Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1878-04-16

waters beneath US to disturb the still
ness, until, after several minutes, h
resumed, rapidly, now, and with ap
parent anxiety to have done with th
subject.
: "She bore with it month after month
; as patiently as nun; but she couldn'
stand it always, of course, and so sh
told me, at last, not in anger, or bluntly
but with firmness, and yet sadly,
} thought, that the time had come for u
to part. 1t would have choked me t.
speak, even if speaking could hav'
done any good, which it couldn't; so
; simply took her hand moment-i
trembied, calm as she Was-and bowling
went away"
He paused once more, and | was upor
the point of rising. supposing he haC
said all he had desired to say, but ht
nOtiOned me to remain, and went or
talking. After that, l lay sick long
ltime-eight weeks, they told me-with
some Internal sort of fever. and the
money had saved went to the doctors
pulled through, of course. Men have
died, from time to time, and worms
have eaten them, but not for love- !
don't know how it was, but when I got
up again, my brain seemed to be kind OF
incoherent-'pied,' you might say-and
| couldn't get steady work, and finally
they began to whisper around about
sending me to Jacksonville-that' s
where the crazy asylum is, you know
Then l braced up, and the first dark
night, I jumped the town without say
ing q blessed word to anybody, and
lsiace-weil, you know the rest, or a
good deal of it. But you didn't know
you would never have guessed if L
hadn't told you-that it was too much
happiness made me what l amp
| With this little paradox, he turned
partially aside, and I noticed that he
was fumbling about his clothes as if in
search of something tobacco, presum-
ed. Presently, he drew out from some
inscrutable hiding place an old creased
and rumpled leather pocket-book, and
took from it faded sprig Of cedar, and
handing it to me, said with that CLASSY,
cynical smile [ had seen so often -
'"There's rosemary, that's for remem-
brance. Pray you, love, remember"
Then he told me Isabel had given it to
him once, standing by the gate, that he
| had carried it through all the long years
as memento other. When / reached it
back to him, he put it away again in the
wrinkled old poccket-book, as tenderly
as if it had been a tress OF hair from the
head of a dead baby. and then, Il won
| der, ifshe ever thinks Of nle?" he said,
quite seriously, and we walked leisurely
up the long street together, neither of
us speaking word more until we came
to the corner where we had to separate,
and there we merely said ''good night,n
and parted.
| | did not see him again for some time,
and when, at length, lie made me anoth-
er visit, in the afternoon of a mellow
October day, he informed NE that he
was about to leave the town. ''Our
planet is dropping into its annua,
shadow" he said, with mock gravity,
| "a0d must HE ne away to fresh fields
and pastures new. l want to commune
with Nature, you understand; to touch
the earth, Ike Anteus to eat haws, and
smell the fall wheat; to mingIe With the
quails, and blue-jays, and woodpeckers,
and all that sort Of thing. Be good to
yourself, Cap. Don't work too hard,
and beware Of the enemy that men put
i'll their mouth to steal away their brains.
By-by." And before T had time to an
swer, he was out Of my sight and shuf-
ling down the stairs, leaving me in
mood that was nearer sadness than I
would have cared 70 confess, and which,
{ fear, gave a 3owncast tinga to the
| COllDl0H2Ue0lths editorials for several
| mornings afterward.
| He returned in about TIVE weeks,
strange to say, anu he solemnly asserted
he had only been ''looking for q home
stead.n He WAS jaded, fo0t-sore, and, az
usual, a little shabbier than before as to
clothing. He had read, he said, in soine
real estate paper, OF locality out in
prIMeval Kansas where corn grew wild,
and livestock waXed fat en- the mere
superaDundance OF ozone, and every
! quarter-section had been neatly fenced
with stone by the geological commissions
of past ages; and he had beea hunting
for it, intending to enter homestead in
it and become q gentle shepherd. He
couldn't find it, though and now he
wanted few days work ''to renlenish
ali, he said, ne wanted 10 see the man
who wrote those things he read in that
paper.
The foreman found work for him in
the job-roorn; but the next Saturday he
left again, without even the forTnality
OF saying good bye to NE We heard Of
him. in few days, cracking jokes with
Nobe 1'rentis Of the Junction Union ::
then working week for Milt Reynolds
Of the Parsons SIN; then in the Gala
boose at Fort Scott, and Web wilder of
the Monitor paying fines for him to keep
him out OF the chain gang; and FROM
Fort Scott he swung around about the
middle Of December, to Topeka.
Just glided in to pay my respects"
he remarked, "and to tell you Pm Off
for the sunny south. Ike you Kansas
fellows ever SO much, but want to see
the magnolias.n
That was all Ao said. An iiour later
happening to look from my window, I
saw him moving briskly down the street,
which was also the State road and.
waving his hand 10 me, he disappeared
He came back again, with the grass
and the birds, the following spring. He
had been to Galveston, he explained,
and mad worked his way north through
Arkansas and the Indian Territory
Somehow tie trip seemed to have dis
appointed him. He talked gloomily a.
bout II, when | could get him to talk Of
it at all and the very thought of it ap-
pearcd to cloud his spirits like the haunt
ing OF some miserable dream. Perhaps
the trouble was deeper than my shallow
vision discerned; perhans i. oarne from
within, and net f.0lQ Without at all
Sometimes / thought SO; but knowing
hia as I did, the absurdity Of the thing
would creep il TO upset such notions
and finally, when he came to me one
night, with the old familiar quizzcal
expression On his couutenapce, and told
me he wanted to talked to me about
writing an obituary for him when he
should die, [ felt sure that lie was recoy-
ering himself, and would soon touch bis
natural poise again.
Il hope you appreciate the honor l
confer upon you" said he, ''in celQcting
yca to give r21e ~,y Anal aend of. It'S
beaausaI ike your style; and / want
you to tell just the barefooted facts about
me-'nothing extenuate, nor aught set
down in malice Don't speak Of me "a
a brilliant but cratic fellow, for that
will simply mean that 1 was an awful
liar. Don't say Of he, He had his
faults, as who Of US has rot because
that is merely 8 polite way ofteuing that
the deceased was @ drunken SGT. And
II die OF the jim.jams, as [ probably
shall, DON'T say ii was apoplexy, OF
paralysis, but call it jim jams, plain and
simple; I'll feel better about itifyou do.