Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1861-08-08
Ghoite Mistellaup.
THE SOLDIERS SISTER.
BY 8. ANNIE FROST.

urulni WHICH IOr the last nOur mas nlleQ tht
street, grows fainter, as the soldiers follow
it, leading them to the depot, from which
they start to defend their country's flag. =
Brave men, who takes thus your lives il
your hands, at the call of country, ready t.
lay it down, ifneed be, God protect you
Several years ago, not so many but that
even young people remember the time, the
same call. love of country, and the desire to
assert and defend her rights, took brave
men from our city, southwark too, to Mex.
leo, and then, ah, then, was not calmly
writing at my window, but with heart full
OF weary sore trouble, l, too, prepared to
leave my home to follow the soldiers. 1t is
story that in these stirring times may not
prove uninteresting, so, though l am an
old.fashloned woman, and no great writer,
will tell it:
Twas not an old woman, some twenty-six
or eight years old, when my only sister,
Mary Curtis, died, and left me two little
children for her legacy, Their father died
before the babies, twin boy and girl, were
born, and SO they came to me, dependent,
not for worldly goods, for Horace Curtis
died a rich man, but for love and care,
were bright, pretty little things, between sew
in their mourning dresses to my city home,
from the pretty country-seat where had
closed their mothers eyes upon them and
all earthly things, forever.
When the children were sixteen Horace
was admitted to West Point. From his
early childhood this had been the strong de-
sire of his heart. A soldiers life though he
knew much of its hardships, had ever been
before his Imagination as the one, above all
others to be chosen. Strong, healthy, and
active the children had always been, and it
was hard to say which was the strongest
Horaces desire to be soldier, or Nellie $
wish to see him become one. had never
approved ofmaking women the timid, help
less creatures they are only too apt to be-
come, so | allowed the fearless little girl to
join her brother in his sports and studies,
trusting to his chivalrous, loving heart 10
keep her from harm, too, that while she
grew hardy, fearless, and active, from his in
tluence, her presence made him gentleman
y and polite, above most boys. Their lives
seemed knit, bound together; the first morn.
ing greeting, the last evening kiss of each
was for the other. Walking to school to-
gether, to part only at the door, they met
gladly again, for the home walk. In the
summer spent at the country-seat which
formed a part of their inheritance, he taught
her to ride on horseback, to shoot at mark
with pistol or gun, to walk miles without
fatigue, and she, in turn, taught him to sing
with her, and coaxed him one winter to
learn to play ON the violin, that he might
not beidle while her fingers drew music from
the piano. At first he shrugged his shoul-
ders and declared it a bore but soon he
began to enjoy, as much as herself, these tune
full duets. With perfect love, perfect conf
dence and trust, each in the other, they
seemed to have but one heart and one mind
between them. The physical resemblance
was perfect. The same large hazel eyes,
fresh, fair compilations, straight noses, and
to an inch the same height, the only differ
ence that struck the observer was that Mel
lies curls were long and floating, while Hor-
aces clustered in short, thick punches about
his forehead, both being of warm chestnut
color.
They were, as said sixteen, when Hor.
ace went to West Point, but this was Their
first separation. Sadly, YEARLY and fearful
ly Nellie dragged about the house. Hel
song was hushed she did not care to ride
practice or read, and though always loving
to her 'auntie,' as they always called me, ]
found it almost impossible to win a smile OF
look of interest from her.
"Nellie |"
We were sitting together, one bright day
sewing. The work had fallen from my dar
ling shands, and she was musing, with droop
ing head, and sad longing eyes. She looked
up as | spoke.
"Nellie, what troubles you?''
80, auntie, miss Horace SO much"
No words can describe the sadness in tn,
child's voice.
"But, Nellie, you must begin to learn t,
live without Horace. Remember, dear, tha
he is man who must, especially in sol
dier's life, be away from home continually
You cannot follow him from camp to camp.
I'D like to, auntie."
mo doubt, but"
"Auntie, let's go to West Point. w,
can board somewhere near the Academy. =
| never thought of it till you mentioned
following my brother"
The color was flushing her cheek, tn,
light dancing in her eyes, as they had no
done since the last convulsive embrace sh,
had given that brother.
"We can go. Say yes, auntie. Oh, it il
like tearing the heart from the bosom t,
part Horace and l. F"
For an hour she pleaded with me, an,
then--for truly, pined tor the boy, too
consented to Co. and for the term of Hor
ace studies at the military school boarde,
IAk -. Al<nA1 l. i s-la A