Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1886-03-03

Harry never knew, but certain it was
that the worthy clergyman permitted
the calls, though he himself never ap-
peared.
One morning Latimer had overtaken
Catherine on one of her daily rides
across the country. which no fear of
foe could induce her to abandon. He
looked older and sterner than she had
ever seen him before. After riding by
her side for some time in silence, he
began
''Iwas just coming to bid you good-by.
News of the advance of superior Con-
federate force necessitates the removal
of our troops to the Union lines at
c."
A sudden shadow fell over the fair
young face of his companion.
"Yes?" Her voice had pathetic
culver.
catherine, using her name for the
first time, lido you care that we must
part? Oh, if this cursed war were over!''
They had reached the house; he as
sisted her to dismonnt, and for one
brief moment he held her to his heart.
''My love!' he cried.
"Hush!-wait, she answered. my
father-you and he are enemies. -
And with hand-clasp she was gone.
With heavy heart he turned away,
and ere many hours had elapsed he.
with his troops, was with the main d.
vision of the Union army But as the
days passed he did not cease to
think of the dauntless little Virginia
maiden. The episode, he felt, was one
of the might have beens'' in his event.
full life. And Catherine Wood, when
she saw the Confederate gray in place
of the blue coats, felt kind of fierce
pang which was not from loyalty to her
cause, whereupon. as penance, she set
herself resolutely about preparing the
best her domestic skill could offer for
the officers whom her father insisted
on quartering in his own HOUSEHOLD.
But when one, the most eligible from
her fathers point of view, succumbed
to her charms and urged an acceptance
of his suit, she fatty refused acquies-
cense, much to her parents displeasure.
The war with it's varying fortunes
dragged to a close. At the downfall
of the Confederacy MIR. Wood was as
Ouo StuuuCu, uoVC1 III a uOluClO udtA
he admitted the possibility of a failure
of the cause he loved so we'll. The
shock proved too much for his extreme
| ly nervous organization, and though
watched over with the tenderest care,
he was soon laid by the wife of his
youth.
Fortunately, the clergyman's ample
property had been invested in such a
way that the war had not materially
| diminished it, and he felt the satisfac-
ton of leaving his daughter well pro-
vided for.
As time passed, and her loneliness
grew greater each day, she yearned
for the companionship of true friend;
accordingly, at the. urgent request of a
married schoolmate, Catherine resolved
on visit to her home in Philadelphia.
The six years that had interviewed
since the beginning of the war had ma
tured the girl of twenty into grace
full, self-possessed woman; woman to
whom the unfortunate instinctively
turned, and never in vain. Entirely
without kindred, a disposition that
chung to few firm friends, conscious
that the one chance of happy home
life for her had been forfeited, she re-
solved to live for those less fortunate,
from worldly point of view, than her.
| SELF
One day, at her request, her friend
accompanied her to a certain hospital
on - street. Oh, the pitiable wrecks
of humanity lying there, cared for
through charity! Catherine, whose
quiet village home had never afforded
such a scene, paused, sick and faint.
A mans upturned face on the cot by
which they stood met her gaze. The
great blue eyes-they were a dark,
beautiful blue-were eagerly scanning
her every movement. The thin white
lips trembled perceptibly beneath the
heavy mustache, while the unshaven
beard rendered more pallid the already
bloodless complexion.
Catherine caught the fixed, eager
look he bent upon her.
"What is it, my poor fellow?' she
said, answering the mute appeal in his
| eyes.
You are sorry for us?" he replied
in weak voice. "Your face has the
pity of an angel. You are the same as
of old.'
He is wandering,'' she thought;
but she was not prepared for the
change that swept over him.
"Oh, my God, that I should have
fallen so low!'' he groaned. ''Home-
less, friendless, a drunkard sustained
by charity! Oh, Catherine Wood, that
| you should come here to witness my
great degradation.
He seized her hand.
"Have you no remembrance of me?
Have you quite forgotten Harry Latti-
ago?'
She sat downin chair by the bed,
while her friend and the nurse consid-
erately withdrew. A rush of old mem
cries came over her. This poor, for
saken fellow the handsome young cav
airy officer she had never ceased to
remember!
Il did not know you,'' she began
gently. ''You are indeed changed,
but your kindness in the past have
never forgotten
Il would not have spoken" he said
wistfully, ''but longing for human
sympathy I could not resist seized me,
and read pity in your face for US all.
But there is none now so low as to call
me friend"
''Do not say so,'' she urged. "But
tell me of your life since we parted. -
1T is but short story. Soon after
that was made prisoner, and held
till the close Of the war. My health
broken, sought my Northern home,
only to find death had claimed my only
relatives. Friends had grown cold.
Homeless. almost an invalid. [ sought
for employment suited to my strength,
but in vain. l fell in with evil COM
panlons, for they at least did not pass
me by on the other side. Like COW
ard Idrank to drown trouble. Helpless
at last, Twas picked upon the street and
brought here, pauper. Now you
know all, you cannot but despise me.