Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1885-04-23

many, many leagues from where the
soldier lived. beyond a broad tempestu-
Gus ocean. She was not, as you might
suppose, little child, although the sol-
der spoke of her as such. She was a
wife and mother, yet even in her wo-
manhood she was to the soldiers heart
the same little girl the soldier had held
upon his knee many and many time
when his rough hands weayed prairie
flowers in her soft, fair curls. And the
soldier called her Nellie now, just as he
did then, when she sat on his knee and
prattled of her dolls. This is the way
of the human heart.
An old cOmrade came and pressed his
hand. and told of the time when they
went to the wars together, and the old
eomrade told of this battle and of that,
an0 how such victory was won and
such city taken. But the soldiers ears
heard no sound of battle now, and his
eyes could see no flash of saber nor
no smoke of war.
/
of veneration and love and hope,
and so with quietude, but with hungry
heart the soldier waited for Nellie, his
little girl.
She came across the broad, tempetu>
Gus ocean. The gulls flew far from the
land and told the winds, and the winds
flew further still and said to the ship:
speed on, o, shipl speed on in thy swift'
straight course, for you are bearing a
treasure to fathers heartP'
1t having been noised about that the
soldier was dying and that Nellie had
been sent fer across the sea, all the peor
pie We'd with each other in soothing the
last moments of the famous man, for he
was beloved by all and all were bound
to him BY bonds of patriotic gratitude,
since he had been so bravea soldier upon
the battlefields of his country. But the
soldier dtd not heed their words of SYM
pathy; the voice of fame which, in the
past had stirred a fever in his blood and
fallen most pleasantly upon his ears
awakened no emotion in his bosom now.
The soldier thought only sf Nellie, and
he awaited her coming.
Then the ship leapt forward in her
pathway, and the waves were very still,
and the winds kept whispering, Speed
on. o sbip," till at last the ship was COM
ing to port and the little girl was clasp
ed in the soldiers arms.
Then for a season the soldier seemed
quite himself again, and the people said,
He will liye," and they prayed that he
might. Bnt their hopes and prayers
were vain. Deaths seal was on the
soldier, and there was no release.
The last days of the soldiers life were
then beautiful of all. But what a
mockery of ambition and fame and all
the grand, pretentious things of life
they WERE They were the triumph Of
a human heart, and what is better or
purer than that!
No thought of the hundred battles
fields upon which his honor had shene
conspicuous came to the soldier now
not the echo of his eternal fame, nor
even yet 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
yonder is the swale with a legion Of
chattering blsckbirds perched on its
swayihg reeds and rushes. Bright wild
flowers bloom on every side, the quail
whistles on the pasture fence, and from
his home in the chimney corner the
cricket tries to chirrup and echo to the
loenly bird s call. In this little prairie
home we see man holding on his knee
a little girl, who is telling him of her
play as he smooths her fair curls or
strokes her tiny velvet hands; or per-
haps she is singing him one of her baby
songs, or asking him strange questions
of the great wide world that is so new
TO her; or perhaps 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.snd they hear
the blackbird's twitter and the erieket's
faint echo and the quai's shrill call, and
all about them is the sweet, subtle, holy
fragrance of memory.
And so at last, when death came aud
The soldier fell asleep forever, Nellie.
MS little girl, was holding his hands and
to him of those days. Hers
we're the last words he heard, and by
he smile that rested on his face when
le was dead, you might have thought
The soldier was dreaming of time when
Nellie prattled on his hnee and babe
him weave the wild flowers in her curls-
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