Smyrna times., 1878-01-30

lamously. Even the rude farmer boys had
learned how it came there, and respected
it religiously, while little paling kept off
other intruders. Susie's heart throbbed
high with hope and faith, at times, as she
noted the wonderful vitality and prosperity
of her leafytfavorite. 1t grew as if it had a
duty to perform, and was determined to do
it well. And the little spring bubbled up
more briskly from under it, and seemed to
murmer, softly, "He will come! He will
comer'
Still one year, and another, and another,
went by, and Charlie did not come, and
letters were terribly uncertain, and far
between. All around the world he had
been sent, and Susies heart at times grew
sick and weary, in spite of the willow.
But she had other suitors, for her beauty
seemed to grow every day, and her father
was getting along well in the world once
more. Truth to tell, Susie had something
of Mother Eve in her, and was by no means
averse to ambition and attention.
So it happened that one day in June of
the fourth year of the residence of the
Mortons in their new home, just as the sun
was setting, Susie found herself taking
stroll along the shaded roadside, ac-
companied by the handsomest and most
favored of her numerous train of worship
pers.
They did not seem 10 be in a talking hu.
NOR, but walked slowly along until they
came to the forks of the road, and paused
a moment by the spring. Here, at last, the
young man seemed to have found his
tongue, and he pleaded eloquently and
passionately for the half-reluctant hand
which he had seized in both his own.
Still, Susie was silent, and it may be that
the bubbling spring and the signing willow
were talking to her; but just then they
heard the sound of horses hoofs coming at
quick pace up the road, and in moment
more rider drew his rein beside them,
and asked politely if he could be directed
to the residence of Judge Morton. The
young man had dropped Susie's hand, and,
halfvexed at the interruption, was proceed
ing to give the desired information, but his
words were not listened to.
The horseman was leaning forward in his
saddle, and had fixed a gaze of earnest
penetration on the face of Susie Morton, on
which the bushes had given way to a
deadly pallor.
Susie, have come! The willow"
II l.
an instant, and, with a long sigh of relief
she pointed to the branches which swept
her shoulder, and answered, "Hers it is
Charles; it has been growing ever since
you went away"
Susie's other companion was not obtusC
enough to linger longer in the shade o.
such a tree as that, and before she had re
turned to the house, Charlie had reclaimed
his gift. The song of the spring only
changed enough to sound like, He ha
come-he has comet"
4 4 4
Thirty years went by, and the Morton
willow kept on growing, until it became
well-known landmark, towering high in tn
air above the little spring at the forks O
the road. But thirty years work change
in other things besides trees, and sill
| from the willow had been discovered t
grow above little mound in the villag
graveyard, for the Judge slept, like tru
American, not with his fathers. Every
thing else had undergone changes, if no
always improvement, and at last came tn
fearful changes of the rebellion.
1t was not many days after the Getty'
burg fight, that a matronly lady, in dee
mourning, supported by fair young CIR
similarly clad, walked slowly and feebl
$ down the sloping road to the spring.
| If there is a bough within reach, dear,
. would rather gather it myself; and then,
2 can find where they have laid him, wi
v go and plant it with my own hands,"
Q One long, sweeping branch of the willo
tree seemed, as she approached it, almo
I to be held out to her with sympathizin
f purpose, and, with pale face and quive
ing lips, she was proceeding to sever II
O slip she wanted, unmindful of the rattle
v coming carriage wheels As for her cor
panion, she had sunk down upon the gra
I, and covered her face with her hands. II
st good lady's trembling fingers almost refuse
@ to perform their duty, and the carriaI
\. drew within few PAGES of her just as 81
,f severed the slender rod
|: "Well, mother, hope that you are n
d cutting that for me-" said a CHEEKY, b
somewhat feeble voice from the carriag
II The young girl sprang to her feet, but on
I. just in time to save her mother from
g. ling, though she did not quite faint, al
recovered quickly.
n. "Oh, Charlie, my boyi-my boy u
"Here / am, motker-hurt, sure enoue
p' hut in no need Of willow yet, am
Of fAther7'
Not by any MEANS" said a hale a
Is hearty old gentleman, in naval undre
who now sprang out of the carriage; ga
they've given US both a furlough, thou
,e. mine is a short one. This willow '
Id always good omen."
And again the spring seemed to bub
er up softly, He has come i--he has come
Ily And the old lady, toe, sobbed and lau
It ed, and kissed the returned warriors,
all the good mother, with the bit of will