FREELAND TRIBUNE Establiihol 1833. PUIILIBIIBD EVERY MONDAY AND THURSDAY BY TIIB TRIBUNE PRINTING COMPANY, Limited Office: Main Stkeet above Centke. SUBSCRIPTION It A TPS: One Year $1.91 Six Months 75 Four Mont,lis 50 Two Months 25 The date which the subscription is paid to is on the address lutiel of each paper, the change of which to a subsequent date heoomes a receipt for remittance. Keep the tigurcs in advance of the present date. Report prompt ly to this office whenever paper is not received. Arrearages must be paid when subscription is discontinued. Make atl money orders, cheeks, etc., payable to the Tribune Printing Company, Limited. FREEHAND, PA., MAY 30, 1898. FORGET THEM NOT. In graves unnumbered and apart Some soldier boys lie North and South Who held their country's honor dear. Yea, even at the cannon's mouth. Go strew the flowers; send up the prayer; Honor the humble and the great— Save for the lonely brave the tears; Their graves we may not decorate. ~~ A MEMORIAL DAY INCIDENT. "It's not much I'll have to lay on Jamie's grave this year," said Nancy Brown, as she looked from her open door over the small yard; "only a few bunches of lilacs, and two peonies. That late frost almost spoiled the lilacs. But it's not so much the flow ers I'm thinking of as of the blot that still lies on my dear Jamie's name!" Dropping upon her knees the mo ther prayed. As Nancy Brown arose and went about her simple prepara tions for the next day's memorial ser vice a serene look lighted her plain face, a sweet peace filled her heart, for she had left her trouble with her Lord. Nearly twenty years had passed since this mother watched her boy as he went down the steep path before the house, and out through the little gate, to join the boys in blue. It all came back to her now. She could see again the lilacs that were bursting into blossom when he went away, and even hear the droning hum of the bees as her Jamie, so tall and handsome, turned just outside the gate, and flung a kiss to her, calling out, "Don't worry, mother dear. I may come back a captain, or a lieu tenant, and then how proud you will be of mei" Ah, the bitterness of that home coming who can tell! He came wound ed, emaciated, weary, only to linger a few weeks and then to die. And then, even before he was laid away came the rumor that James Brown was a deserter. People pitied the mother— but they clustered in little groups to whisper. "It Is well that the poor fellow died before it was known here," Nancy Brown overheard, and a great pain pierced her heart, never to be healed during all these long years. It was a dull morning, with a leaden sky overhead, when Mrs. Brown with her poor little flowers took her way to Jamie's grave. Others passed by her, some in line carriages, some on foot. She did not raise her head, but passed on down the road. Mrs. Brown was nearing "Jamie's corner," as she called it, when looking through a mist of tears she thought she saw a number of people standing about her son's grave. What could it mean? They had never noticed his grave that way before. And what was this slab that marked the grave, with the words, "James Brown, who gave his life for his country?" And who was the line looking man who stood beside it? What was he saying? "The James Brown who lies here was a brave, noble fellow. There was another James Brown in the same regiment who deserted. I know of what I speak, for I was the colonel of that regiment." Happy Mrs. Brown was led to the grave of Jamie by her pastor, while the colonel came forward to congratu late her on having been the mother of such a son. The grave was heaped with flowers; the mother could scarce ly And room to deposit her "lilacs and peonies" until the colonel stooped and made place for them, saying: "The mother's flowers shall rest above the heart of her boy." Then Nancy Brown knelt by the grave of her Jamie, and raising her eyes to heaven said: "I thank thee, O my Father, that Thou hast heard me; the stain is re moved; to thee shall he all the glory, both now and forever." It had been kept a secret from Mrs. Brown, when Col. Hamlin had visited his native state, and hearing of the stigma resting upon _ the boy's name, had fully cleared him. Then the neighbors planned to purchase the slab and cover Jamie's grave with flowers as a token of sympathy with the mother who had suffered so long. THE PHANTOM ARMY. ~ And I saw a phantom army come. With never a sound of fife or drum, But keeping stop to a muffled hum Of walling lamentation; The martyred heroes of Malvern Hill, Of Gettysburg and Chancellorsville— The men whose wasted bodies fill The patriot graves of the nation. And there came the unknown dead, the men Who died in fever-swamp and fen, The slowly starved of prison pen; And, marching beside the others, Came the dusky nartyrs of Pillow's fight, With limbs enfranchised and bearing bright, I thought—'twas thy pale moonlight— They looked as white as their broth ers. And so all night marched the nation's dead, With never a banner above them spread. No sign save the bare, uncovered head Of their silent, grim Reviewer; With never an arch but the vaulted sky, With not a flower, save those which lie On distant graves, for love could buy No gift that was purer or truer. So all night long moved the strange array; So all night long till the break of day I watched for one who had passed away With a reverent awe and wonder; Till a blue cap waved in the lengthen ing line, Till I knew that one who was kin of mine Had come, and I spoke—and 10, that sign Wakened me frota my slumber. —Bret Hart. A STORY FOR DKCORYTION DAY. ifij T was a sultry even ifiJßl ingin July, ISO:!, that ycalll Captain Poland and pljflji his squad of foot-sore f r?-. Sf soldiers readied the JuybsFJß" picturesque town of Hanover, near whiclt there had been a skir- VlW®l mlsh between Pleas anton's and Stuart's cavaly on the preced ing day. But a little distance from the village, not a hundred rods from the scene of the cavalry fight, stood an old-fashion ed farm-house, at the gate of which was a well of good, cold water supplied with a wooden pump and horse-trough. The tired, over-heated soldiers flocked around it to quench their thirst, and for fully a half hour the pump-handle was kept in constant motion. While Captain Roland was waiting patiently for his men to drink, his at tention was attracted to a sunburnt, gray-haired man leaning over the rude gate, watching the troops. "Good evening, sir," said the Cap tain, riding up to the gate and touch ing his hat in true military style. "It's rather hot weather, this, for march ing." "I 'spose it is stranger, though I never did anything at marching," was the old man's brief response. Just at that moment the Captain no ticed a new-made grave among a clump of rose bushes near the fence. "Whose grave is that?" he asked, pointing to the mound of fresh earth. "The grave of an enemy," replied the old man. "One that got killed in a 'scrimmage' the horsemen had here yesterday. They fought right over there in the woods where you see the leaves riddled and scorched. I buried him myself. They left him lyin' in the road just where he,fell. I could do no less, you know; that is a dooty some one will have to do for me some day." "Certainly, you did right, but why did you bury him in your rose garden? People do not usually make grave yards at their door." "Wa-al, it was the wimmen that wanted it so," replied the old man. "You see, stranger, I Isad a boy once myself. He went out with the Penn sylvania Reserves and* fought along with MeClellan, down among them Chica-ominy swamps. There was a fight, and then come a spell we did not hear from Johnny, and then one day we got a letter writ by a woman. She told us about a battle that had been fought near her house while she and her sister lay hid in the cellar all day. When the fight was over, them wimmen come out of their hiding place and found our Johnny lyin' dead in the grass, his hair all tangled ar.d clotted with his life-blood. There was no men about the place, so these two sisters dug a grave in the soft earth of their garden and buried our Johnny there, right amongst their posies, and then they writ and told us about it. So when I saw that poor fellow a-lyin' out In the road, all dead aaid bloody, I sed at once I would bury him, and the girls said, 'Yes, daddy, do bury him right among the roses; you know that Is what them Southern wimmen did for our Johnny.' That's/why I did it, stranger." The poor old father's, voice had been growing more and more husky while he spoke, and here it flailed altogether. "Did you find anything on the dead soldier by which he coulid be recog nised?" inquired the Capttxin. "Nothin' but this," and|nc pulled out of Ills pocket a small knife with an Ivory handle, tipon which were cut the Initials "R. L. C." "That may serve as a clue to un ravel the mystery or lead some aching heart to the resting place of a dear one some day In the future, perhaps after the cruel war is over," said the Captain, noting down in a little pass book the Information he had received. The old farmer watched the gallant Captain as he galloped away leaving a Utile cloud of dust behind him, and as he watched, tears came into his eyes again, thinking of the fate to which he might be hastening. After the war was over the old man and his girls kept the grave under the "Johnny lyin' dead." rose bushes in the best kind of order. After the 30th of May had bocn set apart for the purpose of keeping green the memory of the dead heroes, two wreaths were always laid side by side on the hillock in the yard—one for their own dead so far away and one for the friendless soldier who had died at their door. One Decoration Day, while the morn ing dew was still upon the flowers, a carriage drove up to the gate, and a gentleman and two ladies got out. Pausing a moment to lock art the grave almost hidden with flowers, they walked up to the porch where tho gray-haired farmer was reading. The gentleman introduced himself by ask ing if he remembered the incident which occurred at the well so many years before. The old man answered In the affirm ative, and then the stranger satd, "I am Captain Roland, the man to whom you related the story, and these two ladies are the sisters who dug- your Johnny's grave, and they have come all the way from Richmond to find out whether the grave you afterwards made under the rose bush was not for their only brother, who was losH. Have you the little pen-knife that bore the initials yet?" "Safe and sound, sir," and he at once went to bring the little relic, which he had taken from the dead soldier's pocket. The ladles recognized the knife as the property of their brother, Reed Lawrence Cramer, and the older one told a touching incident in connection with the way he had written his ini tials upon it. "Here is a lock of hair that I cut from the dead soldier's head," ruirl one of the old man's daughters, placing a little curl of raven black hair In the woman's hand. "Father did not know what I had done when he told the stranger that the knife was all the clew wc Ivtd by which to identify the soldier we had buried." "That is Reed's hair, I am sure," said the woman, touching it tenderly. "Ah, nty dear friend, money could not buy this little curl, for it is ail that is left of him to us on earth." "God is good," exclaimed the old man devoutly. "We simply buried a brother who fell at our door, not icnowin' that we were returnin' a kind ness to the folks who had cared for our own sunny-haired Johnny." "No doubt God's hand was in it." said Captain Rowland. "Your pathetic story on that scorching July day im pressed me deeply, and ten years later it was brought back to my mind by the sight of another grave among " They paused a moment to look at the grave almost bidden with flowers." flowers on- —Sou 'her* I went to see the owners of tflie fliwer garden, and, after relating what I had learned from you, and consulting my note book regarding the initla's on the knife found on the dead soilier, these friends concluded to make a ' Isit to the lonely grave at your door, and they have been led to the last res.lng place of their beloved dead." "There arc some bright sjots even In the dark history written by war, and while we have been *epuruted from our dear ones in their d f the ('ump Canteen—A Kiaht of Keiulnlneenccs. j Simply stated, the post campflre of to-day is intended as a medium through which to cement still more closely the bonds of friendship be j tween comrades who, having fought side by side in the ranks and preserved the Union, now, in the evening of life, meet to talk over the stirring scenes I of the war in which they participated. While there is a general rule of pro cedure, much variety of entertainment j characterizes the gatherings of the dif- j 1 ferent posts. Music, both vocal and | instrumental, is always a feature on j j such occasions. Story-telling and re- ! freshments are also included. Wives, daughters and granddaughters are wel- : corned, and women friends and rela- ( j tives of the post members. Unless a temporary chairman is | | chosen, the commander of the post | j presides at these social functions. A committee of arrangements prepares a I programme for the evening, and the I post rooms are decorated with "Old Glory" and implements of war. Im parting a military air to the apart ments. ; In some cases, if the rooms are spa | cious, army tents are erected and imi tation campflres are arranged, with a view to picturesque effect. Colored lights are used, and camp utensils are i strewn around. Hard tack, with cof ! fee, pork and beans, sandwiches and j | chowder are some of the delicacies ! which grace the mess table on special i fete days. ! Comrades from other posts are al j ways welcome, and are invited to take | J a dip out of the camp canteen. Jollity ! j prevails, and the veteruns break into i song. "The Flag of Our Unlou For -1 ever," "The Slar Spangled Banner," | "Tramp! Tramp! Tramp!" "Marching J Through Georgia" and "Sweet Band of i Liberty" are the popular favorites. A GRAND ARMY CAMPFIRE GATHERING One particularly popular song is the "G. A. H. Button," composed by Com rade W. W. Bailey, and sung to the air of "The Old Oaken Bucket," the words of which are as follows: How dear to each comrade that little bronze token We hail as we wander In regions afar; The symbol of friendship and ties still unbroken, A beaconing light as of Bethlehem's star! That tiny brown button, thaf oxi dized button, That one precious button, that gleams as a star; Our glorious button, victorious button, Earth's noblest adornment tried veter ans wear. Another equally popular refrain is "The Capture of the Pig," arranged to the air of "Pop Goes the Weasel." When some especially catchy air is started, ail of the veterans jump to their feet and march in single file around the room. Not all of them, however, can join in these simple evo lutions, for many a limb is missing and a crutch takes the place, so that the owner stumps away in the rear, or sits idly by, smiling at the antics of his fellows. Entertainers are at a premium while the camp tires burn, and recitations are not confined to tales of the war. Every good point is appreciated by the audi tors, and the performer is rewarded by liberal applause. When women are present, Comrade Reddlngton's "I'm the Daughter of a Soldier" is usually sung. After a while cakes and ale are served, and "Army Heun No. 1" Is sung to the tune ot "The Sweet Bye and Bye." As the night goes on the old boys grow more reminiscent in their talk. Pipes and cigars are in great demand and little groups congregate in various sequestered corners and talk over Me morial Day or the last post celebration. Another theme of melancholy interest is the ever-increasing death list, and the virtues of the dead comrade are discussed. At the usual hour "taps" are sound ed by either a bugle or cornet. If neither of these instruments is avail able, a muffied drum is used and the ceremonies are ended, WOMEN SOLDIERS. One Girl Served Four Ycam Daring; the Civil Wnr. Many stories are told of women who served as soldiers during the civil war —but records of the department at Washington arc silent concerning most of them. There are two ca6es well au thenticated, and only two, of women commissioned by the Government who served disguised as men. In Company F. Second Michigan, there enlisted, at Flint, Franklin Thompson (or Frank, as usually called), age twenty, ascertained after ward and about the time "he" left the regiment to have been a female, and A FK.V.U.K 501.1,1F,1t. a good looking one at that. She suc ceeded in concealing her sex most ad mirably, serving in various campaigns and battles of the regiment as a sol dier. She remained with her command until April, 1863, when, it is supposed, she apprehended a disclosure of her sex, and deserted. Such in brief is the history which it attached to the record of Sarah E. E. Seelye, born Edmonds, in the War Department. She shared all the trials and priva tions which befell her regiment; par ticipated in the first battle of Bull Run; followed McClellan through the Peninsular campaign, and was never absent from duty while wearing the blue. While Yorktown was besieged she carried the mall on horseback tor the brigade from Fortess Monroe —let- ters, papers and packages, averaging from two to three bushels each trip— the distance being about twenty-five or thirty miles. Owing to the condition ot the roads, she was often compelled to spend the nights along the roadside. At one place she was ordered to secure some stores from a farm-house, and while there was caught between two fires, the enemy opening up and her comrades responding. She secured the provisions, though, and returned unhurt. About the middle of March, 1863, she accompanied her company to Ken tucky. Here she was debilitated by the chills and fever. She applied for a furlough, hut it was refused, and. fearing that her sex might be discov ered, she deserted. Civil life had too few attractions for her, and soon after she returned to hospital duty under the auspices of the Christian Commission at Harper's Ferry. She remained in the Department of the Cumberland during the remainder of the war. That she was able to so long hide the secret of her sex has been to soldiers a great wonder. The second authentic case on the records is not so interesting. The hero ine was only able to remain in the service sixteen weeks. Her sex was then discovered, she was sent to the hospital, and as soon as cured sent home. She enlisted under the name of Charles 'Freeman. When discovered she refused to give her correct name, and she left the hospital a mystery. "Where Heroes Sleep. General Sheridan's body lies on the grassy slope in front of the old man sion at Arlington, with a dignified and imposing monument, and his widow w;ill he buried there also. At the other end of the lawn, in a corresponding po sition, lies Admiral Porter, of the Navy, and his widow will have a place at his side. From their tombs is of fered one of the most beautiful pros pects in the world, across the Potomac, including the whole city of Washing ton, from the Naval Observatory to the Arsenal, with the Capitol In the center, and a clear, open vista to the dome, which is considered the most noble and Impressive example of modern archi tecture. §e petted Questions Does your urine contain any sediment ? Is the lower part of your back sore, weak and lame ? Docs your urine have a whitish, milky color ? Is there a smarting or scalding sensation in passing it ? Docs it pain you to hold it?* Do you desire to urinate often, especially at night ? If you have any of theso symptoms, your Kidneys are diseased and your life in danger. Mere people die of such disorders than are Dr. David Kennedy's Favorite Remedy is a rect and sure cure. It goes straight to the seat of senses in the Kidneys, 131addcr and Blood. It hunts t and drives from the system all the impurities that s;? cause pain in the buck, Stone in the Bladder, Bright's Disease, Urinary Troubles, and dis s eases of the Stomach and Liver. It acts at once. There is no long waiting to see if it will =f "For years I suffered with my Kidneys," writes THOMAS QUACKENBUSH, of Pittsfield, Mass. " The pain in my back was so severe at fli times that I was obliged to keep to my bed. I suffered awfully when passing water, which / was often discolored with blood. I tried almost everything in the shape of medicine, but nothing seemed to help me. One day I got a bottle of Dr. David Kennedy's Favorite Remedy and used it but a little while when it braced me right up. My me all right, no pain at all; my water cleared up and om me without pain, and I grew better in every way. it a great medicine, as it has done wonders for me. ises it for female complaint, and thinks it's the finest ' „ medicine in the world." SampSo EiottSts frac. Every man and woman who reads this paper and is in need of medicine, is invited to send full postoffice address for a free trial bottle of Favorite Remedy to the DR. DAVID KENNEDY CORPORATION, Rondout, N. Y. Our offer is genuine, and the fact that it appears in this paper is a guarantee that the trial bottle will be sent prepaid. Don't delay in writing, and mention tin's paper. A large bottle costs SI.OO at all drug stores. Olde.nt War Veteran. In St. Louts lives the oldest veteran in the world, Capt. Jack Haync3. He is 110 years of age. In the war I of 1812 he won distinction and his | title. He is—poor, old war horse —an | CAI'TAIN* JACK IIAYNEK. inmate of the Memorial Homo for Vet- J erans in St, Lo u1 s. Through his double glasses he peered closely at the pages | of the papers containing the tales from j the scene of the Maine wreck. His ■ hand, tremulous with age at best, shakes more with anger. He hobbles about on his stick with the unquench able fire of patriotism and of battle love brightening his old eyes and (lushing his old face. He is a type that is fast disappearing; an old man, but a patriot still. SIOO Howard, SIOO. The readers of this paper will bo [.leased to learn that there is at least one dreaded disease that science has been able to cure in all its stages and that is catarrh. Hall's catarrh cure is the onlv positive euro now known to the medical fraternity. Catarrh being a constitu tional disease requires a constitutional treatment. Hall's Catarrh Cure is taken internally, acting diroctly upon the blood and mucous surfaces of the system, thereby destroying the foundation i. 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