Mineral Point weekly tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1859-1868, 1867-07-10

my blanket where the bomb-shells have
! plowed up the earth. So sleep quiet.
II littlc one, and some of these elor.
Ious autumn DAYS | shall clasp YOU in
my arms again.
- " hen this cruel war is over
shall come back hero"
And so the young wife tried to
catch a gleam of the strong manly
faith that buoyed up her soldier: but
over all her beautiful imaoinincs would
sometimes drift dark clouds and omens
Of gloom.
Summer had appropriated the court
robes OF autumn, and then came the
winter, stealing with stealthv feet
over the forests and prairics. Strange
snatchcs Of camp-choruses and battle
rhymes the wind whistled around.
But there is sweeter music in the
quiet sitting room among the naples.
where the dainticst little white face
peeps ont from its embroidered blank
ct. The most beautiful blossoms that
angels ever sent. thought Alice. as
she turned its soft cheek toward her
on the pillow.
God has snrel Y sent across her stormy
sky, a tiny messenger of his love.
The soft caressing of the fair little
arms had brought back TO life all its
lost music, and through the bare rough
bou@hs of the homestead trees chimed
out gentle hush a-bv hymns that 81
fenced for while the spectral echoes
from the war fields.
But back came the blue violets
again; back came the wandering wild
birds from the plains covered with the
dead from the lonesome svcamores
that sung dirges round the southern
dungeons; from the sobbing sea. whose
waves formed a scpulchre for many a
household darling back again. trilled
the old, old songs, joyous, jubilant as
ever.
:. @ birds Of the oldcn spring time
how We chant forth in such ecstacies :?
How can YOU send out such glorious
and matin hymns. when every wind is
choked with sobs from wrecked hearts?'
So sighed poor Alice those balmv
spring days. for there under a broad
iibttCtihS oih t'tN itI anger blOS-
SOM" gone to the pastures of the
gentle Shepherd, she knew; but oh.
how she ycarncd for him; how the
scalding tears poured in vain upon her
weary pillow. Gone, gone. and with
his little life had passed all the laugh
ter Of the spring days. Flowers.
white and golden. sprang mp under her
feet, but she had crushed them in pet
ulant despair, and prayed the All
Faithful to take her too.
"Wh hat should she do with all the
days and hours that must be counted
ere she saw his face
She had been dreaming all the sol
itarv winter Of the long furlough in
the glad summer time when her hero
from the trenches would return and
clasp to his bosom the treasure she had
guarded for him. Now there was left
but a mound of all they both so much
loved. Q for the strong arm, for the
old place to lay her head and weep.
for the carcssing hand to sooth away
her pain.
Alas that day in the dreary stock
at Andersonville, feeble emaciated
man Law on handful of straw Long
months Of confinement and starvation
had done their work His thin hands
were almost trans aren't; his broad
brow pale and ghostly, and his mind
wandering. He motioned his comrades
around him, and, drawing from his bo-
som a locket, he gasped Tell her ]
tried to come home, but they wouldn't
let me- Tell how ] worked day and
night in the tunnels till the blood
hounds found me, how | swan the riv-
er, and they brought me back; but
I'm going home now-going home.
They can't chase me again. I'm com
ing, darling Alice-coming"
1t was a day of victory when they
brought her the news The crazy
bells rang, as though to smother the
groans Of the dying: cannon rushed
through the streets banners waved !:
men shouted women swept by in
gorgeous silks and velvets. \ mes
senger rode slowly up the winding
path on the hill, in his hand he bore
letter and a little package. Alice
hurried to the door and received the
missivc, directed in a strange hand.
With wild palpitatinc heart she tore
it open, and hastily snatched its con
tents, then her hand dropped nerve
less b7 her side.
They looked for a storm of grief
and torrents Of tears, but they did not
come. Only a strange look of unborn
despair settled down on her face.
They tried TO rouse her. She an
swered only with a wierd smile, and
eyes staring away into the distance.
There they comel" she cried, ''see
the dust from the horses feet. Tell
him to hurry He must see my boy
before he wakes. Hush nv dear. lie
still and slumber. Friends looked
around speechless at each other; but
for her, all the future agonies of life
were ended.
Before another springs violet dress
cd up the withered graves, there was
another mound in the quiet cemetery
another soul beside The still waters.
OVER seventy cotton factories have