eyes had discovered that the rest of the house was in even worse condition than this parlor which by the way miss ward considered quite a grand apartment she had been down near the coast trying to teach school and there the desolation was far greater than here both armies having passed back and forward over the ground out and the torch at work more than once will there ever come a change for the better thought the keeper as he walked homeward what an enormous stone has got to be rolled up hill but at least john you need not go to work at it you are not called upon to lend your shoulder none the less however did he call out pomp that very afternoon and sternly teach him e and f using the smooth white sand for a and a stick for chalk pomp s was a government hanging on the wall of the it read as follows � in this repose the remains of fourteen thousand three hundred and twenty one united states soldiers tell me not in mournful numbers life is but an empty dream for the soul is dead that and things are not what they seem life is real life is earnest and the grave is not its goal dust thou art to dust was not spoken of the by j ig the only known instance of the government s to poetry the keeper had thought when he first read this it was placed there for the instruction and of visitors but no visitors coming he took the liberty of using it as a for pomp the large letters served the purpose admirably and pomp learned the entire quotation what he thought of it has not miss ward came over daily to see her cousin at first she brought him and various from her own kitchen � the once the dining room where the soldier had taken refuge after his last dismissal from hospital but the keeper s were richer and free from the taint of smoke his martial laws of neatness even old pomp dared not and the sick man soon learned the difference he thanked the girl who came bringing the dishes over carefully in her own hands and then when she was gone he sent them away by chance miss ward learned this and wept bitter tears over it she continued to come but her poor little and she brought no more one morning in may the keeper was working near the when his eyes fell upon a procession coming down tlie road which led from the town and turning toward the no one ever came that way what could it mean it drew near entered the gate and showed itself to be walking two and two � old and young men and girls and even little children all dressed in their best a very poor best sometimes gravely ludicrous of or sometimes mere rags bravely patched together and adorned with a strip of black or of black ribbon not one was without a of mourning all carried flowers common blossoms from the little gardens behind the that stretched around the town on the outskirts � the new forlorn with their chimneys of piled stones and ragged patches of com each little had his and marched solemnly along rolling his eyes around but without even the beginning of a smile while the elders moved forward with gravity the irrepressible of the negro subdued by the new bom dignity of the memorial day thought the keeper i had forgotten it will you do us de to take de head ob de said the leader with a bow now the by l i keeper had not much sympathy with the of flowers north or south he had seen the beautiful ceremony more than once turned into a political demonstration here however in this small isolated interior town there was nothing of that kind the whole population of white faces laid their roses and wept true tears on the graves of their lost ones in the village churchyard when the southern memorial day came round and just as naturally the whole population of black faces went out to the national with their flowers on the day when throughout the north spring blossoms were laid on the graves of the soldiers from the little village to the stretching ranks of from to the far western burial places of san the keeper joined the procession and led the way to the parade ground as they approached the the leader began singing and all joined swing low sweet chariot sang the and their hymn rose and fell with strange sweet harmony � one of those wild which the north heard with surprise and when after the war bands of singers came to their cities and sang the songs of slavery in order to gain for their children the education swing low sweet chariot sang the and two by two they passed along the graves with flowers till all the g een was dotted with color it was a pathetic sight to see some of the old men and women ignorant field hands bent and past the possibility of education even in its simplest forms carefully placing their poor flowers to the best advantage they knew dimly that the men who lay beneath those had done something wonderful for them and for their children and so they came bringing their blossoms with little intelligence but with much love the ceremony over they retired as he turned the keeper caught a glimpse of miss ward s face at the window hope we s not too free said the leader as the procession with many a bow and scrape took leave but we s de day now two years you came and we s de en to keep it the keeper returned to the cottage not a white face he said certainly not replied miss ward i know some 