Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1886-05-27
At One Soldiers Grave.

lent the way. had ridden miles with
out meeting a human being. Yet it
was a fertile and populous northern
country l was passing through. Big,
roomy farmhouses sat upon shaded hill
tops, fair fields answered the suns
warm glanceS with full crops, and cool
groves dotted the landscape here and
there. under whose dropping branches
the lazy kline stood painting.
entered a bit of cool, damp wood,
and let my horse move at his laziest
pace. enjoyed the shade, but | felt
loneliness and isolation the moment |
was within it. Some woods are CHEEKY
and refreshing, however thick and I'M
penetrable. This was moist. silent and
gruesome. The sandy road was so
damp that my horses feet made no
sound, and that added to the queer
sense of solemnity l felt. | passed
down long, gently sloping hill into a
still more gloomy hollow. Under a
rude little bridge struggling stream
of surface water slowly mendered, with
a melancholy sound, seeking the far-off
seq.
The hill on the other side of the
bridge was sleeper than the one | had
just descended. The top stretched out
into broad table land, nearly half a
mile in length toward the north, though
it shelved off west Of the road about
twenty yards into 6iminutive valley.
To the right, near the road. stood dis
used, ,dilapidatedQuaker meeting house.
When [ saw it | instantly understood
the Impressive loneliness of the wood.
No places are so full of mysteriously
sad influences as those wherein men
and women have dwelt or met and then
abandoned. The loheliest mountain
side is not so lonely as deserted house
though it stand in sight of CHEEKY
homes. I am half afraid Of ghosts in
such places 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, un-
painted, decaying and grim as primi.
tive law, made the gloomy wood still
more desolate. An unfrequeuted road
crosses another a few yards north Of it;
trees sighed about 1t /; moss grew upon
its Iotted roof. and wild grass and
briars clambered about it's sunken door
step. 1t told its mournful story with
out 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 were
scattered or had departed from the faith
of their fathers and belonged TO the
worlds people. I stopped to look at it,
held by a sad fascination.
A shrill whistle interrupted my
reverie, and scattered the ghosts of the
silent landscape. Turning TO my left |
saw boy climbing bitof shaky fence.
The climbing was self-imposing task,
and was evidently INDUCED in for the
sole purpose of adding interest TO the
occasion, whatever il was, since an un-
steady gate swung open but a few feet
far ther on. He wore an enormous
straw hat, gayly decorated with grasses
and roses, and carried in one hand
big basket, heaped full of flowers, old
fashioned flowers, old time roses, May
pinks, lilacs. blue bells, snow balls,
peonies and honeysuckles. The other
hand waved brilliant half-grown flag.
and on the end Of the basket very
small flag had been clumsily sewn.
Altogether, this bright eyed infant
had festal appearance in strong con-
trsst to the gloom and silence of the
scene. He whistled bar from the
"Star-Spangled Banner" emphasizing
it by waving the flag energetically. He
seated 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 meas.
ure of the tune. He struck up, in
shrill treble
l am patriot true sir;
Yes, am yes, l am!
A patriot firm and true, sir;
Yes, am yes / am!
Il dou't doubt it in the least said,
attempting to be soclable; indeed, you
look it every inch
A grimace was his only answer.
Still it was a friendly grimace. His
dignity would not permit him to make
my acquaintance too easily. l must
make all the advances.
Going to a picnic, are you not p
asked, believing that the best way TO
open conversation with him wOuld be
to take some interest in his affairs,
though detest that method as applied
to myself.
'No-a strew,' he answered.
"A what p
"A strew,' he replied, with little
annoyance in his voice, "a Decoration
day strew. Don't you know that this