Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1865-06-21
THE SOLDIER-BRIDE.


excited guests-were made to serve the puI
| pose of vase. The long table with its snowy
cloth, the side board, and the parlor orna
mental-plece, bore score of their fra
grant ornaments yet queen above them all
was the pure white boquet of syringas and
white thorn blossoms that lay upon the dres-
ing table in one of the neatest little boudoirs
in New England
| What a stir what a tumult what a run
ming here and there what a pattering OF
! slppered feet up and down the stairs what
flying of nimble fingers among bits of rib
bon and carleton and illusion And why not?
Sweet Lucy, the only surviving child of the
| Widow, was that morning TO marry Capt.
| Edward Burnett, a young and. handsome of
| ticer, who had already distinguished himself
in the Union service.
| Lucy is not handsome but very pure and
| lovely in her bridal dress of pearl white
gauzy texture, looped up here and there
with boquets Of the fragrant syringa; while
among her golden curls peep out the white
violet and moss rosebud just opening Its
| petals to the light
And Lucy looked dreamily happy that
morning, yet astonishingly indifferent-so
that the bridemaids protested-to her own
| personal appearance. She had not once
raised her eyes to the mirror before which
| they were turning her from one side to another
as If she were but moving wax figure,
| placed there to show to advantage the
gauze and laces with which they were adorn-
| ing her
A light rap is heard at the door.
This is Edward-let him come in, said
| Lucy, the Gghtest perceptible flush mounting
! her cheeks at the well known sound.
''Oh no, no!' chimed in half dozen
voices mot till this loop of ribbonis fastened
and the veil properly adjusted.
| But Edward did come in, though he paus-
ed for moment on the threshold to con-
| template the loveliness of the group. The
| next instant he was by Lucys side, rump
! ling veil, tissues, ribbon, and flowers in one
confused mass as he caught her in his arms
and pressed his lips to her now burning
cheeks
Goodness me y ',Oh my ~ 'sDid you
ever p THE bear - The Hottentot ; to
swallow her at a mouth full" and various
other exclamations of disgust escaped the
group of bridcmaids, who looked with dismay
on the havoc the sunburnt but still hand
some captain was making of the bridal finery
Of their pet Lucy.
Il beg pardon, ladies, but / couldn' resist
the temptation, - said Edward there, Lu-
cy, shake yourself, and you Il be just as new.
Who shall say the beauty of a bird is not
enchanced by ruffling its plumage?''
just at this moment Mrs Stonington en-
tered to say that the guests had all arrived
and the minister was getting impatient.
Not more so than myself, said Edward,
resigning his bride elect to his uncle, who
was to give her away.
While the ceremony was being performed
a silent prayer goes up from the heartof the
widow and tears drop thick and fast upon
| her furrowed cheeks, for her home will now
70 IT,ip II-hp If 10
two are made.one the mother presses her
daughter to her bosOm-now hers no more
for ever-one long moaning sob, which she
tries to repreSs, escapes her, and she feels
that the light has gone out from the hearth
stone when the carriage containing the new
ly married couple rolled away from the loor.
\ month has passed, Captain Burnett 5
absence having expired, he joins his regl-
ment taking his young bride with him
much against his better judgement to that
desolate portion of Eastern Virginia which
was soon after to be the scene Of a terrible
battle.
But though he presented camplife and
marches in their drearest aspect to her,
her reply was:
Where thou goest [ will GO Had [
thought you would refuse to let me bear
you company in your perils, would not
have married you.
Lucy dearest. how can delicate form
like yours bear the tedious marches which
many hardy soldier sinks under? and then
to subsist for weeks on hard, dry, often times
repulsive food-what a change from the del
icacies you have been nurtured on ="
Let me but try. Edward | am strong
and brave and healthy, and will cheerfully
bear all the privations you mention, nay,
more so. | may be your companion.
And thus it was the brave captain yield
ed to his young wife S entreaties.
The bride was for some time charmed
with the novelty of camp-hfe, and while
listening to the stirring beat of the drum, as
the different companies went through their
drill, she almost wished herself brave
soldier boy" No prouder sight had her
ewes ever witnessed than that Of her gallant
husband as, at the head Of his brave band OF
cavalry lie set out for the battle field.
''Ar d | am to be left behind % she ask
ed as Edward sprang from his saddle and
entered the tent to give her parting kiss;
Certainly dearest What would we do
with a woman on the battlefield.
II feel as if [ could fight 200, Edward.
PRAY let me accompany you.
''Not for the wide world can | consent.
Some i'll would most assurdy befall you;
and you would be at least but a stumbling
block in our way / have given Stanton the
charge of affairs here, and until | return or
YOU hear from me. follow implicitly his dl-
rections. Should / fall dear Lucy, and
hissvoice trembled slightly, go back to
your mother without delay.
Incv's eves ware dim with tears, but she