Nevada County picayune., 1889-10-09
HARlEYS ROMANCE.

He was off duty and it was rain
ing-raning in that slow, meditative
way so exasperating TO one waiting
for clear-up.
All night he had walked back and
forth in the misty weather, the white
tents showing in long rows like so
many ghosts in line. But the ghost
like tents hadn't intruded their drip
ping outlines between him and a
picture-the old familiar hills of far
away Connecticut drifted into the in
term. Somehow the murky welkin
receded, war grew SO very vague and
distant, and his native village nearer.
1t was well that he didn't mind, as
he paced to and fro, that his feet
were aching in spite of the exercise.
He was glad, now, that he hadn't
complained, for the ''soldier's box"
which came late last night, was now
being opened, and already nice pair
of comfortable socks had fallen to
him. He would go inside the tent
and put them on; the luxury of a
whole stocking was something simply
sublime. Away with the jags Of
yarn he had been wearing, into a
distant corner, and on went bright
blue sock with a white toe; and now
for the other one.
As Harley's toes settled down to
the enjoyment of home-knit hose,
something seemed to get between
them. off came the sock IN a
twinkling, for he was curious to
know what sort of New England
butterfly had gotten inside and came
all the way to Georgia unframed. 1t
might be a spider. No, it was a
scrap of paper containing few lines
in tiny penciling.
"Wcll. said he, sweet, bright
light kindling in his blue eyes, "this
is what | call romantic. A soldier
vanks off a lot of rags and installs
his pedal eXtremeties into luXuri-
GUS pair of hose, only to draw forth
the sweetest little letter he ever saw.
"Ruthie, | wonder what she is
like"
A refugee, fleeing from Atlanta,
leaves a beautiful home to the rava-
ges of war and finds a haven among
his own native hills.
And This, touching the soft, leecy
articles, is her first pair of socks-she
having learned to knit since going
North-and she sends with them her
love to the soldier boy who gets
them, hoping he will be able to march
to glorious victory in their comfort.
A pleasant thought comes to Har-
ley. He was off duty and 1t was
raining; he would write to "Ruthie,'
thank her for the nice letter and the
luxurious foot, and he would tell her
as much about himself as she had re-
vealed; it would only be civil.
So he wrote, telling her he was an
orphan without sisters to write him
CHEEKY letters, and ended by asking
her to write him occasionally as a
friend, adding that she had no idea
of how much real heaven her letter
of the stocking toe had brought into
his soldiers lot.
The taking of Atlanta is in prog
ress. Among the first to be seriously
wounded is Harley. The ambulance
| rattleS over lne uneven loau anu Joi'o
him into unconsciousness from the
pain and intense suffering. When
he opens his eyes again, he is being
carried into an impromptu hospital
improvised from Il lovely, suburban
home whose battle-scarred doors are
thrown open to receive the brave
bows in blue falling on that terrible
dav. HIS wound, an ugly laceratior
of the thigh by piece of shell, has
been dressed, and he hes rocking
from the open window, measuring
his surferings with truly heroic forti'
tude, and listening to the roar OF hat