Clearfield Republican. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1851-1937, 1860-09-12

| life. was like q plant which is kept
! from the light of day in q cellar, and
which can only be restored by warmth
and sunshine, and loving hands to tend
! it. As We ncarcd home, This longing grew
so intense that the least mention of home
set me quivering with emotion. | could
not sleep nor eat, notwithstanding my de-
sire to grow well and strong, so rs not
to shock my wife with the change in me-
/ My friend tried to calm me and talk of
our old comrades. | asked if he know
Carl Reimer, and had learned his fate lie
knew him well, and had been neighbor
at home and had seen him several times
in the engagement fighting bravely. He
was so reckless that it was not unlikely
that he had not escaped the fate Of many
who lay stretched upon the field that day.
Or, 1t might be that he was one Of the gay
and gallant troop that marched home af-
ter the battle, to gladden. the hearts that
had been weeping tears of blood in their
absence.
| still wore my wan wasted look when
we landed. ! had no money, and a long
march for ore so enfeebleI as | was, lay
before me. | cut a staff from the first oak
that | saw and threw myself on the grass
/ in the shadow OF some trees that protec,
! ted me from the sun and slept heavily
In that sleep | dreamed Of happy meet
ing with Blanche. Ny pillow of dried
| grass gave place to her bosom, the dews
that were falling on my face, were con-
nected by the magic of sleep into the
! tears and kisses Of my wife and child
That wa happy dream! l would fain
sleep to wake no more, if | could but
dream again When | rose up again, it
was almost night | felt sore and lame
from sleeping in the dew so long, and I
gladly accepted the offer Of cottager
who seeing my state, asked me to stay all
night under his roof Our brave soldiers
deserve to be welcomed, said the old man,
and when he pointed 10 the sword that
hung over the Fireplace, with black rib
| bon and soldiers cap hanging from its
bilt, knew that he must have lost
friend. 1T was my only SON. he said
weeping.
The dame showed me to poor but
clean chamber, where l stretched my wea-
ny limbs on a bed for the first time for a
long, long while. | slept but little, but
when l did, my afternoon dream came
Hitting back to me, and like an angel Wis.
liant, it brought hope and joy to bosom
so long weighed down with sorrow. The
next morning resumed my slow march
homeward-so slow that although not far
4 from our own village | was unable to walk
/ thither until night was fairly settius it,
/ Hoy tremOled as | went NJ the little
! slope that lei to our door. | had pur>
/ posely como by back road, 50 as not to
meet any one whom knew. could not
/ hear tidings OF my family from any pass.
ing stranger. Through the opening in
the vine leaves | saw a cheerful freight
shining brightly ard making great shad.
ows on the clean white vail. What If
Blanche were dead, and these were stran~
/ gers who sat by my hearthstoue? shud.
dered and turned sick. The window was
too high for me to see within the room,
and | staggered up to the door, and with
n wild and desperate wish to know the
worst, | opened inc door, and stood a poor,
weary and footsore stranger within my
own walls.
Blanche was there with baby in her
arms, sitting by the fire, and beside her
stood Carl Remer. So earnestly were
they talking, that they had not heard nv
quiet entrance. The baby was cooing out
its soft notes, and Blanche was singing the
same old melody that had heard so often
over little Carps cradle. She looked up to
Reimer's face with a sudden smile of fond
regard. Lingeringly, slowly came back
the bitter truth. Had it come faster. it
had been well, for then must have died
under the shock. | saw it all now. They
saw me too, and under the chan ges which
| had undergone, Blanche knew me. She
sprang UP with wild shrek and a face
that was blanched to marble whiteness.
Why DO we ever scek to describe such
moments? sat down, for | could not
stand, and there 10y the fitful freight they
told me how it all came about. Carl had
returned home with the troops and the
comrNde who marched next to him. told
him OF my death. lie had seen me, as
supposed by some, lying dead upon the
field IN the hottest of the combat. Carl
mourned like true friend, and was al so.
lutely unable for many days after his arri-
val to bear the tidings to Blanche. She
heard OF his return, and went leading her
little Carl to his house. There she became
sick, and was nursed kindly by his mother
but ere he recovered the boy was taken
sick and died. Afterwards she returned
to her desolate home ard lived a lonely
and dreary life for long time. Then
her rare beauty brought her many suit
ors, She turned from all, and would re
celye no one to her house. Even Carl
whom she called her brother, was only
admitted at long intervals, accompanied
by his mother or sister-for already had
town gossip joined their names together.
But, alter long time Carl spoke to her of
marriage lie did not ask her TO forget the
dead. Even then, he told her could her
| husband be brought to life, he would re-,
Jolce to give her up but as all was over
why should not they that incurred him
most deeply unite their two desolate
llyeS together? And Blanche listened,
ana weepngly consented, but not until
the second little Carl was born. did she
| ever smile as Of old. This Carl told me
WIN Ia, Tears Tears in his manly eyes, and with his
DrotheIIy arm around my neck. And
= then' altho' could see the words wrung
MS SO soui--he offered to take his boy and
| 90 far, far away from the sight OF our han
pincsS, and never intruda ~, 80. 80,