Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1879-07-09

| DLNblO'
:" And Harry was killed at lastp"
Yes. at Fredericksburgh. He was
wounded very badly there. Papa wenI
TO him. he died the same day, and papa
brought him home. Poor Harry"
So that is the Harry whose grave
saw" thought the widow. as she laid her
hand tenderly on the child's head and
kissed her cheek
"Now must 60" said the little mother
Papa will like this hat, think; and you
will have baby's bonnet by Saturday.
wont youp"
Yes. dear. But you must tell mo youl
name before you CO."
Ruth Fredericks. Papa is the Reverend
Henry Fredericks. | wish you could come
and hear him preach. think his sermons
are beautiful, and mamma used to think
so. too"
Ruth went away, and the milliner stood
in the door looking after her, and smiling
at her sweet naivete.
The status of Mary Grants affairs were
not changed when she went back into the
little shop, but somehow her heart was
lighter. her spirit more hopeful. She
selected some silk and lace and began
making Il Normandy cap for baby Sally
humming tune rs she worked.
Her thoughts were busy with the lonely
family and its sad history; with the young
soldier. the sorrowing wife.an the patient,
brave young housekeeper playing mother
so sweelly, and loving her father with such
simple reverence.
Life is not all sham,' she sail.
There are true hearts. noble and unselfish,
God is still with US in human love. and in
this beautiful world that He had created >
The slanting rays of the sun fell into her
room. "a robin sang outside in the elm, a
pot of roses blossomed in her window, and
she knew that crocuses and violets were
awakening from their dea.h-like sleep in
the bosom of the earth"
The old ladies caps we're not taken down
that night Indeed, they had changed
their appearance and seemed to smile
benevolently; and In the early evening a
veriable old lady came in and bought one,
paying good price.
She expected company Decoration day.
she remarked, land wanted to smart up a
little. 1t was neat, tasteful head-dress,
and other old ladies, seeing it, came for
more. The tide seemed to be setting with
faint, yet perceptible motion, toward the
neglected shop.
Mary Grant took courage.
81 will have IN opening" she said. one
bright, electric May morning. 81 will
make the pettiest thing can think of il
it takes my last cent to buy material. And
it will, am sue of that. Never mind,
there is still the fine washing left"
So she went out and bought silk and
lace and white chip bonnets and pale blue
and rose pink ribbons of Sarsnet & Co.
When she got home with her purchases
she had twenty five cents in her purse
Her rent was paid for n quarter in advance
and she could live on eggs and mush, witt
an occasional roast potato. So she was Sc
cure against homelessness and starvation
for a short time at least.
Her delicate fingers flew, and dainty
fabrics grew beneath them. She was full
of inspiration for her work, and in shor
time the little shop window was full O
fresh, artistic designs.
She smiled when she thought Of her
past Encouragement, and attributed all hel
new courage to the advent of Ruth, ant
the making of Sallys Normandy cap.
In some way it "got on" in Allandale
that Mrs Grant had beautiful new styles
Minnie Ferguson, the rich manufacturer
daughter, heard this rumor, and rod'
thilher in her carriage.
The sight of that carriage acted like ;
magic. As many as half dozen young
ladies who saw it, visited the shop th
very next day. The pretty spring bonnet'
went off like hot cakes.
They are unique" said Miss Minnie
and straightwaY the word unique wa
> in the mouth of every one of her troop o
followers. The widow was seriously il
danger of becoming the fashion.
In the meantime Ruth dropped in to sc
her whenever she came to town on errand
for her household. The child-like womal
, and the womanly child grew to love eacI
, other very soon with no common love.
, The condolences grew longer bctweel
t them, and soon Mrs. Grant felt as if sh
= had known the minister's family all he
, life. Many were the visits she made t.
!, Harry's grave.
, Often on the bright May afternoons sh
took trihe of work and sat by the gree
, mound, now purping all over with sprinI
| violets.
r "H He shall be my soldier" she said t
r herself. "On Decoration day will com
: here with the lovelest flowers | can tinC
in the early morning long before the tow
: is stirring"
Shekept her word. AT dawn she steppe
y out into the rosy light, with u basket flu
5 of roses and pansies, verbenas and mign
" onnettes. Through the silent streets sh
c hurried, meeting no one, thinking only {
| a. l.. Of thrnNbipr in TIM
o try's heart for her dead son.
S The cemetery lay serene in the glow {
e the new day. Birds were fitting abou
= here and there among the new graves, an
now and then q gush of music quivere
t through the mir. A shaft from the risin
r sun shot alhwart Harry's grave as the lad
y approached it.
e She smiled rs she saw it.
+ "It's good omen," she said--"a symbC
of the light in which the spirit dwells."
i Once by tho grave, she sat down an
:, began weaving her roses into wreath fc
the young soldier. The pansies, alread
!. bound in dainty bouquet, she place
, upon his breast.
: Sitting there. cntwining the white bio;
i SONS, with their dewy leaves, she mul
J u DidltL VA DSSoAesio
t day:
y "God have mercy upon all mothers wh
weep to-day; give them the true blossom
: of consolation. the lilies of peace, the rose
of triumphant faith"
= Amen" said deep, solemn voice {
Q her side.
She turned quickly, blushing scarlet,an
e saw tall, grave man standing near. IL
1 hands were full of flowers, and it was plai
l that he, too, had come to decorate tt
t grave of the soldier boy.
:, The man and woman looked Into eac
others faces, and then moved by the sam
+ impulse. they clasped hands with clos
cordial pleasure.
l "You are the lady who has been so goc
to my little Ruth" said he.
t And you are Harry's fatherP" sai
S she,
It was strange introduction; but
five minutes conversation there in tt
:. fresh dawn, by Harry's peaceful gray
brought them nearer together than days
j society intercourse would have done.
:. touched the weary, aching heart Of Il
G father very deeply to SEQ this sweet stral