Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1888-06-08

prush up my soldier clothes, and. ner.
maps. you'll mend my ragged sleeve
ma am--and I'll hurry along aftor nv,
army, and take one from tho renort of
missing 'oA' VI
He sat up late with the widow and
. nel daughter that warm summer night.
talking with them about the war. about
slle dead soldier OF this little lonely
FAMILY, about his own home and moth
er ana sisters near Burlington, in dis
tant Iowa. He talked we'll and pleas
antly; he did most of the talking: and
attef he had retired, it was Mrs. Cor
ton Who said, with sigh:
1T seems too bad for that dear how
to go back to the army tomorrow.
how beautifully he talked abont your
poor father" -
Mabel was silent.
"But I suppose he must"
The widow thought it hard: vet she
sept with her accustomed serenity.
But Mabel's thoughts kept her awake
till well toward midnight.
The morrow came; breakfast passed.
the soldier busted his uniform, the
widow insisted upon washing It out.
and when it was dried, carefully mend
ed it. Dinner-time was then at hand,
and the guest remained. Mrs. Cor
tons face was serious, Mabel's was
more than serious, as they thought of
the parting at hand; but the guest lin
gered. He talked to them of his duty,
of how glad and surprised "the boys"
would be when they saw him come
back unharmed; but he made no mo-
ton to go. The hearts of the two
women were gladened as he stayed.
This branch of his story need not be
prolonged. For week he fought out
with himself the stern battle between
love and duty-and then he yielded.
Mabel burned up his uniform in the
kitchen stove; the widow, with her
own hands, altered over the dead hus-
bands clothes for him; to the few
and scattered neighbors of that section
who remarked his presence. it was
given out that he was the son of Ken
lucky cousin; and in q fortnight from
the day when he entered this house as
fugitive from the battle, the soldier
and Mabel were united in marriage.
For the next year unceasing torrents
OF soul were his.
Dearly as he loved his young wife,
the reproaches of duty were ever in his
ears. He heard them, waking and
sleeping. He worked the little patch
of ground about the house, and mar
keted its produce with mule and cart
in the city; the theater OF war in this
State was now far removed from this
vicinity; there was nothing but con-
science and memory, and the frequent
Nashville papers that he read, to re.
mind him of the war and of the part
that he ought to be playing i'll it. In
silence lie suffered, ever maintaining
to Mabel and her mother cheerful,
satisfied demeanor. They never knew,
never suspected the stings of disregard
ed duty borne in silence by the ardent
Northern volunteer; and when Mabel
gave him an infant son she and her
mother deemed that his allegiance to
this humble home was fixed beyond
change.
And so it might have been, but for
one of those incidents, suddenly occur
ring. with which the war was filled.
One of General Morgan's Confeder-
ate cavalry raids was threatening the
railroads in this part OF the State; an
infantry brigade from the mon front
was hurried back to the exposed point.
1t SO happened that it embraced the
regiment of the fugitive soldier. Dis
embarking from the cars at point
several miles down the road on which
Mrs. Gorton's house was situated, the
brigade marched past it on it's way to
the threatened point.
In the back yard, so close to the
house that he had seen nothing of this,
our fugitive heard the crash of brass
music. His wife, pale and agitated,
beckoned him in.
"They are Federal soldiers, she said.
"Don't let them sea you."
He went into the front room and
peered through the blinds. With
wildly throbbing heart he recognized
his lost comrades. He saw the dusty
ranks marching by with company
front, each stalwart soldier whom he
had known and loved with musket
on his shoulder His face was white.
mabel, its my brigade, my regi-
mentw lie cried. "Let me go. Unjust
join them"
For answer, she placed his baby in
his arms. The chubby hands patted
his cheeks and played with his hair.
The soldiers head dropped on the win
dow-sill.
Fetch some water, Mabel" said Mrs
Gorton. "He is faint"
He was dead!
A Reminiscence Of the Rebellion.
~ EN-. AVERILL, the