The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1865-08-14
Monday Morning, August n, 1865
ONE OF MANY.

4
l am sitting by the open window and look
ing out upon the orchard, where the tree,
stand laden with apple blossoms, whose deli
cate perfume floats in this twilight air Just as
it did four years ago tonight. sfa
There is nothing changed about this old
place as look upon its picture now. There
stands the stone-curbed WELL over which the
long sweep hangs, with its dangling bucket
moss-covered, and dripping water monoto-
nously-just as ever. There is Carlos kennel
and Carlo himself is lying there, with his nose
upon his oatstretched paws, and his eyes clos
ed lazily; precisely thus he lay as looked out
of this window four years 20 this hour. /
can hear Kate and Bess and Dick and Duke
stamping with their iron hoofs in their stables
in the old red barn; and over the top Of that
same tree that bears the golden sweets, peeps
the wooden weather-cock on the roof of the
hay-shed. The doves have been flying in and
out OF their cotes over the wide door for the
past hour; and the swallows, not yet gone to
sleep, are squeaking and chattering overhead.
There bangles the swing under the oak. Yon-
der comes Philip whistling up the road He
has changed no more in these four years than
if he were an image, instead of being, as he
is, a middle-aged serving man. Everything
my eye rests upon is just the same-just the
same. | wish it were not How can the
world go on so unchanged?
1t seems as if / had been dreaming, here by
the window in the sun of the warm May al
ternoon, and just awakened in the falling twi-
light Was it my wedding night four years
ago? ra
Yes. There, on the bed within this room,
my boy is sleeping. Here on my finger is my
wedding ring, and kiss it, and It is as cold to
my lips as his forehead was. Here are my
widows mourning garments. am twenty
two. was eighteen when Frank drew me to
his heart, here in this very room he called me
his darling, his brown-eyed BRIDE Oh, how
loved him You ladies who live in cities, and
whose lives are crowded with events-who
have loved and nIlloved one man after another,
whose hearts were older at eighteen than mine
is this day, even after all its deep joy and sor
row-you cannot know how / loved my hus-
band.
he was the only man 1 ever loved, remem-
berthe only one. My father was so stern
with me that him / never dared to love NV
mother died whenkI was little, and my father
kept me always under his eye, permitting me
no such pleasures as those that country girls
generally have, and books were my best COM
panions. There were balls at the tavern at
the cross roads in the winter, but never went
TO them. There were picnic parties in the
woods in summer, and husking bees in au-
tumn, and other merry-makings of which |
some times heard, but which / never saw
own home was gathered from the glimpses i
got of the neighbor-people on Sundays at the
little church where all the farmers on Moreton
Heights met to worship, and still do. It was
there / first saw Frank, when / was a little
curly-headed girl, and he was a blue-eyed boy
five years my senior There l saw all ever
saw Of him, till | was sixteen, and he was
home for the college vacation. | met him,
then, one afternoon, as | was coming from a
I~oI 81
side. / loved him that hour with my whole
soul; and during the two years following
learned to find my sweetest happiness in his
smile, the thrilling touch of his hand, the
soft words of love he spoke to me; and at last
to sink in the tremor of unutterable happiness
upon his breast when he asked me to be his
wife. ~
Can you wonder, then, that the wedding
night on which he made me his was dazzline
in its brilliancy to my eyes? | was almost in
toXicated with the novelty and the joy of that
scene, The great rooms of Squire Moreton's
house were like those of palace compared tc
the humber home where had been reared
and it was there we were married, for Franl
wished it so. The crowding guests, the gleam
ing lights, the marriage ceremony the con
gratulations, the whispered joy of my hus
band as he bent over me, and all the odor o
the apple blooms pervading all. seems like
remaining.
Do you believe me exaggerating when | sal
that "ould have yielded up my life unmur
muring for my husbands sake? If you do i
only shows that you have no conception of
love like that bore for Frank. 1t was wrong
to love man SO, perhaps; but oh, / was st
happyl He was my all, remember. On hin
7 lavished the long boarded affection of ma
ture whose depths no mortal being had looked
s,,+, Info I'M " hparf xx,stI
gladness at the sound of his voice at dis
tanee / knew his footstep so well that
would go far beyond the gate to meet hin
when he was coming up the road. His kis
was heaven to my lips, and the fond glance o
his blue eye would thrill my being to the core
You may wonder that [ consented to par
with Frank when loved him so. 1t was be
cause loved him as did that l could not op
pose him when he told me, bis face all glowing
with enthusiasm, that he wanted to raise {
company for the war. Then he talked SO elo
quently aboet it, his eye shone with such lus
tire, and his voice had such cheer in it as h
spoke Of going forth with his comrades to fgh
in defence Of the dear old flag, how could
put in my selfish protest?
But cllmg to his neck with silent fear il
the darkness of night, when he lay fast asleep
pictured his loved form lying wounded anc
bloody on the battlefield, and l hid my face
on my pillow, and pressed his dear cheek witt
my hand, softly, so as not to wake him. while
| wept as if my heart would break. But in
the daytime never let him know / tried my
best to cheer him, for knew it was the ole
patriotic 11re that burned in his manly breast
and no tears of NINE should uuench it. ]
was always proud OF Frank; he was the prince
of men TO me; but now was prouder of him
than ever before.
was but the bride of summer when he
marched away. The harvest was ripe and
the leaves were browning. He kissed me
aSain and again as we stood under the porch
" lhe ooor and | smiled cheerful smile OF
auleu TO him, and struggled to hide from him
lne qulvering of my lips. Then he walked
Driskly away down the garden-path, passed
euC the gate, and waved his gilded cap to ms
from the road; and when he was so far away
onas a;nn ne could not see me weep leaned agains
piliaf and gazed long after him through the
pnndlng rain of unavailing tears
useG W Set such cheering letters from my
ne.o9 ne found so many amusing things t.
WI WrlCe ABOUT IN his new life, and seemed to rel
lsil 30 wen ue novelty and hardihood of tn,
81 po,..;a,'I 5 mouue describe to me the minut
est particulars OF his surroundings. tell m
what he ate and how, where he sIeni and how
and drew for me such photo, ranbe of III
scenes in which he moved. that soo,, o,,;t,
lost my foolish habit of picturino hin, in;,s
bleeding on cold battle fields alo2o ,-;.L ~
watching stars and the long nioht -Instaa, ,s- a
o. TINS l soon began to share his dissatisfac
non at having nothing to do through the lon
writer, and looked forward to the snrin
with ms longing vision, and learned tn nlo,-
IN my nuSDand's strength as he himself did
and to feel certain that all perils must ,,n H,L
before the power Of his arm. Our how wa
born that winter too, and in him fonnd q
object on which to pour out the lnva of NJ