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

it. AS we neared 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 we'll and strong, so as not
70 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. He
knew him we'll, and had been neighbor
at home and had seen him several :ip,e,
in the engagement, fighting bravely. He
was so reckless that it was not unlikely
that he had not escaped the fate of mant
who lay stretched upon the field that day.
Or, 1t might be that he was one of the cav
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 long
march for one SO enfeeblei as l was, lay
before me. l cut 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 a 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 would fain
sleep to wake no more, if could but
dream again. When l rose up again, it
was almost night. felt sore and lame
from sleeping in The dew so long, and
gladly accepted the offer of a cottager,
who seeing my state, asked me 10 stay all
night under his roof. Our brave soldiers
deserve to be welcomed, said the old man,
and when he pointed to the sword that
hung over the Fireplace, with black rib,
bon and soldiers cap hanging from It's
hilt, | knew that he must have lost
friend. 1T was my only son p he said
weeping.
| The dame showed me to a poor but
clean chamber, where | stretched my wea-
ry limbs okR bed for the first time for
long, long While. | slept but little, but
when 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
home ward-so slow that although not far
frotn our own village was unable to walk
thither until night was fairly setting it.
How ] trembled as | went up the little
slope that lei to our door. had pur.
posely come by hack road, so as not to
meet any one whom knew, | could not
hear tidlngs OF my family from any pass.
ing stranger. Through the opening in
the vine leaves saw cheerful freight
shining brightly and making great shad.
ows on the clean white wall. What if
Blanche were dead, and these were stran-
gers who sat by my hearthstoue?I 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
wild and desperate wish to know the
worst, opened the door, and s TODD poor,
weary and foctsore stranger within my
own walls.
Blanche was there with baby in her
arms, sitting by the fire, and beside her
stood Carl Reimerl So earnestly were
they talking, that they had not heard NV
quiet entrance. The baby was cooling out
its soft notes, and Blanche was singing the
same old melody that had heard so often
over little Carl's cradle. She looked up to
Relmer's face with sudden smile of fond
regard. Lingeringly, slowly came back
the bitter truth. Had it come faster, IL
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 whteness.
Why do we ever seek to describe such
moments sat down, for l could not
stand, and there by the fitful freight they
told me how it all came about. Carl had
returned home with the troops and the
comrade who marched next to him told
him OF my death. He 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 orri.
val to bear the tidings to Blanche. She
neard OF ms return, and went leading her
niue Carl TO his house. There she became
SICK, and was nursed kindly by his mother
out ere ne recovered the boy was taken
SICK and died. Afterwards she returned
10 ner 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
ceive no one to her house. Even Carl
whom she called her brother, was only
admitted at long intervals, accompanied
oy his mother or sister--for already had
town gossip joined their names together.
But, attera long time Carl spoke to her of
marriage. He did not ask her TO forget the
dead. Even then, he told her could her
husband be brought to life, he would re.
Joice to give her up: but as all was over
why should not they that mourred him
most deeply, unite their two desolate
lives together2 And Blanche listened,
and weepingly consented, but not until
the second little Carl was born, did she
ever smile as of old. This Carl told me
with tears in his manly eyes, and with his
brotherly arm around my neck. And
then, altho' could see the words wrune
his soul--he offered TO take his boy and
go far, far away from the sight OF our hap
piness, and never intrude or us again.
Blanche sat with quivering lips and
~ FtNl l. 4