[Chapter XXVIII.]
On the Peninsula.
The scene between Captain Somers and his son was very affecting and very exciting; and if the soldiers had all been uncles and first cousins of the parties, they could not have manifested more interest on the joyous occasion. The father wept, and the son wept; for each, amid the terrible experience of these troublous times, had hardly expected to meet the other.
For several minutes they held each other by the hand, laughing and weeping alternately, and neither being able to express the intense emotions which agitated him. The men shouted and laughed in full sympathy with the reunited sire and son.
“I’m glad to see you, Tom,” said Captain Somers, as he wiped away the tears that were sliding down upon his grizzly beard. “I haven’t cried before for thirty years; I’m ashamed of it, Tom, but I can’t help it.”
“I didn’t expect to find you here, father, and clothed in the rebel uniform; but I’m glad to see you in any uniform,” replied the soldier boy.
“So you’re in the army, Tom,” continued the father, gazing with satisfaction at the neat appearance of the sergeant.
“Yes, sir; I enlisted within a fortnight after we heard that the traitors had bombarded Fort Sumter.”
“I see you’ve got three stripes on your arm.”