The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1863-06-02
s. THREE YEARS, OR TO THE
END OF THE WAR;
BY VIRGINIA r. TOWNSEND.

This boy OF whom / write reined up his
rocking horse suddenly, AMI looked in his
mothers face, with a question starting out of
bis large brown eyes, and widening and glow
ing all over bis face, child's face. brave
sweet, beautiful face, full Of promise and
propbeses.
"What is it, Theodorei" asked the lady
who VAS sewing by the window, and 1own
through her words there slipped the carcss
which was 10 her heart.
"How long are three years, mammal"
All, the child little guessed that all over
the land were hearts asking this question,
looking off to those three wears, whose long
path Of storm, and bloodshead, and death,
must be troddcu before we should reach the
promised land Of piece; before the loud thup-
der Of the tramp Of armies all over the
land, al d the red waving of banners, and the
awful Il under of cannon sounding its echoes
through thu hearts Of the sulleu mountains,
should all be hushed into that new psalm OF
peace, which we trust is yet TO rise and over
flow with it's golden tides the whole land and
seas thereof.
"Wby do you ask me that Theodore 7"
asked the mother, sitting in shower Of SUN
mer sunshine, half diluted by the creeper Of
honeysuckle that made red heat of bloom
about the window.
"Bpcause papa said he should be back in
three years that morning ,h't he left. He
took me right up 10 his arms by the door,
and bugged me so tight it hurt me and he.
SAID, Little fellow w-papa's bow Be very
good while papas gone-be'll be back in
three years or less Are they almost gone
now, mammal pushing away with one hand
the sheaf ot shining curls which drlited over
his forehead.
There we're many unshcd tears 10 the moth.
er's voice Is che answ cred.
"No, my dear chill, tho three years have
only commenced going now. 1t will he a
long, long time before they come to an end"
"But how ong!-as long as to last Christ
mas! That's great way of" with the
pretty impatience and imperousness Of child
hood.
ANY child" said the mother, and this
time the tears were 10 her eyes, 'three years
are so long time that cannot explain it TO
you. They are longer than you can remem-
Der; almost az long as your life has been i"
The boy looked very sober moment, drop
ping his bright head low over his horses
neck. Then he suddenly sprung from the
wooden animal and rushed to bis mothers
side.
"Theodore wants to see bis papa again"
cried the child, articulating the loss and want
be felt in his heart at that moment.
The mother took him up silently. That
simple ulterance was the one her heart car
ried, craving and lingering by day and by
nigbt-carred il in brave enduring silence,
and anguish, and yearning as woman must.
But, as said, the mother bent down auh
took her bov on her knee aud talked to him
as the wife ola true soldier should-with
sweetness and cheer in her words which gave
them new meanings. "Pa,a is gone off to
the war to do bis duty there as a brave man
and true patriot should. l. was very hard
for him TO leave mamma and his little bov (;
bot he'll carry them warm and close in hs
heart wherever he is, and We will pray God
morning and night to take good care Of papa,
aud bring him back to-us safely at last"
But what makes you cry, mammal for
the tears had oozed out of the young mothers
eyes, and lay like pearls on her fair checks as
she talkei.
She wiped them away softly, and made
her lips smile for the sake Of her child. at
makes mamma sad sometimes when she
thinks Of papa so fai otf-so long away. But
we'll comfort each other together, won't we
my boyp and she hugged him tight, and
kissed bis face all over with warm mothers
kisses. And the boy laughed and clutched
at the red vases Of boney-suckles; then, TOR
geiful Of bis momenta-y vague sensus Of loss
and pain, he darted off, mounted bis horse
agaip, and was soon absorbed in what he re.
garded as great equestrian achievement.
And the mother turned her face TO the
wind Wand bent over her sewing. and the
tears fell slowly on her bauds, and the sun
shine lay great golden laugh all about her.
And that same sunshine lay great golden
laugh all over the land in the middle Of the
last Of September. In the orchards, the
fruits bad at last yielded to the steadfast
wooipg Of the sun, and scarlet heats we're on
the apples, and the plums burned into royal
purple, and the peaches had the red wine Of
their bushes under transparent skins. The
frost had not lifted up its white hands among
the trees YET, and they stood up everywhere
10 the still, de p grecu Of the summer, aud
waited patiently,
And in those still, brooding days that We
ell rememder--those days which seemed, In