"
That Memorial Day address! How was a distraught young clergyman to
think of material for such an address when he was held captive at the
bedside of a little soldier fighting for his life?
It was the fourth day before anxiety began to lessen its grip; the
fifth, the sixth, before Doctor Wendell would begin to speak
confidently. Through it all the words of the "Charge" beat in Arthur
Thorndyke's brain till it seemed to him that if David died he should
never hear anything else. For they were constantly on the boy's lips.
Finally, on the morning of Saturday, Arthur said to David: "Major, this
is the day for you to say the last lines. You know this afternoon the
'Six Hundred' are going by. You'll hear the band play, and Uncle Chester
and Uncle Stephen will be marching in the ranks. Stuart and I will be
there, too, somewhere, and I think if we can just prop you up a little
bit you'll be able to see at least the heads of the men. And you can
salute, you know, even if they can't see you."
"After the procession are you going to speak to them?" asked David.
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