The Littlest Rebel

ng, waiting-not for a charge upon the enemy, or orders for a foray through an already harried land. They waited for a leader-a man who had led them through the heat and co

their eyes. And now the troopers waited-and for what? An order had come which put them on review, a long thin line of horsemen waiting on the

The eyes of the men turned slowly at the sight of a single rider who advanced from the distant Union camp. He did not take the dusty road w

ed. On his shoulders his straps had been replaced, and his saber ra

center of the waiting line, and the troopers knew that Li

nd rose in a joyous, swift salute, while Mor

on ...c

to speak; yet the voice was not the voice of an off

ed something in his throat and struggled manfully to spea

ous and uncontrolled, its echoes pulsing out across the hot, red fields till it reached the dist

is cheering line of men, silent, happy, while two tear

oomed him to disgrace and death; and then, one line from her baby l

through the woods ... and pu

ands-and had saved them both with a do

and haze. His coat, once gray, now hung in mud-stained tatters about his form, but beneat

gray coat, sat still another Rebel-the smallest of them all-her ti

ar is it to

ed his head an

line of hills? That's Richmond. A

ere like the ranks of the doomed Confederacy-its stalks erect, yet sapped of the juice of life. Where orchards once had f

d better make this Yankee horse get up a little? 'Cause

with a pat on her small, brown knee. "These lin

crippled gunboat lay, then clattered over the cobble stones up Main Street till they reached the Square. On the State House the Stars and Bars still floated; but the trav

ame down the steps and out of the iron gate. A word or two from Cary and the orderly disapp

her's hand, for now, as she neared her General, her little

ed. He sat there, at a table strewn with war maps and reports-

looking at the two with eyes that seemed to hold

ourier to the camp of General Grant below the city, asking a stay of sentence till the facts in the case

to his trusted scout, the hand of the Littlest Rebe

t her father's smiling face, "I've brought h

is lips were on a level with Virgie's lips; th

E

E

rolling drum.

n echo of its

lags, in mourni

eroes of a

s 'round rusti

nnants droop ag

warriors are

ons of the tr

m, ye voiceless,

through struggle

muffled boom o

he music of

ght do misty

hargers toss the

es gleam points o

umns flood the

sh! A shout tha

ary hill from

eashed lightning

tempest-rush o

cannon launch their

rash of musket

fening din of ho

arging o'er the

rush! The curs

shot and savage

arger stamps

ster in the

gued notes of

thunder back

sted waves the

oam, across the

es upon the dea

yes, gray lips t

olds his shot-t

essed against his

eroes, cease t

e behind the t

, like some lon

ealed in drops o

glory; but for

ttle-flags so s

hearts, that stil

past sleep wit

Heaven a pity

e the tongues of

fanned away the

ttle's roar. God

ea she swept ma

aurel for th

pe to hearts in

ips, in love, to

ripping sword; her

t, who scowled

and old standar

ast rocked wea

pinions wide fro

within the g

s ring their hol

thunders of

RD P