emperor makes no mistake in the faith he puts In him A brilliant, far-sighted man." I arose and extended a hand to Lestrange. “1 will relieve you. monsieur, of the unpleasant and possibly dangerous task of presenting that summons to the fair Aqita. It offers me entree. It gives me every opportunity I require to cross swords with Monsieur Bayard.” Lestrange. grinning, drew rhe heavy folded paper from a pocket and handed It to me. “1 owe you a drink. Monsieur le Comte, for relieving me of a thankless errand. After you have delivered to the lovely’ La Anita the summons for her appearance before the emperor, you are free to pursue any mad venture that yonr quixotic temperament may lead you Into. Monsieur le Capitaine. hut until that summons is delivered you are on his majesty’s mission.” “Trust me.” said I; “tomorrow you will see—” “She comes!” breathed Cupido. He got to his feet In unseemly haste, stepped quickly to the curb, and waited, cap in hand. She sat. with an elderly lady, tn a graceful, open barouche drawn by two magnificent bays, and driven by a broad-shouldered mozo whose dark face held the stony Impassivity of the Sphinx. The Gascon, at the curb, turned and winked an eye at me. “Your chance,” said Lestrange. “Go ahead.” I looked at Neville, who shook his head. “When Monsieur Bayard has finished with you.” be said with a smile. “1 will take him on.” your chance will never come.” said I, stepping from the curb and approaching the carriage, which swayed—dory-like—with every move of the occupants. “And your shoulder, lieutenant.’’ she said. Her rich musical voice carried a note of genuine anxiety; “It IS—?” * Cupido gulped. Truly the Gascon carries his heart upon his sleeve. I think I have never seen a face so exquisitely lovely, nor a form more graciously fashioned. The clear olive of her skin seemed almost transparent. Her lashes were long and black, and her full red lips belied the thin high arch of eyebrows. Hers was a face of contrasts, for the Gascon had rightly termed her “chilled steel and fire.” Some of his mad worship fired my brain. “Name of G—d,” he had said, “what a woman!” Well 1 Beautiful? Os a truth she was beautifulAnd believe me. I have seen beauty in women, for the courts of Vienna and of Paris know me well. Cupido’s voice came to me from a vague and misty distance; I heard only a portion of what he was saying: “ . ■» to present my best friend, le Comte de Vigny. Captain—" I caught the slim fingers, raised them awkwardly to eager lips, and I found myself listening—as in a dream —to the music of her voice. The very air seemed suddenly charged with a new and spiritual glory; life, al) at once, became very much worth while “Lorelei.” I whispered, unconscious of the fact that I was speaking, “a dark —” * Bed lips parted in a smile, and a light danced In the deep amber eyes. “But the Lorelei were fair —is It not so, senor?” Cupido looked at me in blank amazement. He touched my elbow “The Senorita Arrellanos, mon capitaine.” he repeated, for. deaf and dumb and blind to all the world save La Anita, I had not heard him at first. 1 bowed —and only a Frenchman knows how to bow, “The Lorelei, to the German, senorita,” said 1. at last in control of myself, “is blonde because the German’s ideal is blonde: but the locks of the Lorelei of Picardy would be dark, and wavy—a deep brown with the faintest hint of twilight blue, like desert smoke.” “At last.” she cried '.brightly, “the sleeper wakes!" She turned to Cupido. “Senor Gascon, is this the man you told me about—is this the man whose wit is as keen and as agile as the sword he is reputed to be able to ply with such consummate skill; is this the darling of the courts of Vienna and of Paris?” “Ah. senorita.” 1 deprecated, “you are unkind; you blind me with the brilliance of divinity, then, while I am thus helpless, you give me a mortal thrust. Still, you do but make artful use of the weapons that God has given you—and. verily. He has favored you in rich abundance.” Now the amber eyes sought mine again, held for half a minute, and dropped to her lap, where slim white hands lay passive. “Tia mia," she said gently, to the duenna who sat beside her, “this is Senor Vigny, captain in the army of Maximilian.” The duenna looked down at me—looked down upon me from vast, illimitable heights. 1 bowed—and she looked away again. La Anita smiled a little. “Tia mia." said she in my own tongue, “has not the resiliency of youth.” “It is a golden thing," 1 answered, “and thrice blessed when beauty plays accompaniment.” She sobered suddenly. “The court of France, senor, has doubtless taught thee many things. Thy tongue—” “Ah, do not misjudge me, senorita; for each word of praise or’ compliment that escapes me there are a million others held in check.” She spoke to Cupido. who fumbled his cap with awkward fingers. “Were thy blade, Senor Mironsac. as deft as the tongue of Captain Vigny 1 should have lost a worthy cousin. You did not tell me the half." “He can tell It far better than 1,” said Cupido. grinning; “the practice has all been his.” Now the mention of her cousin brought back to me the object of my mission: to deliver his majesty’s sum mons and to cross swords with that precious cousin of hers. For the life

THE SYRACUSE JOURNAL. SYRACUSE. INDIANA

of me I could not ptctun- in..with the face of an angel dealing in murder. I could not imagine tier In any sort of intrigue, yet the evidence lay all against her. I steeled myself for an ordeal. “The Gascon merely jests, senorita.” said I; “that you and he should have spoken of me at all puts me deeply in your debt, a debt that 1 find myself ill prepared to repay, for I come to you on an official errand.” x “To me. senor?” “Aye, a message from his majesty; a summons.” Her face went white for an instant And the slim shoulders drooped. “What can the—rhe—what can Maximilian want with me?” she faltered. “Better that be should deliver it. senorita," encouraged Cupido. “than Lestrange. Lestrange would have gone to your bouse with a squad of soldiers, while Captain Francois— * She reached out a band for the summons, a hand that trembled a little. To have given It up there would have meant the loss of my rendezvous. “Should a message from his majesty, senorita. be delivered thus on a public thoroughfare?” The sweet eyes hardened and rhe tender, childish curves around her mouth took on an iron rigidity. Even the music went out of her voice: “Perhaps an alley would more fittingly meet the methods of your emperor.” “You have no reason, senorita. to love his majesty, for he has done you an evil turn, yet It seems—” “My father, captain.” she broke in passionately, “was a good patriot, and a man greatly beloved in Mexico. He had put no obstacle in the way of Maximilian, yet charges were brought against him, charges which could not. because of their inherent falsity, have been proved; but they found him guilty—and shot him. Must I love him for that?” “In any government,” said 1, “grievous wrongs are committed. I believe that his majesty does not approve—” “The popularity of Maximilian has been lost because of promiscuous executions.” she said. “If ambition had not blinded him he should have seen it long ago. He is done in Mexico, and when the great trial comes be will find the world against him. Some day. senor. Maximilian will face a firing squad.” “A thing beyond my powers of foresight” I answered. “I am serving him, and France; opinions are not for me. If I may be permitted to deliver this summons to you at your home —?” “Surely.” The smile she gave me had much In it besides a courteous acquiescence. I wondered if she were visualizing that duelist cousin of hers, and 1 hoped in my heart that she was. “If it Is your desire. Captain Vigny, you may come tonight.”

CHAPTER II The House of Arrellanos A boy opened the heavy Iron gate and directed me to a narrow, curving, graveled walk that led to the house. 1 swung the bronze knocker lustily, and the dark, sphinx-faced mozo let me in. If he recognized me he gave A Boy Opened the Heavy Iron Gate. no sign. He left me in the library, a huge, deeply carpeted chamber done in walnut, with a ceiling twenty feet high, and heavy purple hangings over the windows and the doorways. Books in magnificent walnut cases ranged the walls—l had time to note that they were Spanish and French and English—and portraits by early Spanish and Mexican artists looked down upon me. There was one. I remember, of Cortes, by Rodrigo de Cifuentes, and a virgin of .Juan de Rua, pupil of Velasquez. Several. I noted, copied the brilliant coloring of Titian, and one—a marvelous reproduction of the smoke-plumed crest of Popocatepetl—held me spellbound. While I studied this painting a murmur of voices came to me. One seemed vaguely familiar, and I moved toward a closed door behind which the sounds originated. Two men were talking, and although I could nor make out the sense of their words they spoke as men speak who know each other well. There was an understanding—a confidential note 1 heard the name of the emperor, followed by a laugh of gentle raillery? (TO BE CONTINUED.) Evangelistic Symbol* In the Fifth century the Four Beasts which had already been used as emblems of the Four Archangels and the Four Great Prophets were adopted as symbols of the Evangelists, i and two centuries later these curious creatures were universally employed as symbolic of these four saints. At first they were simply emblems of the Evangelists, but after St. Jerome wrote of the Vision of Ezekiel, each of beasts was assigned to a par* ticular saint. To St Matthew was givep the cherub, or winged human fgce; to St. Mark, the lion; to St. Luke, the ox; and to St John, the eagle.

NATION’S TRIBUTE, AT HOME AND ABROAD, TO THE BRAVE MEN WHO LAID DOWN THEIR LIVES WHEN DUTY CALLED

The cold rain tails on Dun-sur-Meuse tonight. My brothers of the Marne, do you fare well. Where, by the ford, or on some windswept height, You lie among the bamleits where you fell? Do you sleep well these wet spring nights. Where there is never any brushwood blaze. To cast within the dugout wavering lights. And warm the chill of these benumbing days? Romagne-sous-Montfaucon! The little towns That scatter from the Somme to the Moselle, Some silent sentry on their high-backed downs. Harks still to every far white church’s bell— The humble little church of misty hills. Set where the white roads cross, with ruined sane.

Tie au?

Where, through the window-gaps with warscarred sills, A battered Christ looks out into the rain. Sile-t. a'l si’ent to the passer-by. Those lonely mounds, or rows of crosses white. Beyond the need of bitter words they lie. But are they silent to their friends tonight? Can we stand whole before a crackling We, who have gone in peace a year and a year. Singing and jesting, working again for Deaf to the message they would have us hear ? Not whi'e the red of poppies in the wheat. Not while a silver bugle on the breeze. Not while the smell of leather in the heat. Bring us anew in spirit overseas.

WHERE ARMIES OF MEADE AND LEE GRAPPLED Visitor to Field of Gettysburg Finds It Hard to Conjure Up Satisfactory Picture of Long-Past Heroic Deeds That Stirred the World at the Time. 1875 a TIP. M„ July 3, 1563. the Con /\ federate batteries opened up / \ on Cemetery Ridge. For two hours the air was alive with shells. Then the cannonade lulled, and out of the woods crept the Confederate double battle line, over a mile long and preceded by a cloud of skir mishers. Steadily, with disciplined valor, as if on parade. Pickett’s men advanced to tlie charge. “The Federal batteries opened and a cannonade such as never before had been heard upon the continent fell upon them. A hundred guns tore great gaps in their ranks but still they pressed on. They rushed upon the Federal front and bayoneted the gunners at their guns. But tlie assault failed and whole companies rushed as prisoners into the Union lines.” • • • How the savage in the boy’s breast thrilled at ilie stirring recital! AU tlie insult visited upon the unfortunate McClellan ni the Seven Days’ battle. all the ignominy of Bull Run and Ball’s Bluff was wiped out in that fiercer baptism of hiood which spelled doom and downfall for the Confederacy At least 200.1 MM) men engaged on that stricken field! Twelve thousand stretched in death in the threeday battle! Nearly 28.1MM1 muskets picked up on the field after rhe fighting! Reveling in the consciousness of a well-earned victory, tire boy. born three years after Hie event, successfully missed the horror of it. O. A. Savage writes, in the Chicago Daily News. He had no more compunction about slaughter in itself than a Roman soldier or an Iroquois brave. His main regret was that he had not been present and leading a rharge. He made a mental note to visit the scene of carnage as soon as he could scrape up the train fare. 1910 “The farthest north I ever got." said the ex-Confederate adjutant, a physician of San Antonio, “was the Devil’s den at Gettysburg. I lay among the rocks for a day and a night, and then, just before we were ordered to fall back, a bullet came along and shattered my foot. The next fhing I knew I was put Into a wagon with other wounded, and I rode five days and nights during the retreat without a bite to eat or a drink of water. Then we stopped at a church, which was quickly converted into a hospital. It overflowed with wounded. “There was only one surgeon to operate, and he was a drunken brute. I lay on a board stretched over two pews, and he callously announced that he was going to amputate my leg. although my foot had been hurt. I raved

Soldier Dead of All Wars Remembered in the Ceremonies of Memorial Day

West of the Blue ridge and north of the Ohio they call it Decoration day. East of these blue hills it is Memorial day. East of them or west of them it is a day, regardless of its pleasurehunting holiday crowds, that has a shadow of solemnity over it. Dedicated to memories, it offers to the soldier dead of the nation some •nduring touch of immortality. He

Wt* w Mg nir 3U| t*§u.resn.es

While Stars oi Alsace light the Vosges at night. As long as Lorraine’s cross shines ta the sun. While moons on Bar-le-Duc send bombers’ light.

Or rain drives down the gray road to Verdun. So long shall we hear those we left behind. Where eddying smoke fell like a mountain wraith.

A < • JTjEg ■■. - * St '

and protested, but strong hands held jne down and some one pressed a sponge to my nostrils. As 1 still struggled. the surgeon bent over me with a knifp. I felt myself going and in a last despairing effort I raised my head and sank my teeth in his cheek and hung on till everything went black. When I came to I still lay on the board, but I had my leg. I saw the surgeon feeling around, seeking other victims. Just then the door opened and a general officer entered. He recognized me and 1 told him my story. He said nothing, but drawing his sword lie whaled the surgeon with the flat of it. drove him out and later had him cashiered.” There were details of that retreat which make even more unpleasant reading. They took some of the glamor out of that glorious victory, hut little Peterkin was not yet cured. The trip to Gettysburg, which had been unavoidably postponed for a few decades, still somehow seemed enticing. He had the money, hut there were other ways in which he could spend it to advantage. 1929 “So you want to see Gettysburg.” said a World-war officer in Washington. indulgently. “Curious ambition! A little antiquated, of course, still it’s interesting—historically. Might take a run up there by,auto. Not much of a battle, judged by modern standards. They didn’t know a, great deal about warfare. Any lesson you could draw from it would be valueless in these days of improved artillery. But don’t let me dissuade you, if you think you can get any fun out of it.” STATELY SHAFT A view ot the beautiful war memorial in Edgemont park. Upper Montclair, N. J. The shaft is of granite, while the statues on top and at the base are of bronze. At night this memorial is strikingly illuminated.

who rests under the green mound may be forgotten of men. His warfare is over. His battles may be no more than a dimming date or far-off echo of unhappier days. Wind and rain muy have worn his name from his gravestone even as Time has wiped iris memory from the minds of the living. Yet he is merged with all his sol-

And in the din, that left us deaf and blind. We sensed the uttered message clear—- “ Keep faith.” To every man a different meaning, yet— Faith to the thing that set him, at his best. Somethin- above the blood and dirt and wet. Something apart. May God forget the rest! Lest we forget! The months swing into years. Our souls are caught in trivial things again. We laugh at what we once beheld with tears. In pet*y strife we case our souls their pain. The ccl l rain fails in France! Ah. send anew The spirit that once flamed so high and bright. | When, by your graves, we bade you bravo adieu. When Taps blew so much more than just “Good night.” j CURTIS WHEELER. J First Division. —From the New York Times.

The boy that still remained in the man after half a century made up his mind to go. Four women w-n; with him. for what purpose he was unable to discover. There was no indication that any of them had previously heard of Gettysburg. But why do women do anything? A journey across Maryland, through historic Frederick and Emmetsburg, with the Blue ridge on the west, and thence into southern Pennsylvania! Presently monuments began to appear, springing up unexpectedly in the most incongruous places—beside wayside pumps, in plowed fields, at kitchen doors, beside! woodpiles. Like lonesome people wearing their Sunday best yi a week-day crowd 1 Then prosaic Gettysburg, busily tapping cash registers, reaping tangible reward for past misfortunes! It is easy jo visualize the town as it must have appeared when the ride of battle swept through and ar.mnd it. Little or nothing has been changed. Bullet holes in the buildings have been carefully preserved. An unkind thought that some new holes may have been added since is instantly banished ,as base and unworthy “of the friendly inhabitants. • • • Out to the battlefield I Oak Hill and Seminary’ Ridge! The names of heroes preserved in 'historic landmarks. Reynolds. McPherson. Hancock. Barlow! The Peach Orchard and the Wheatfield! Round Top ahd Little Round. Top! Willoughby Run and Shead’s Grove! The Devil’s Den and the Valley of the Shadow of Death! Monuments as thick as brigadiers or blackberries! Sergeant Crippon forever shaking his fist! Warren on his rock! Father Corby on his! Culp’s Hill and Cemetery RidgO! Disillusionment! Peach Orchard with the peach trees gone. Like any corner lot! Meade’s beadquarters looking like a small gas station! Th° scene of Pickett’s charge a stretch of flat field indistinguishable from the monotonous landscape past which your automobile rolls through any average countryside!- Not thus did the enthusiast envisage that mighty theater of conflict over which the contending armies struggled in blood and sweat. Only by shutting one’s eyes resolutely on the prosaic every-day scene could one call up an adequate vision of that titanic encounter, the long lines of gray moving to mutilation and death, the belching batteries, the riderless horses, the flashing bayonets, the smoke enshrouded field, the horror ami frenzy of close combat with cracking pistols and clubbed muskets, the hell that is battle and the Gethsemane that is defeat. One could lust as welt have conjured up the ilcture amid all the comforts of home. Obligation and Privilege For twenty-five years to come, so the statisticians tell us, there will be survivors of the Grand Army. That we should cherish them tenderly is an evident obligation as it is a high privilege. No one could ever meet death for his country without the hope of immortality.—Cicero.

dier comrades in the memory of his country. He is a part of a great past coming down through Bunker Hill and Brandywine, Lundy’s Lane and Chapultepec. Gettysburg and Shiloh, San Juan Hill and Manila Bay to the wheat fields of Soissons, to St Mihiel and the woods of the Argonne. Memorial day began in the North in memory of those who perished on southern battlefields. Now it belongs to the dead of all our wars, rhe graves it strews with flowers have written into our soil its record.