Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1881-10-18
THE WIDOW GRANT.

"Harry Fredericks; aged nineteen,
shot in the battle of Fredericksburg.
Such was part of an inscription up
on q marble slab in the little cemetery
Of Allandale.
Mrs. Grant, strolling by the grave.
stopped for q moment to read the simple
record.
"Aged nineteen" she murmured.
"Only q boy"
And then, as if by some subtle feeling
of sympathy, she sat down on the soft
turf near by and let her thoughts goI
wandering back to that mourn1ul time
when so many homes were 80 desolate.
because theirlt'boys" were in the midst
of danger and death. 4
Harry. Our Harry to somebody"
she said to herself. gathering spray OF
myrtle that ltrailed about the grass, and
laying it tenderly in her palm. "a blue
eyed, blonde haired Harry ,broad-chest-
ed and strong-armed. A warm hearted,
big souled Harry, brave a. . lion and
tender as awoman-somebody g darling,
somebody's stay and consolation"
The tears stood In the woman's eyes
and dropped over her cheeks She, too,
had lost q Harry-the love of her girl"
hood, the husband ofher young woman
hood. r.a
II wonder who this Harry's mother
was 2" she thought, land If she Is liv-
ing still ?"
And then she tried to imagine how q
mother must feel when the child she has
nursed and reared, who beans about In
himself the very heart of her own being,
goes away to battle to kill or be killed.
ut is hard, ;" she said, "hard, hard !"
And pressing her lips for moment up
on the sod that covered the brave young
hesrt. she rose and walked away.
From the cemetery she went to the
main street of the town, and, going into
dry goods store, proceeded to examine
satins and ribbons.
"Can I have the goods on three
ing upon several articles.
mo, madam" answered the clerk,
curtly, II have orders to the contrary"
Every WELL"
A despairing look fell upon the pale,
sweet face, and Mary Grant walked out
of the store and to her little home Of
three rooms over Tom Hanson's bakery.
What was she to do next? Sarsnet
e Go. would trust her no longer, and
they had been her main Dependence
She sat down in the middle Of her tiny
shop, and looked with sort of st0lid
grief at the specimen bonnets and hats
that should have been finished long ago,
and at the old ladies' caps that seemed,
In their grim imperturability, to be Civ
ing her silent lesson upon the fallacy
Of human hopes.
How she hated them at that minute,
this little milliner, who six months be-
fore had sat contentedly making these
mil Hasr Anffnd Joan
and purple bows and illusion ruchings
But, then, she was sustained by hope,
and that makes all the difference.
Mary Grant, a soldiers widow, came
to Allandale with less than $50 capital
in her shabby little wallet. She had a
few pieces of furniture, and letter OF
Introduction to Sarsnet & Co. from city
merchant who had done the firm many
good turn first and last. With these
assets and sundry liabilities, the young
widow had hoped to strike q favorable
balance, and build up business by
which she could support humble home.
But she had not been fortunate. In
the first place, Mahitable Pillsbury, an
old maid, with bank bills a. numerous
as her wrinkles, had set up business a
block or two away. Her show window
was gorgeous with pattern hats, rich
ribbons and laces, and che kept q stand
ing advertisement in the Allandale En-
terprise.
1t made little difference that Mary
Grants millinery was artistic, while
Miss Pillsbury's was only snowy and
''stylish." The Allandale fair ones
were not artistic themselves, and aimed
at nothing higher than keeping up with
their neighbors. So it happened that
the widows hats and caps stood upon
their standards, till, as have said. they
seemed to leer at her with ridiculous
and accusing aspect,
She could not make her first payment
to Sarsnet & Co. on time. They gave
her an extension, but she failed again to
pay the whole amount, and at last, as
we have seen, the firm refused to trust
her for goods.
She sat there, thinking of those disap-
pointments, and wondering. In dull
way, what she should do in the future.
"I'll clear the show-window," she
said" and pst4p tin sign for plain
sewing, or 4fn washing. I should like
the Wishing beet. Wouldn't that be q
bitter pill for the aristocratic Grants |!
At any rate, believe could earn my
living that way, and now I am getting
in debt every day."
Just as Mrs. Grant arrived at this dis
agreeable conclusion, the shopsbell
rang.
Somebody for a yard of five-cent rib
bon," she muttered, going languidly to
the door and opening 1t.
A bright, sweet-faced girl of twelve
years or thereabOuts, came In and asked
for straw hat. While the milliner
showed her assortment, tine child exs
planned that she also wanted q bonnet
made for their baby, little Sally"
''She's two years old" added the Gus
toner, land want something suita-
ble,"
"Why didn't your mother come and
bring little Sally ?" asked Mrs. Grant.
I'VE haven't any mamma at least,
not here in this world. She died two
years ago when baby was born"
And who keeps house ?"
II do" answered the child, quite
simply.
Your
eyes" Papa is too poor to hire q
house-keeper. Aunty Baker, mammals
sister, wants him to break up and let her
have baby but papa and I can't bear
to, and 80 Pm housekeeping, and papa
helps me. Aunty says its ridiculous :;
but we would rather have our own
home-wouldn't you, ma'am 2"
Indeed should, my DEAR" answer
ed the widow, her eyes glistening,
"You see," said the girl, growing
quite confidential In Mary Grants sym
pathetic atmosphere, ''my papa's min
lister. He breaches at Hunts Corner.
His church is small, and they don't pay
him much.
"And there's nobody home but you
and papa and baby"
mo. We had Harry once, but he
went to war. Papa thinks mamma was
never 80 strong after that. He thinks If
Harry had staid at home. mamma might
have lived. You See, she used to lieI
awake nights and think about him, and
she cried so hard whenever she heard
of q battle.n
"And Harry was killed at last.
"Yes, at Fredericksburg. He was
very badly there. Papa went
to him, he died the same day. and papa
brought him home. Poor Harry !" l.
$50 that Is the Harry whose grave I