Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1873-01-15

hected iuridly against the sky. Thousands |
OF lights were twinklng in every direction
some nesting in the valley; some like fire
hies beating their wings and palpitating
around among the trees and others stretch
Ing IN parallel lines and curves like the street
lamps of city. Somewhere, far off, a band
was playing at intervals, it seemed and
now and then, nearer TO, a silvery strain from
bugle shot sharply through the night, and
seemed to lose itself like rocket among the
stars-tbe patient, untroubled stars. Sud
denly hand was laid upon my arm.
" Id like to say word to you," said
Bladburn.
With a little start of surprise | made
room for him on the fallen tree where | was
seated.
! g may mt get another chance" he said
. You and the boys have BEN very kind to
me-kinder than deserved; but sometimes
I've iancied that my not saying anything
about myself had given you the idea that all
was not rIght IN my past. | want to say
that | came down to Virginia with clean
record
" We never doubted it in our hearts,
Bladburn.'
If didn't write home,' ne continued,
{" it was because / hadn't any home, neither
kith nor kin. When | sail the old folks
"tie utdu, sdIu H. All L YOU II
| thought was
" No, Bladburn. have often wanted you
to talk to me about yOurself-not from any
idle cuIi Jsitv, l trust, but because | liked
you that rainy night when you came to camp,
and hive gone on liking you ever since.
This isn't toe much to say, when Heaven
only knows how soon | may be past saying
1t, or you listening to it
- That's it,, said BIadburn hurricdly
g" that's why want to talk with you. I've
a fancy that shan't come out OF our fist
battle
The words gave me queer start, for had
been trying for several days to throw off a
similar presentment concerning him-a pre-
sentiment that grew out OF a dream
In case anything OF that kind turns up,
be continued, 4" I'd like to have you have
my Latin grammar here-you We seen mc
reading it. Yon might stick it away in
bookcase for The sake of old times. 1t goes
against me to think Of it falling into rough
hands or being kicked about camp and tram
pied under foot.
He was drumming softly with his fingers
on the VOLUME in the bosom OF his blouse
" dion count to speak Of this TO a liy-
lng soul, he went on. motioning NE not to
answer him - but something took hold OF
me Tonight and made me follow you up here.
Perhaps il | tod you all, you would be
the mOle willing to llOk alter the little book
in case 1t goes i'll with me,
" When the war broae out was teaching
) school down in Maine. in the same village
where my father was Schoolmaster before me.
THE old man, when lie died, left me quite
alone. | lived pretty much by myself, nav
ing no Interest outside OF the district school.
which seemed IN manner my personal pro
Perty. Eight years ago last spring u Lew
pupil was brought 10 the school, slight
slip OF grl, with a sad kind OF face and
quiet ways. Perhaps 1t was because she
WASH very strong, and perhaps it was
cause ste wasn't used over well by those
who bad charge Of her, or perhaps 1t was
because my lite was lonely, that my heart
warmed to the child, 1t all seems like a
dream now. since that April morning when
little Mary stood in front of my desk. with
her pretty eyes looking down blshlulIy, and
her soft hair falling over her face. One day
looked up. and SIX years had gone by-as
they 90 by IN dreams-aLd among the schol-
ans Is tall girl Of sixteen, with serious
| womaniy eyes which | cannot trust myself
to look upon. The old lie has come to an
end, The child has become a woman and
can teach the master now. SO help me
Heaven, didn know loved her untl that
day
" Long after tie children had gone home.
| sat IN the school-ro0m with my face rest
ing en- my hands. There was her desk, the
afternoon shadows falling across it. 1t never
looked empty, cherries telore | went and
stood by the little chair, as | had stood hun
dreds OF times. On the desk was a pile OF
books ready to be taken away, and among
the rest small Latin grammar which We
| IpI bar ba l;.t !
and trlumphs and happy hours were ussoeIa-
ted with 1t | took it up curiously, as if it
were some precious dead thing, and turned
over the pages, but could scarcely see them
turning the pages Idly 50, | came to a lear
on which something was written with ink
IN the familiar gIrish hand 1t was only
the words g Dear John, through which
she had drawn two hasty pencil lines-I wisb
she hadn t drawn those lines " added Biad-
burn under breath.
He vas silent for a minute or two, looking
Oft toward the camps, where the lights were
fading out one by one
- had no right to 90 and love Mary.
was twice her age, an awkward, unsocial
man, that would have blIgnted her youth.
| was as wrong as wrong can be. But
never meant 10 tell her. locked the gran
mar IN my desk and tie secret in nv heart
|
the village, and kept away from every place
where She was likely to te. Then s6e came
to me, and sat down at my ect penitently,
just as she used To do wien she was a chIld.
and asked what she had done to anger ms; ]
told her all and asked her if she could say
! with her lips the words she had written ana
che nestled IN my arms all Il trembling like
! bird and sand them over aud over again
9 hen Mary's family heard OF our en-
gagemcnt, Il ere was trouble. They looked
hIgtcr tor Mary than midde-aged school
master. No blame to them. They forbade
me the house, ter unclcs: but we met
4 IN the village and at the neighbors houses.
and | was happy, knowing that she loved
me. Matters were in this state when the
war came on. | had strong call 70 look
alter the old flag, and hung my head that
day when the company raised IN our village
marched by the school house to the railroad
; station; but | cOuldn' tear myself away
About this time the minister's son, who had
been away to college, came to the village.
He met Mary here and there, and they be-
came great trlends. He was likely fellow.
near i.er own age, and 1t was natural they
t should ike one another. Sometimes |
e WINGED at seeing him tree at the home from
/ which | was shut out then | would open
e the grammar at the Leaf where Dear j John ,
t was written up in the corner, and my trou-
e BILE was gone. Mary was sorrowful and pale
r these days, and think her people were wor-
t ryirg her,
/ 1" 1t was one evening, two or three days
7 before we ct the news Of Bull Run | had
+ gone down TO the cemetery to trim the spruce
hedge set around the old man s lot, and was
4 Just stepping into the inclosure when | heard
e voices Tom the opposite side One was
S Mary s, and the other | knew to be young
+ Mars on 3, the minister son. didn't mean
to listen, but what Mary was saying struck
! me dumb We must never mect n1,nir