St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1886-02-27

couldn't sleep, an there you was at the
window looking out, so l went back to
bed an didn't 'sturb you, Aunt Hope. "
Are you at last in love, Hope!'
asked one of her sisters, laughing.
No" said Hope, simply. Then she
| sat silent awhile.
When she spoke again, her blue eyes
were looking across the wheat fields to
the distant line of hills.
Mother" she said softly, Il have
decided a question which has troubled
me very much lately. Away off be-
yond those hills lie the battle-fields and
the camps where our wounded men are
lying. dying day after day because there
are so few to nurse them back to life.
You have my sisters here, can be of
SO little use to you or them, and it is
my duty to 60 and do what l can for
our soldiers. Do not try to d;ssuade
me, as they started up in surprise and
horror. MY mind is made up to do
this thing, and | must go. / have
written to one of the nurses. and she
tells me gladly to 60. You can not
miss me. and perhaps as there are so
few there, can be of some little serv-
ice"
And so she went; unclasping the
clinging fingers of the children, smiling
back at the group gathered on the rose
twined piazza of the time-worn home
stead, over whose threshold her light
feet had SO often passed and so gaily.
How strange the old home seemed
without her. How plainly the big
rooms told of the absence of a small,
gentle woman. whose voice and ewes
not being there, left so little music and
sunshine.
Yet" they said, comforting one
another. Hope was SO helpless and
weak. she surely can not stand the
strain on her strength, or be of any use
there in the hospital tents on the battle
field. and will soon return"
But the days and weeks went by and
still Hope Harris did not return. worn
and weary, to the old farmhouse, as
her parents and sisters and friends ex.
pected. Instead. she fitted in and out,
TO and fro, among the soldiers living
helpless upon the rude beds, like an
angel of mei icy. with eyes like the
skies, and hair like stray CLEANS of
sunshine.
She grew brave in the midst of danger.
Her real womanly nature asserted itself
as she ministered to the wounded and
dying. There she found her work
which had slipped past her at home.
Her hands were small, perhaps, and
slender, but strength lay under the
delicate blue-yeined flesh, while there
reposed in the dainty finger-tips
magic power that charmed away many
headache from broad. manly brows.
A woman's hand is an exquisite poem,
with rare, sweet rhythm in curves and
lines
The hands of Hope Harris were small
and womanly, but the work they ac-
complished was wonderful work
Two sturdy young men were wounded
and brought to the tents one day. the
one with his right leg gone, the other
minus his left arm.
A nurse was needed. The surgeon
called for Nurse Harris. and without
one word OF warning or preparation,
little Hope. white-faced, but steady,
bent over the bedside where lay broad
John.
''Hoper' he cried, amazed, starting
up only to fall back helpless among the |
pillows. the red blood staining the torn |
blue sleeve, while Hope. her lips trem-
bling. but with steady hands, helped
the surgeon in his work of dressing the
terrible wound. And when that was
and the big fellow lying quiet,
they went to the other poor soldier. |
and up into Hopes set face looked the |
bonnie blue eyes and features, stern |
from pain-of him who had been his
mothers pride and darling-glad-
hearted, mischief-loving Jim!
The surgeon said afterward that he
wondered how she stood it, so dainty
md SO small she looked, bending above
he painfully set face of the man living
helpless before her, and added. as
lie brushed something from his eyes,
hat the hungry look on the big
CLOVIS face as she leaned down to
linn was enough to make the hardest
leart ache. But the recovery of the
wo young fellows, he said, was en-
irely due to the lntiring care of the
,entle nurse. While away off in the
Hope was blessed with tears
md prayers for the good that she had
lone.
And when the battle was over and all
net around the hearthstone in the big
bound in rose vines, the
learts of each and all swelled with un-
tterable love and gratitude to the
mall, golden-haired, blue-eyed little
ady. who ever afterward was tenderly
herished as "our Hope" to never
gain be ''only Hoper'-F. r. Ludlun,
y the Wonaan's Magazine.