Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1886-05-29
AT ONE SOLDIERS GRAVE.

How warm the day was, and how
silent the way. [ had ridden miles with
out meeting human being. Yet it was
fertile and popular northern country [
was passing through. Big, roomy farm
houses sat upon shaded hilltops, fair
fields answered the suns warm chances
with full crops, and cool groves dotted
the landscape here and there, under
whose dropping branches the lazy kline
stood painting.
L entered bit Of cool, damp wood,
and let my horse move at his LATEST pace.
L enjoyed the shade, but felt sense Of
loneliness and isolation the moment I
was within it, Some woods are CHEEKY
and refreshing, however thick and i'm
penetrable. This was moist, silent and
grlesome. The sandy road was so damp
that my horses feet made no sound, and
that added to the queer sense of solem-
nifty felt. Ipassed down long, gently
shopping hill into still more gloomy
hollow. Under a rude little bridge a
struggling stream of surface water slow
ly meandered, with melancholy sound,
seeking the far off sea.
The hill on the other side of the bridge
was sleeper than the one 1 had Just de-
scended. The top stretched out into a
broad table land, nearly half mile in
length toward the north, though it
shelved off west of the road about twenty
yards into dlminutive valley. To the
right, near the road, stood disused, d.
lapidated Quaker meeting house. When
1 saw it 1 instantly understood the i'm
prassive loneliness of the wood. No
places are SO full of mysteriously sad in
iuences as those wherein men and wo-
men have dwelt or met and then aban-
ioned. The lonliest mountain side is
cot SO lonely as deserted house, though
it stands in sight of CHEEKY homes. 1
am half afraid of ghosts in such places
not weird and chilling shapes exactly,
but ghosts of the hopes, joys, sorrows
and sins which were there born and
which there died.
This rude old meeting house, unpaipt-
ed, decaying and grim as primitive law
made the gloomy wood still more Desc
late. An unfrequented road crossed
another few yards north of it; moss
grew upon its rotten roof, and wild grass
and briars clambered about its sunken
doorstep. 1t told its mournfal stor,
without the aid of words. The plainly
habited, honest people who met beneath
its roof in the past had vanished from
the earth, and their descendants we're
scattered or had departed from the faith
of their fathers and belonged to the
worlds people. 1 stopped and looked
at it, held by sacred inclination.
A shrill whistle interrupted my
revere, and scattered the ghosts of
the silent landscape. Turning to my
left 1 saw a boy climbing a bit of shaky
fence. The climbing was self-imposed
task, and was evidently INDUCED in for
the sole purpose of adding interest to
the occasion, whatever it was, since an
unsteady gate swung open but few feet
farther on. He wore an enormous straw
hat, gayly decorated with grasses and
roses, and carried in one hand a big
basket, heaping full of flowers, old time
roses, May pinks, hlacs, blue bells, snow
balls, peonies and honeysuckles. The
other hand waved brilliant half-grown
flag, and on the end of the basket a very
small flag had been clumisly sewn.
Altogether, this bright-eyed infant
had festal appearance in strong con-
trast to the gloom and silence of the scene.
He whistled bar from the "Star
Spangled Banner" emphasizing it by
waving the flag energetically. He seat
ed himself on the top rail Of the fence
and eyed me with some interest, though
pretending not to see me. His bare,
brown feet beat time to the measure of
the tune. He struck up, in shill treble:
am q patriot true, sir;
Yes, am, yes, Iami
a patriot hrm and true sir:
Yes, am; yes, / am!
II don't doubt it in the least" I said.
attempting to be sociable; ssindeed. Won
look 1t every inch"
A grimace was his only answer. Still