could not wear it,
and could only wear a plain one for service and keep this hanging in my
tent on the tent-pole. John Ring used to handle it adoringly, and kept
it polished to brilliancy.--It's dull enough these many years," he
added, somberly. "To Ring it represented not only his captain, but the
very glory and pomp of war.

"One day the Confederates suddenly stormed our position near New Berne
and swept through the camp, driving our entire force before them; and
all, including my company, retreated hurriedly across the river,
setting fire to a long wooden bridge as we went over. It soon blazed up
furiously, making a barrier that the Confederates could not pass.

"But, unknown to everybody, and unnoticed, John Ring had dashed back to
my tent. I think he was able to make his way back because he just looked
like a mere boy; but however that was, he got past the Confederates into
my tent and took down, from where it was hanging on the tent-pole, my
bright, gold-scabbarded sword.

"John Ring seized the sword that had long been so precious to him. He
dodged here and there, and actually managed to gain the bridge just
as it was beginning to blaze. He started across. The flames were every
moment getting fiercer, the smoke denser, and now and then, as he
crawled and staggered on, he leaned for a few seconds far over the edge
of the bridge in an effort to get air. Both sides saw him; both sides
watched his terrible progress, even while firing was fiercely kept up
from each side of the river. And then a Confederate officer--he was one
of General Pickett's officers--ran to the water's edge and waved a white
handkerchief and the firing ceased.

"'Tell that boy to come back here!' he cried. 'Tell him to come back
here and we will let him go free!'

"He called this out just as Ring was about to enter upon the worst part
of the bridge--the covered part, where there were top and bottom and
sides of blazing wood. The roar of the flames was so close to Ring that
he could not hear the calls from either side of the river, and he pushed
desperately on and disappeared in the covered part.

"There was dead silence except for the crackling of the fire. Not a man
cried out. All waited in hopeless expectancy. And then came a mighty
yell from Northerner and Southerner alike, for Johnnie came crawling
out of the end of the covered way--he had actually passed through that
frightful place--and his clothes were ablaze, and he toppled over
an