Northern Ohio journal. [volume] (Painesville, Ohio) 1872-1896, 1873-12-06

y
passed into their silent graves. Men .
ind boys wounded and famishe6 lay in |
so-called. Some gave up |
heir gentle lives to be recklessly shuf- |
led into nameless graves-nameiess:
nay, there Is a record: Better beneath |
His eve than beneath stones:' Others, ,ex-
half dead from disease and |
passed to their dear northern |
homes, crippled for life. Every south |
ern breeze that blew seemed but a
breath of horror and death.
With all quaker's peaceful shrinking
from war and its consequent terrors, I'M
Gle Giles grew flint with sudden fear
one June day when boy entered the
door with telegram from Washington,
reading thus:
GILES CUsHNAN-Your son William. ex-
ssasDgsa samsg ps,isDs5 sset badly wounded
'''> Acting Surgeon.
Just recovering from a spell of fever,
nervous excitement consequent to an uh-
wonted journey, and such a journey!
So his son-in-law, with the family ply
sician. started on the sad errand OF
bringing back the wanderer. it might be
living, 1t might be dead-God only
knew; but better dead than living they
sadly felt if he still trod in the drum
kard's way.
So life took up once more the old tor
ttlOuS suspense hope and Joy 1iuttered
near with pale wings; family whisper
ing rejoice and pray, that now the lost
is found, God will lead him back TO the
life in Him, beside the still waters of
temperance and truth.
Thus joy and hope whispered, and
they awaited for news from Washing
ton.
1t was hot day in July, when car
riage travelled along over the dusty
stretch of road leading towards Giles
Cushman' s farmhouse; for leaning back
against cushion and army blanket, hold
ing the old doctors hand, was all that
was left of William Cushman. A sad
smile came to his face as they neared the
huge willows just at the edge of the
farm; raising the thin hand to his head
he looked wistfully on to the brick
chimneys of the dear old home just
showing over the tree-tops, and sadly
said: I'm most afraid they won't be
glad to see me, I've made them all such
lots of trouble
Past the willows, past the pasture-lot
where the Daisy, and Brindle, and
looked up inquiringly at the slow car
riage; past the cottages on the left,
where plying women with sleeves
rolled up, stopped from their washing
to cast a look OF half sympathy at Giles
Cushman's trOable come home again.
past the double gate and the old cherry
tree up to the maple by the garden en-
trance. to the huge block of wood for n
landing place.
Beside the gate uncle Giles, his white
hair glancing silvery in the sunlight,
his head bowed, lips moving, yet with
no sound.
The doctor, brother-in-law, and the
driver, lifted the pale young man from
the carriage, and he staggered up to un-
Gle Giles looking into his face with ear
nest, hollow eyes Giles, the gentle soul,
tenderly laid his trembling hands light
ly on his boys head, moist eyes raised
| to Heaven, while pale lips quivered the
bless thee and keep thee ever safely, my
lad Plump, girlish arms stole around
the returned wanderers neck, while
soft, sisterly kisses filled the hollow el
the sunken cheeks. Aunt Rachel laiC
| the poor tired head against the snowy
handkerchief and soft gray silk folded
| on the peaceful breast, and sobbed
| welcome in the peculiar trembling in
tonation Of her quaker voice, .We'rs
| glad thee's come home again, my deal
boy, God bless thee and keep thec!'
| Old Major hOwled and jumped int
frantic contortions of delight; whil'
Betty, the mare, thrust her ancient nos,
through the orchard bars, whinnying /:
shrill neigh.
Tears ran plentiousiy down the man.
face. I'm rested and better already
| with the dear welcome that comes from
everywhere
Not a dry eye was there among then
all; the driver, a rough man, turne'
iaway with his horses down the road
crying, siike biarsted fool, he said.
August, with its golden glow, it
drowsy hum of honey drunken bees
and occasional chirping of birds; file
laziiy rising and sinking in the mellow
sunlight and shadow, while up from tn
garden, into the sick room came the per
fume of phlox and pinks; great golde
suniowers nodded their ungracefu
heads in clumsy alteration of the daz
zling brightness of their sun-god in tn
azure above; bar of the garish sur
shine entered the room, resting on th
then almost transparent hand tha
worked up and down in the silver an
golden bar.
You'll see, dear father, if live-bu
won't make any more Of my old boasl
full promises-but tell you [ lived til
old days over and over in that horri
, pen at Libby, wounded and starved.
thought of you and tue girls, and dea
aunt Rachel, busy at home, striving
pay off that mortgage. made for mi
, tulpa need! and when one of the prison
ers, to pass away the time, told how hi
, old dad larruped him and kicked hi,
, out of the house for being drunk. ju!
. once, and that he'd gone and listed, ft
spite, concluding with Il guess they
feel mighty bad at home, when they hea
. Pm gone, cause boys the gangrenc
got at my wound, and don't think. II
\ so starved, | can stand her long now
He died and oh, the sickening fear tn:
came to my soul, and the thought of no
| gently you had dealt, so often, wit
r your erring one, how little you coul
: Efegret me when the news wonid reaC
@ you if | should die. used to read 10
n soldier testament and pray then, re
prayer, heart prayer, father
O. How pitifully sad was the weak voic
+ God only knows my vows an
J. thoughts then, only most of the time
I was so hungry l couldn't think, and o.
o. so awful sick and faint-like; sometim
4 seemed to be in the old kitchen wi,
If the fragrance of the grape blooms ar
!
.s !ows, and the smell of meat aud pi
n baking, oh how dreadful hungry it US,
to make me. I've been awfully tempt,
,r sometimes, when the men got liquor
II the boat coming up. suppose peop
q are never real clear from temptation
n this world; but He kept me; it W
.tJ never my strength that resisted. [ W
" only kind of bruised reed, ready
2 snap any minute if hadn't had him
cling to-
9. Through careful nursing, VILLA
}, Cushman gradually recovered healt
A. but never the strength his early you
he had promised.
10 Jonas Young trusted him once mo
G. in the tannery SO far as to make him
N book-keeper, with promise of renewal
ht partnership after years trial. Capt.
/. contingent to means.
" did he stumble ever? nay !; before t
nj God whom he trusted did he walk t
in remainder Of his days an hoAored a
of honorable mau
ne IF the Son make you free, yon sb
- be free indeed
ct A brilliantly lighted parlor, shimm
and sheen ami flashing lights and je
he els, beautiful forms and beautiful fac
,h A handsome woman, a young bride,
| uhnsa l,apnY this Ony assaur hla xys