Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1885-08-15

little girl the soldier had held upon hi
knee many and many time while hn
rough hands weaved prairie flowers II
her soft, fair curls. And the soldier call
ed for Nellie now, just rs he did then
when she sat on his knee and prattled o.
her dolls. This is the way Of the human
heart
1t having been noised about that the
soldier was dying and that Nellie hao
been sent acroes the sea, all the people
We'd with each other in soothing the las'
moments of the famous man, for he was
beloved by all and all were bound to him
by bonds of patriotic gratitude, since ne
had been 50 brave soldier upon the
battlefelds of his country. But the SOL
der did not heed their words of sym
patty; the voice Of fame, which In the
past had stirred fever In his blood and
fallen most pleasantly upon his ears
awakened no emotion In his bosom now:
The soldier thought only Of Nellie, and
he awaited her coming.
An old comrade came and pressed his
hand, and talked of the times When
they went 10 the Wars together; and the
old comrade told of this battle and OF
that, and how such victory was won
and how such a city taken. But the SOL
dier's ears heard no sound of battle now,
and his eyes could see no fash of sabre
or smoke Of war.
So the people came and spoke words
of veneration and love and hope, and SO
with quiet fortitude, but with hungry
heart, the soldi waited for Nellie, his
little girl.
She came across the broad, tempestu-
| Q.,u fop
land and told the winds, and the winds
blew further still and said: Speed on .
ship. speed on in thy swift, straight
course, for you are bearing treasure to
fathers heartp
Then the ship leaped forward in her
pathway, and the waves weravery still,
and the winds kept whispering: Speed
on, o ship" till at last the ship was come
to port and the little girl was clasped in
the soldiers arms.
Then for season the soldier seemed
quite himself again, and people said The
will live" and they prayed that he
might. But their hopes and prayers
were vain. Deaths seal was on the sol
dier d there was no release.
The last days of the soldiers life were
the most beautiful of all-but what
mockery of ambition and fame, and all
the grand pretentious things Of life they
were! They were the triumph of hu-
man heart, and what is better or purer
or sweeter than that?
No thought ofthe hundred battlefields
upon which his valor had shown con-
spicuous came to the soldier now-nor
the echo of his eternal fame-nor even
vet the murmurs of sorrowing people
Nellie was by his side, and his hungry,
fainting heart fed on her dear love and
his soul went back with her to the years
long ago.
Away beyond the western horizon
upon the prairie stands little home
over which the vines trail. All about it
is the tall, waving grass, and over yon-
der is tie vale with legion of chatter
ing black BIRDS perched on the swaying
reeds and rushes. Bright wild flowers
bloom on every side, the quail whistle
on the pasture fence, and from his home
in the chimney corner the cricket tries
to chirrup an echo to the lonely bird
call. In this little prairie home we see
a man holding on his knee a little girl,
who is telling him Of her play as be
her fair curls or strokes her
tiny velvet hands; or perhaps she is
singing him one of her baby songs, or
asking him strange questions of the great
wide world that is new to her; or per- |
haps he binds the wild flowers she has |
brought into little nosegay for her new
gingham dress, or-but we see it all, and |
SO, too, does the soldier, and so does |
Nellie, and so they hear the black birds |
twitter and the quail's shrill call and |
the cricket's faint echo, and all about |
them is the sweet, subtle, holy fragrance
of memory.
And so at last when Death came and |
the soldier fell asleep forever, Nellie, his
little girl, was holding his hand and
to him of those days. Hers
we're the last words he heard, and by
he smile that rested on his face when
1e was dead you might have thought
he soldier was dreaming of time when
Nellie prattled on his knee and babe him
weave the wild flowers in her curls.