Percy assisted to unpack these boxes, soon finding himself amply
provided with underclothing and a nice jacket and pants of gray, also
a new blanket. He was pleased, but not yet quite satisfied, for the
jacket was simply gray. He wanted it trimmed with red.
It chanced that there was in one of the boxes a piece of red flannel.
With this I trimmed the suit under his careful supervision. I can
never forget how happy he was to get into this suit, or how he danced
around me, pretending to go through the artillery drill, and to load
and fire at imaginary Yankees.
Later, his cap was retrimmed, the letters and artillery badge
furbished up, and one beautiful day was made sad and gloomy to his
friends and myself by the departure of this brave, dear boy, to rejoin
his command.
Eager, bright, full of fire and ardor, the young soldier went to meet
his doom. He reached the front (where the company to which he belonged
was always to be found) shortly before the battle of Peach-tree Creek,
and here, his bright young face turned to the foe, his eager hands
serving his gun to the last, he met a soldier's death.
Alas! poor Percy, his fate seemed hard; yet, while sincerely grieving,
I remembered with some degree of comfort the fact that so he had
wished to die,--"Upon the field of glory.
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