Smyrna times., 1878-09-18
SMYRNA DEL, WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON, SEPTEMBER 49, 1873

there was different look on Johns face.
The doctor nodded his head in qualification
when he made his visit.
"Theres no tonic like familiar face,
Lieutenant Earle" he said. 81 begin to
think you're worth score of dead men,"
| shall never forget the long summer
days | passed there by Johns bedside.
They were full Of hope of trustfulness and
peace. | could think of Robbie without
feeling that old, hard ache at heart.
After a little we had the room to our
selves most of the time. Those who "were
not sick unto death" were taken elsewhere,
and those to whom the call of the angels
came, went out into the other world with
the peace of God upon their lips. l shut
down the lids of moro than one poor
soldiers eyes in that old house, and
wondered where the dear ones were who
would fain have stood where | had in those
last sad hours of life. put little flower
or leaf between their palms for mothers
sake, or wifes, or sisters, and saw them
burn away in the awful pomp and state
which seems to cling to the humblest
! burial.
awe will 90 to Robbie's grave some
day." John said. "Almost the last thing
| remember is the volley they fired over it,"
long, quiet talks of ours, and from the first
knew that he had given up wholly, on
that summer night when he said goodbye,
the thought of ever calling me by any
dearer name. He had accepted my answer
as final. had thought | knew my heart
then; but know it better now.
1t was Il quiet day in October when he
was well enough to walk to Robhie's grave
with me. The air was full of Indian
summer glory and vagueness, and the
purple haze, which touched everything
with dreaminess, made the world seem as
if it were asleep and had forgotten its care
and trouble
We climbed the hill slowly. We said
but little. | broke off some sprays oil
purple astcr growing by the path, and one
; glowing tuft of golden-rod, to lay on Rob
bies grave.
"Shut your eyes, Ruth" John said, "ant
l will lead you to it."
And l closed my eyes trustingly, while he
, held my hand and led me on.
Here it is" he said presently, anC
turned away and left me alone. And
saw the hillside slooping away, warm anC
Y pleasant in the sun; and heard the wine
| whispering plantively in the branches of
=! pine tree over my head, and at my feet, al
grave!
n
a 1t was some time before John came back
n lie knew that | had many things to tel
y Robbie that | could tell him better ther
|, than anywhere else, and | believe oh
t kno,g, that Robbie heard.
a q" Have ! come too soon? p he asked.
ooh, mol" | answered, smiling up a
X him. How noble and grand he locke
i with the empty sleeve folded across hi
:. breast,
y "If were lying here" he said, by,and
g by, land you had come to visit my grave
,. what would you have to tell me ?"
il "Oh, Johnv' | cried, with my heart upo
q my lips, 81 should tell you that | love
Il you"
I He started and turned pale. l coul
n not help it if my eyes were full of tell.ta
light He half understood, and yet |
doubted for he had not dared to hope f
= the love had refused.
- "Ruth, what do you mean ?" he erie
# full of swift excitement
h "Oh, John, are you blind?' My fa
was full of swift, sweet shame. " | do To-
you, and I want to be your right hand
nr the place of the one you gave for Robbie
10 Are you saying this out of pity?"
ID asked, and l looked him honestly in Il
face, while l answered:
ii 9" am doing it for lorc'S sake, john"
~ answered not n word, but oh the e
,s. quence of his tender eyes lie gather,
of me to his brest with his one poor arm, al
his face was radiant with the light of
,r great hope realized. And the wind VIII
~ pered overhead, and rustled the grasses
nt my feet, and in it Robbie was telling Il
Il that he knew, and was glad. All! he u
,IS derstood and, knowing all, was happy
the bird that scared upward from its ne
be among the daisies in the grass, and sang
song close to the blue gates of heaven,
loves sake !-EJcn E. Rerford