Charles City Republican intelligencer. [volume] (Charles City, Iowa) 1861-1864, 1863-09-03

speaks. A few rods from our cabin
was beautiful Mandrono, or strawber-
ry tree, and under it we dug his grave !;
one of the boys cut his name in the
bark, and the date of his th,-poor
Brig
He sleeps far away from the scenes of his chdood -
Far away from his home and his dear native shore
I'd like to stand by his grave again.
but its long stretch from old Tennes-
see. Ten days longer, amt it, before
we're mustered out ?" and there was a
strange expression on Bills hard fea-
lures. 0a5
That's all, was the exultant reply;
"whatll you do, go back to Califor-
MIA, or list again | believe you've
no parents 2"
l'll tell you tomorrow what I'll do
come, it's time for rations," and gath
ering up their blankets they went to
their tent.
| have read in Italian literature,
that at even-tide the wives and sweet
hearts of fishermen go down to the
shores of the Adriatic, and sing the
first verse of some beautiful hymn !;
should the notes reach the husband or
lover, he responds by the second verse,
and as the deep, musical bass is borne
over the blue waters, and the plashing
oars come nearer and nearer, the list
ener waves her handkerchief, and joy
fully catches up the strain.
Mrs. Worden, the afflicted moth
er, had for years sat nightly by the
shores of grief,-she had sent out anx-
ious yearnings,-deeps plaintive and
sorrow-laden sounds had mingled with
the waves unrest, but never an
answering sound had come back.
The following day John Harding
and Bill sat in their tent alone. al
told you yesterday" said the latter,
that I'd make known my plans. rll
preface them with little private his
tory. I an Charles j. HIrden those
afflicted parents are mine, and to-day 7
shall rrite a letter, addressing Bon 35,
Hitto,rn, r. T." and the rough, brave
soldier whose hard eyes were "un-
used to the melting mood" wept as
children sometimes weep. There was
a masterful energy in his voice and
manner, the purpose had been in his
heart before, but never fixed and deep
ly rooted until now. a. sa Ills
Harding looked at him with unbe-
lieving eyes Charles j. Worden,"
repeated he in slow, measured tones.
"That's my name," said Bill and
pocketing his handkerchief, he drew a
match across his sleeve and re-lit his
pipe.
"Nine years ago | left for sea voy-
age to California, and after eight
months sail we passed through the
Golden Gate for two or three years
| was like sea-bird, constantly on the
wing, or vessel driven by every
wind, but finally came to anchor and
met with pretty good success. Iwrote
two or three letters home, but after
ward found they had never reached the
Post-Office, and if any were written
me, never received them. Then /
looked forward to future day, when
should lay off with my rough mining
clothes my California habits, and 60
home, so the idea of correspondence
was dropped entirely Two years ago
| started on the overland route for the
East,-we were few miles this side
of the Rocky Mountain Pass, when a
half-dozen of us went into recruiting
office and took oath to fight for the
Stars and Stripes and we hare fought,
and all have fallen but myself ltmay
be that in behalf of those afflicted
parents protecting presence has
been thrown around me in the day OF
battle, and Bills voice trembled un-
der the weighty words, -" but they
shall soon rejoice--l will write home
to-day, and before two weeks, shall
be on my way to Rhode Island. That
wandering scrap of newspaper kept
me awake all night could only Ii.
ken it to the ghost of Banquo at Mac.
beth's feast.'
The nine days had passed the --th
- Regiment left the fields Of Tennes-
see for their various homes.
In a small brown house in Rhode
Island there arc evidences Of new life;
a quiet joy perfumes the very air, the
dishes in the open cupboard shine with
evident satisfaction the wide old fire.
place has look of welcome, the va.
cant chair is waiting for one long
| missed at home. The hours are full ol
love-prompted lahors. There is feel
ing of youth in the hearts Of the "aiilict.
ed parents and their time-worn faces
speak the language of gladness.
Mrs. Worden is combing the braie
of hair that covers her husbands bald
ness. 9. Unjust rig up Charles room,
she says. Il washed the curtains
last fall and laid 'em in the drawer
/ with sweet lavender leaves, Its years
since have looked in that room with
out feelin' as though | was lookin' int
a grave !; we must have some frcsl
cod in the cellar, father,-you know
Charlie alters sot great store by EN- :
Yes, I'll send for some afore h
gets here" replied the father.
And what child he was for straw
berry short-cake-Pll make one fo
supper the night he gets here, and II
bake turkey and have it cold"
Better get Miss Cole to fix you
turkey,-you'll be all beat out" Nh
Worden suggests.
i q wish you'd pick q basin OF goose
berries for pies, and I'll save some 7,
stew. I wonder if Charlie'N thinl
we've grown old much" as she put th'
finishing strokes on the gray hairs sh'
: had been arranging SO carefully 4
,, u'd be strange if we hadn't
Now hand me my cane, mother
; and I'll work spell in the garden
.sDig around the rose-bnshes Char
lie sot ont afore he went away wei
it amt often that folks see a brighte
! day than the one that's shiniR on US.
sNo,' and the old man looked bacl
/ ward over the long night, /" but it's
; day born of darkness"
! "That's true, Josiah, but don't cas-
I no reflections airthly parents ca
s learn Of their Father in Heaven-H