The Press., 1889-12-05
THE LONG LOST QUILT.

''Will you give me drink of water, miss ?s
 The voice suddenly struck On Mamie Barron's ear as she lay in the hammock thinking of all the changes the 'swar" had brought to her and hers, wondering wheth- CT her father and Jack and Tom were safe, wondering if they would ever be all togeth CT again in the dear old home there in Vir- ginia.
 Her incidence was not by any means idle happiness. It was that of sadness, almost of despair, and what was there to do? There were no pleasant visits to be paid !; no material for dainty fancy work to be got; no flowers in the garden to gather ; no new music; no new books. With so many soldiers about-those dreadful Yam kees, too -even a ramble in the pine woods was impossible. Oh, no, there was noth- ing to do but to lie in the hammock and try not to cry. But she had tried in vain this dull grey forenoon, when the curious chill that sometimes prevails in Virginia ble to shiyer little, even though she had leaves made her sad; the whispering there up in the branches, as though there were spirits about.
 s.Could this be she ?" Mamie asked her self. She used to be so happy.
 "Please, miss, will you give me drink of water P said the voice at this juncture. | Mamie lifted herself upon her elbow and saw man looking over the fence. A mau in northern uniform. A little further away two ambulances were slowly moving over the road, and little band of soldiers l all more or less disabled, followed behind. Union, all of them.
 "Well, they've paid for it, any way" she said, vaguely, and, looking at the man who had asked for the drink of water, she saw that he had tpaid for it, too. One of hit arms was gone, the other bandaeed from elbow to shoulder, and this placed her in dilemma.
 She had intended to say: "There is the we'll, but he certainly could not draw water for himself A little while before she had never drawn any, but all the ser wants had vanished like chaff before tn, wind, , and she had discovered many pos sibilities. Humanity compelled her; sh. got out of the hammock, went to the we'll and drew dripping pail full 10 the brink then she filled cocoanut dipper and look ed at him.
 He could not take 1t; so she held it t, his lips and he emptied it at one draught she filled another, it followed the first.
 II haven't words to thank you, said tn man. As he spoke she saw that he wa shivering from head to foot, and that hi lips were blue, that his uniform was thing of 'sshreds," though not of ''patch es;" she could see the skin of his shoul ders, and his elbows came through tn cloth
 Contractors shoddy cloth," he said "Some one took my blanket when wa lying wounded. I'm ashamed of myself but can't help it." :sWhat did you come down here for :? said she. 'sYou deserve it all. But vol are very cold, think"
 ''1ts chill, said he.
 An impulse seized her. She had DO wisI to aid and abet an enemy, but this on scarcely would fight again, and his eye were like Jacks. Poor Jack, where wa , he? She turned and took from the ham mock the quilt she had wrapped about her a rough, uncomely thing, made of tn woolen bits of the servants winter clothes which their mistress always cut out fo them. Not long ago her mother had pieceI and patched it, and she had wondered a her, for they had quilts enough. Bu doubtless it was for employment's sake there was nothing pretty to sew. , "Maybe she meant it for the poor, ; thought Mamie. ''But it can't be needed more than it is now" ''I've got father and two brothers il our army" said she. ''I suppose the, may suffer like you do just now. Its fo the sake of them I do this" She gav the-quilt a twist that transformed it into sort of cloak as she spoke. threw it eve the shivering shoulders, and pinned, ] with pin from her own neck ribbon.
 God bless you," said the man. Ther were tears in his eyes as he turned away and Mamie went indoors, half angry will herself. She threw log of wood acroei the andirons, lit fire and sat down befor, it. In a little while the door opened ant her mother came in. She had been to tn, post office, but there were no letters.
 Mrs. Barron was pale and faded; troubl had worn her out
 One would hardly have known the hand some woman of three years before.
 ''seems like there's nothing but waiting and grieving now," said she. "Mrs. Pierc, has heard that her son.Franklin was hurt
 Mamie sighed. ,'Oh, if fsthe. and tn, boys were only back" said she.
 eff they do come, we rnay have comfor again. said the mother. Mamie, wan to- tell you something you ought to know If anything happens to me you'd have t' know, or it would be no good. You no ticed me making a quilt. Anow, and reckon you wondered what it was for?"
 "Yes, I did," said Mamie. ''I suppos, to be busy, or in case neighbor needed one." J
 "No," said Mrs. Barron. sIt was so W, should be more comfortable if ever the, would come back to us; your pa and thu boys. You know my aunt died up ,nortl spell ago, and went to see -her?'' s'Yes,' said Mamie.
 ''Well, she gave me something then, said Mrs. Barron. :'She gave me two thousand dollars, and I thought I'd bt prudent for once, so just kept it. Whe1 trouble came felt it might be the saving of us. It was in. lots of notes on northern banks, and last week thought that if the, d.d come down on us and take everything they'd find my little cash box sure, and SC I just went and got those patches in tht barrel up in the garrett, and made quil La little one-and can't help thinkin, how Nancy, the seamstress, would have laughed at it, and I just quilted the none, into that If anyone came to rob tn, house I'd put it around me, like I wa cold They'd never want that, and-why Mamie, what ails you ?'
 Nothing" said Mamie.
 live started you, suppose" said thu mother sBut if they ever do come back