The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1891-05-21

->SSAt oAA"o AN AAoA JoAASo SO1' al LII
strong's volunteers and was already
many miles away.
The blow fell with crushing weight
upon her aching heart, but she was
proud, and to hide her disappointment
accepted the attentions of young
Lenox, the man above all others she
most despised.
Hugh did not write as she hoped he
would, and in the letters that came
back to other associates he never so
much as mentioned her name.
He had left his mother in the care Of
his brother Ben, and Ben's wife, who
was something of a gossip, kept him
well posted concerning Marion Jewell's
Irritation. Hugh endured the torture
in silence, until the thoughtless woman
repeated the report of wedding close
at hand, and then he begged her never
again to mention the name of Marion
Jewell, a name that had once been so
dear to him.
Marion's eyes lost their sparkle and
her face grew thin and white with her
weary waiting, but she never COM
planned, and except that she was a
trifle more thoughtful than in old days,
no outward change was visible in her
conduct.
When Thane Lenox went back to the
city people said that he had grown tired
of the rustic beauty and had cast her off
just as she had done poor Hugh, and they
did not pity her either. But they were
wrong, for his going was great relief
to her, and had they known her loyalty
to their favorite, they would have been
more considerate in their censure.
The report that came back from time
to time of Hugh's conduct on the battle
field proved that he was anything but
a coward, and Others besides Marion
had cause to regret the hasty words
they had spoken in the days gone by.
The months dragged slowly along I'M
til two whole years were gone, and
Marion was beginning to look forward
to the time when Hugh's time would
expire, but her days of waiting ended
suddenly, when, with the news of the
conquest on Lookout mountain she
learned that Hugh's life had been part
of the price paid for the victory. That
he had died at his post did not ease the
pain at her heart, and after the pine
box containing what his comrades sent
home as his mangled body was laid
away by the side of his dead kindred,
she shed many bitter tears over the fresh
made grave.
But Hugh Curtis did not sleep in that
quiet tomb, for far away under south
ern sky he tossed to and fro upon his
couch in a prison hospital. He was
not exchanged until the war closed, and
then, knowing that his friends had
long ago given him up as dead, he deter
mined never to undeceive them, but to
make for himself a lonely home in the
sunny south.
The years came and went until more
than a score was gone, and yet in all
that time Hugh had never heard word
from the old home, nor looked upon a
face that was once familiar. Still he
was restless and disconnected, and the
yearning in his heart for the old home
and old associates was at times almost
beyond endurance.
One morning-it was in May, 1882
just twenty-one years after Marion had
spurned him from her as a coward, he
determined to crafty his longings by
paying visit to his native town.
There was some delay in the journey,
butearly on the second morning after he
left his southern home he stepped up
on the platform of the little hamlet
where his boyhood days had been spent.
The village itself had not changed
much, but all the faces he looked into
were strange, and no one seemed to
recognize the gray-haired man passing
along the quiet street. At first he did
not understand the meaning of the
flags and flowers that were displayed
in such profusion on almost every
dwelling, but after moments thought
he recollected that it was the soth of
May, Decoration day in the north.
Not wishing to disturb Ben's folks SO
early in the morning, he turned into
the cemetery to read the names upon
stones that had been placed there since
he went away.
81 wonder if there are any new
graves in our old burying ground,'' he
Sdiu dlouu, cTOSSluS over u The OCner
side of the cemetery. ''Ah, there is
one--a soldiers grave, he said, STOPPING
down to read the name on the marble
slab. ''My God! It is my own epitaph
I am reading" he exclaimed, start
ing back quickly. .,.S ...~
just at that moment a slight figure,
carrying a cross m ade entirely of white
flowers. came through the pine thicket
beyond, and laid the Offering on the
grave-his grave.
She did not utter a word, but tears
fell thick and fast over that grave, dug