The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1884-11-01

I make no doubt that at that moment
her face beneath tho faded sunbonnet
was beautiful; lovely light, as of first
youth and first love. played over the
lonely pallor of her cheeks; her sunken
ewes shone and bonny smile parted
her lips as she leaned forward and gath
cred up the reins and started the bony
slow horse on the long and
wearsome journey. For the boys
bond had been signed, To morrow
they would be set free for q time at
least--and respite meant everything.
| No need now to look beyond the over
whelming gladness of the one thought
that tomorrow they--he would be
free, and she would be there to receive
them once more into light and air and
/ lifel "a
Fifty miles, why. that nothingl
Across long and lonely reaches of
'.rough,r where the old horse plows
his way painfully through heavy sand.
stumbling every now and then upon
the shin-oak roots that twist their loose,
ugly knots over the road; through bits
OF brown. dreary prairie, where the un-
certain wheels creak over great clods of
black earth, Jumped by the cold into
sharp masses as hard as rock; down
into ravines deep-washed where
the shadows lie heavily and where wild
things, with eyes that shine, creep
stealthily from crevice to creyice over
soggy bottom-lands, strewnwith wrecks
of overloaded trelghters, where the
crows cav in the big cotton-woods and
discuss angrily the pale passer-by.
Fifty miles, why, that Is nothing!
1t is cold and the wind stings her face
like so many needles; her bare hands
are blue and stiff and her feet are numb.
But do you think she feels on her FORE
head the frozen air which presently
melts into binding rain, as she sits
far forward on the seat and urges the
old horse alongP
A mule-rabbit, with long, pointed
ears and glistening coat of fur, gathers
himself up at the side of the road pre-
pared to speed away, but aware of her
unseeiny eye, settles hims III comforta-
blv in his bed of dried grass and stares
ont at her; couple of deer, tawny and
sleek, lying in the shelter of q hollow,
lift their heads and drop them again as
she goes by. The few horsemen she
meets pass her without the customary
salutation, awed into silence by the re-
moteness of her gaze; yet turn to look
afterward, remembering the joyous
smile upon her lips.
And night falls and those awful
Phantoms are somewhere yelling their
faces
The next day is well worn when she
crosses the low fat and aScepds the hill
at the foot of which nestles the town.
1t is still cold but the clouds have
broken and sudden food of light
hathes the valley and turns the windows
: to coppery gold. A bird somewhere in
the distance, as the jaded old horse
breaks into stumbling trot, throws out
: upon the frosty air succession OF
joyous notes thatare -caught up and
answered by another still further off.
She pushes back her bonnet and draws
a long, restful breath. All, there is the
big stone school-house and the snug lit
tie cottages ON either side of the street,
and there is the low Lighthouse so full
5 last summer of merry laughter and
I music and light and-why, what g
A crowd about the jaildoor! oh, yes,
a they are there to welcome the bows
q why, of course, and how kind! Only
she longed to be the first to meet him.
n The old horse slackens his pace anC
$ keeps on; she leans out eagerly, letting
: the lines fall. and clasping her hands
:. while the color comes and goes on hel
4 pale cheeks. She does not see them
Il But then her ewes are dimmed, NJ
g doubt, by the wind and rain and cold
n Stand aside there, gentlemen! She ha
q come to meet them; do you under
q stand?
n She is lifted gently down, and he
n falte.ing steps are supported rs sh'
y moves blindly forward. The pityin:
P crowd parts; two or three men rise hur
d riedly from be ide the things that lii
y white and stark and rigid upon tn
a ground.
. WellP Well, the meeting is over
Is N. N. DaUis, ia Current.
n