Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1891-10-02

who that lady ISL"
"That is Miss Mary" answered, ebut
she must not be spoken to now"
'sAnd why?" he asked.
Because she is alone with her dead, .
replied, for she used to say those words to
me when | would want to help her II her
work mo, DEAR" she would say, sit is
my own work, and | would rather be left
alone with my dead
At this, with look Of sadness and pity
on his face, he stepped softly past me and
walked across the lawn to where she was
sitting, with the soft light of the setting
sun touching her golden hair and Iliu'
rlinating her sweet, fair face.
She did not see him until he spoke to
her; and then, with quick glance, she
half rose, but sank down again and bowed
her head.
I could hear him speaking rapidly as he
bent over her, but she only held her head
against the railing and would not look up.
saw him take her hand, and raising her
up look into her face Then she broke
down, and resting her head on his shout
der, cried as if her heart would break.
And as he stood with his arm around
her sadly, but with the happiest expires
sion on his face, somehow | felt as if all
was well; SO | went down to them and
softly touched her hand. l.
AT my touch she raised her head from
his shoulder, and CHI such a sweet smile
she gave me. Then turning to him she
said:
''This is my little sweetheart, Paul. Are
you jealous?"
He laughed and then bent over and
kissed her, and she stopped and kissed me.
H. H..
tween us and he holding one hand and
the other.
The wedding was held at the old homs
place, and all the school was invited In
her plain white dress she looked as pure
and unsullied as flower, and never had |
seen her face so beautiful. The traces Of
the years of care were there, but the con
trast only heightened the effect.
And after the ceremony was over, and
she had told us all goodby, she bent over
and kissed me, saying, with tears in her
eyes, "But l love you best, my little
knight, and will remember you always"
But this was all many years ago, and
love to hear of her, more matronly now,
and bearing on her face the sympathetic
touches of mothers love as she moves
in the world which surrounds her. and
making it brighter to those across whose
pathway her life lines have fallen.
The graves on the slope are still green in
the spring, and every Memorial Day, as the
years run on their course, when the crowd,
which is less reverent and more noisy now
than of old, has celebrated the day with
speeches and salvos of guns, and has fol
lowed the band back to the city of the liv
ing, now a city indeed, love to watch the
same hands, still deft and nimble, train the
vines DIP the shaft which has supplanted
the small headstones. the setting sun still
falls with its alchemic light on her hair
now streaked with gray, as she prays to
the same God who sustained her through
her years of sorrow to bring her at last
with her loved ones to the same goal of all
her earthly hopes, whittier the spirits of
those over whose graves she bends her
head, have preceded her.
And by her side, as she bends her head in
prayer, stands one who bears her name,
and on whose face her old expression rests.
In that resemblance lies for me the realiza-
ton of one, at least, of my childhood's
sweetest dreams.-Max Halifax in Atlanta
Constitution.