Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1890-12-25

the cows walk leisurely by on their way
to the barn-yard; but ! was conscious that
the stranger had stopped.
she stands in the same place and looks
Just the same rs she did that morning
but the house, | heard him murmur Il
dashed the tears from my eyes and reeog.
nize6 In that tall stranger, with the long
mustache sweeping his cheek, my brother
who had gone away Il boy four years be-
fore. | ran and flung myself on his
breast and sobbod for joy.
You see brought the cows home again
safely, Eunice, though ! did wait four
years to 10 it, - he said, in the old quiet
way.
He picked me up and carried me to
the little porch out there, and then he
asked.
Where is father, and oh, Eunice,
what has become of our old home?
"'Goner | said. All gone in the
war Father killed in battle, and the
soldiers burned the house.
War my brother cried, what war?
My God, Eunice, what are you talking
about?'
Il looked at my brother, scarcely less
terrified than he. Sam Bradshaw, do
you mean to tell me, | screamed, that
you do not know that this country has
been in civil war for the past four years;
the South against the North; slavery
against abolition?'
my brother sank down on the step in
dazed fashion and covered his face with
his hands This is too much all at once,
he murmured And father fought -
he asked at last
" On the Union side ! replied.
81 noticed then that Sam wore sailor
uniform and not a SoldieISs. was burn
ing to know how he came to be in such
unaccountable ignorance of the state of
things in our country, but | saw that he
was overcome by the tidings that had
Just given him. We sat in this way for
some time, When my brother uncovered
his face he was changed man. His eyes
had dreamy, far away look like as a
man might who should awake sud
denly after a long sleep and find himself
! in a new world, and could not adjust
| himself to the strange, new conditions.
could wait no longer Sam, where have
you been?'
"He started, collected himself and be-
gan: when | left here that morning
|
| Norfolk. ! determined never to return
home again and | did not much care
what became of me so long as | should not
| be obliged to work on farm. In this
frame of mind joined a whaling eXpedi-
ton just starting out for a four years
cruise. In all that time we did not put in
at any regular port; we met no vessels
which gave us any information concern
ing the war. Many a time | regretted
what had done after it was Impossible
to return. As soon as we landed at Nor.
| folk, week ago, | started to walk home.
was so impatient to start that ! did not
even wait for the disposal of our cargo and
the division of our profits. but ! left Nor
folk as had entered it, empty handed. |
! travelled as fast as ! could and spoke to no
one on the road. So learned no news in
! that way
MY story is nearly done, Madam, -
the little woman said with some of that
old-time stately grace which still clings
| to all southern women of the earlier re-
gime. My brother never lost that dreamy
look from his eyes. lie has it STILL He
has never been able to gain his bearings
, in the changed circumstances TO which he
returned that June evening. He settled
with me on cur pitifully small farm. But
he was not fitted TO be farmer; my father
ffTTade TIE OH TTTStdKC, IN sam case, OF
trying to put a square block in a round
hole. Since tEat time, we have grown
poorer and poorer, until we are as you
see us now. And that, Madam, is the
story that flashed through my mind when
you spoke of a-whaeb9ne.
unx.g Cy,I NoJa Nonay