The west Tennessee star. (Bolivar, Tenn.) 1888-1888, 1888-05-25

became MS WIG and the mother OF MS
children.
He had found her in an old mansion
which the Union forces had taken posses
sion OF, caring for an invalid mother, and
covering and trembling with fear, with no
one beside to protect her but an old negro
nanny and her decrepit husband, and his
chiyalric heart went out to her at once as
he treasured and Gained her fears, and
made the invasion as pleasant as possible
under the circumstances The troops were
quartered in the vicinity for a fortnight,
and, when they were ordered on, HOlroyd
Graham carried the heart of the fair
Southern girl away with him and left his
own in her keeping.
The fathers wrath may be imagined
when, upon his sons return from the war,
SCARED from honorable service, he learned
that he was determined to make the penni-
less Southern girl his wife; but the son had
his share Of his fathers firmness, and, after
a fierce quarrel, they parted, the son leav-
ing wealth and home for the sake Of her
whom he loved.
The breach had never been healed, and
HolrOyd Graham, after ten years Of happy
married life, died lingering and painful
death, in consequence Of injuries received
during his army life, leaving his heart
broken wife with Grace mere child, and
the twins, helpless infants, upon her hands
to rear and educate.
The widows pension, which fortunately
was liberal one, suf1iced with the little
which they had accumulated to keep actual
want from the door, and the delicate hands,
which had never been brought up to labor,
performed many an unwonted task for pay,
and she had managed to struggle along I'M
til the children were able to assist her in
small ways but the memory of her soldier
husband was ever kept green in her loyal
heart, and though she had received advan-
] III
for his sake.
She had only written once to the grand
father of her children, telling him when
! and where his son was buried, and opening
/ the way for reconciliation if he wished it,
but he did not reply, and Grace, too, under
/ the pressure of actual need when she saw
| her beloved mother falling under her bur
dens, had ventured little pleading letter,
which also went out upon its way, but
/ brought no response.
/ 1t was evening, and the lamps cast soft
| glow over the elegant room which was
fitted up for library in a luxurious home
/ many miles from the widow and her chill
/ dren. One side was filed with valuable
/ collection of choice books, the other was
| devoted to rare specimens of art in paint
ing and sculpture, while in corner niche
stood a grand piano. bearing mute testi-
mony to the fact that the room had echoed
| to music in other days.
The owner of-all this luxury sat by a cen
ter table, his face buried in his hands, and
his eyes fixed upon letter which lay be
fore him, accompanied by a picture upon
| which he looked with raOistened eyes. II
| was the Widows letter, and HOlrOyd Ora
| ham looked upon it as one in dream. 'tAll
| alone. All alone" he said aloud, at last,
"and he whom l relied upon as a staff for
! my declining years is buried far away from
me, and l have never ever seen the spot
| where he lies, or the faces Of those whom
he loved most"
He looked sadly about him. Gan this
wealth and luxury is as empty huslks to
| me in my loneliness, and would give it all
| for one look into the hon est blue eyes OF
/ my boy, one grasp of his warm hand, but
have nothing but his distant grave which
other hands than mine viii decorate Oh
Memorial Day; others will honor the brave
boy whom / sent out from my heart and
home for his country's sake"
An indescribable longing came into his
heart to see for himself the spot where his
son lay, If no more, and tonight, in his
softened mood, there was no hardness in
his heart toward the widow and the father
less children of his son. 1t was not large
town where the widow Graham lived, so il
was not large or imposing procession
which filed away to the cemetery on Me
mortal Day. 1t had been patriotic town,
as the number of little flags flying above
the graves testified.
1t was always a sad day for the widow
and to-day she shed bitter tears as the mar
tial music announced that the procession
had started for the cemetery.
These sounds always smote upon her cal
like a l1nell, reminding her of the dreadful
war times, when father, brother and LOVED
ones We're every day adding their names L
the roll call of regiment and companies a
the recruiting offices. True. she had beer
more fortunate than many being more
nearly alone in the world, but even she haC
seen beloved father brought home
TO die, and an invalid mother fade away
| like IA shadow under the affection, and the
fife and drum had weird, dark memory in
its notes for her which time could never
efface.
The flowers were lavishly scattered, tn,
salutes were fired and the main body of tn,
procession slowly filed out of the cemetery
gates but still the twins fingered by tn,
grave which they especially loved to homo
in memory Of the father whose form an'
face had long since passed from their re
membrance. IL was pleasant place Il
them, shaded by many trees and watered b,
purling brook, from which the groun'
took its name, "BrOokside."
Loving hands kept it in neat repair, anC
rustic seats and letting fountains made it
]
tive hour
They were picking away a few stra,
weeds and polishing the white marble o
the neat stone which marked the grave
when "A stranger appeared; he was tall an,
| erect, with snowy hair and keen eyes, ant
as he drew near he fixed his gaze ON Holl,
with an eager look which drank in ever,
| feature of the boyish face as the thirst,
| wayfarer drinks from a cooling spring
There was no need TO establish the child
| identity for every feature proclaimed il
and the old mans eyes filled with tears a
he drew near and laid his trembling han,
on the sunny head asking, gently; "What i
your name, my sonln
'sHolroyd Graham, sir" was the boy
reply, looking up in the stin handsome an,
aristocratic face of the stranger in sur
prise.
'iAnd who is this little maids" Tftin
FredT's chin and looking earnestly into tn
brown sves so like those of the mother.
"This IL Freda. sir, and we are twins,
replied wondering Holly.
"Aud where is the mother this Lowell.
day."
' Mamma is sick, sir, and we ar
afraid''-and the boyish face cont acte'
! with swift spasm of pain, for evel hi
light heart had become Swallowed by tn
knowledge that soon, only too soon, Their
would be two graves in the green cemeter
| TO cherish.
"And there is a Grace, too, is Their
/ not .' and the strangers voice grew ten
der and pitiful as he thought Of the littl
letter in his desk at home, and earnestl.
wished he had come long ago.
a but Grace must stay with mamma; sht
coughs so dreadfully we can not leave he
alone, replied Freda, timidly.
The unsuspicious children talked o.
! without "a thought of COncealment, unit
, the tall stranger was in full possession o
, the family history, with its pitiful strug
, giles and discouragements, 50 far as they uu
I al self