Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1864-08-25

on the platform of the lightning train, mar
7eled at the shadow that lay upon the Cap
tain's stern, set face.
Kate Eytinge was "receiving" in sky blue
silk and sapphires-'' receiving" the gay
world Of her acquaintance as joyously as if
no pail stretched its black darkness over the
country's horizon. And Captain Vivian stood
in the recess of a superb bay-window whose
blossomed myrtles made sort Of green wall
to exclude the crowd beyond, and surveyed
the swaying multitude with bitter curve to
his lip.
" Ills looks like keeping the pledge" he
said, scornfully, as Byiagton came up to look
for dropped fan.
q told you So" said the young man, shrug
ging his shoulders.
Captain Vivian looked toward the door
he was tall enough to insure pretty favora-
BILE prospectus Olive Byington hoated in,
the rich folds of her maize. colored silk rip
ping over the carpet like sunshine, while the
point-lace shawl that dropped from her per-
fectlv moulded shoulders was clasped with
the golden sparkle of superb Oriental topaz
Walter Vivian gave but one glance, and
then turned away with feeling very like
disgust at his heart.
Suddenly a familiar appelation struck Oh
his ear, sending the hot blood in a torrent TO
his SunDurnt 1OFenead.
sit Is Clara Meade, with Miss Byington.
But what is she wearing? Pale-blue silk"
No; it looks like grenadine, and yet it
isn't. What can it be? India crape?"
Fiddlestick!" said plain Mrs. Vaudeville
"Don't you see it's blue calico, with little
white check all over it? Now THAT'S what |
call good common sense"
The .beau monde, gorgeous in MORE an
mr. Obi 11Dn rrlnn ar loI
and silent as Clara Meade quietly moved up
the long room on her fathers arm Calico !
And at a ful-dress reception Why, who
ever heard of such thing?
And then came a murmur of scarcely-re-
pressed admiration-a spontaneous tribute of
applause to the girls simple beauty. Clara
Meade had triumphed over Mrs. Grundy,
Madam Greenback, and Company
For she looked strangely lovely in the
pale blue dress, with its delicate edging of
lace at throat and wrists, and the creamy
water-Iily twisted in her shining brown curls,
dream of the Lotus Isles. Nojewel spark
ed On her breast, only a knot of waxed lily
buds; yet all the pearls Of the East could
not have improved that spray of graceful
buds
"Calico, eh?" laughed Kate Eytinge,
archly surveying her friend 81 see you
have enrolled your name on the Pledge"
81 have" said Clara, calmly " and | in
tend to observe it's regulations"
As she turned away, her hand was drawn
lightly within an arm that trembled slightly
in its Herculean strength. She looked up,
with a sudden blush, through which there
glowed the sunbeam of a radiant smile.
"Captain Vivian "
"Cara, pardon me; but | have only this
evening to stay with You, and have so much
to say"
Martin Ellington would not have thought
the young officers eye stern could he have
seen the tender brightness that iliumines the
dark irids nor. And Clara's glance fell be-
meath it, as you sometimes shrink from the
welcome intensity Of the gentlest sunshine
6 scarcely know how to thank you for
this" he said, inclining his head toward the
folds of her azure dress; "but it is surety
to me that your heart is in our cause
T! 1t has given me new hope and strength
Clara"
He stopped to pick up the bunch of lily
buds that had fallen from her bosom.
q should like to keep these, Clara"
"Keep them, Captain Vivian"
He gave them back to her silently. She
looked up in timid surprise, half fearing that
she had unwittingly offended him.
me something else with them, Clara"
Something else ?" she repeated, wonder
ingly.
"Your heart, dearest"
She looked downward, rosy as an eglantine,
and then gathered up the cream-tinted buds
and laid them gently in his hand.
So Walter Vivian proposed and was ac-
cepted, and the moving crowd Of fashionabIes
around him had not the slightest idea of what
was going on. And Clara is to be married in
the Identical blue calico dress-at least so
Captain Vivian DEGREES it, and husbands-elec
generally get their own way in such matters
And the rousseau, greatly to Olive Byington's
horror is to be Of " domestic manufacture"
throughout.
cit will be so outre," sighed Olive, "and
yeti don't know---if signing the Pledge
would get me half such splendid husband
as Clara has won I'd go into calico for the
rest of my days!"
"WHAT A DIRTY SET THEY ARE ."-There
mistaking the tones. The words were
scorntuily -alnsost bitterly-spoken, and the
speaker pressed the skirts of her costly dress
close to her person so as to escape the touch
of " the boys in blue" Tone, look, and man
ner could not have expressed more, had eaah
soldier as he tramped YEARLY by, been the
embodiment of infection. We were anger
ed at first, and then grew sad as re looked
upon the beautiful and richly arrayed speak
er. Such was not the type of womanhood
which gave us the fathers, husbands, broth
ers, sons, and lovers who trod the wilderness
OF carnage for seven long years that their
children might enter into and possess the
land of Freedom. She was fair to look upon.
but we turned from her with pity and loath-
ing With life would end her history Like
the worthless bauble that she was, she would
be forgotten when the Sightingales of our
hospitals and the mothers of our Gracchi
stall live in the scripture of Fame. The
costly pin that rose and fell upon her indig-
nant bosom, was mockery by the side of
the broken plumes of the cavalrymen from
the war. And, as We turned from her cost
ly trappings to the worn and faded ones
| Of the troopers, each of the latter
grew into knight of more than king
| ly mien, and the begrimed blue was touched
with the kindling halo of the glory of hero
| ism. They were the weary, worn, soiled
| children of the Republic, scanned in conflict,
| bronzed in battle glare; the fragments of
| history whose chapters shall record the high
est and holiest sacrifices of heroic devotion
| and patriotic martyrdom: "Dirtv set "
God forgive the unworthy daughter of per
| lied Republic. We could have kissed each
Swarthy cheek, and with brow reyerentlv
| bowed in their iron hardened palms, wept our
| gratitude for what they had suffered. The
blue 1cos soiled-dirty call it, but it was soil
ed in the camp, the march, the battle, the
long night-watch, the breach and the bivou-
ack, They were on their way HON, to spend
a month, all too brief with loved ones, and
then again to follow the old standard to the
music of musketry and cannon. Dirty now,
madam, but soon to cast their faded gear,
and hurst into the beauty of yestllras which