The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1891-09-09
Selected Storp.
The Little Teacher.

pale face, made still paler by the black
mourning which she wore, the lines of
care which sorrow had wrought, and
the expression of firmuess which
seemed to linger about her mouth.
Among all the sorrows left by war in
that desoated little town, hers was the
saddest. AT home l had heard her
story. The old home in which she
lived, alone with her mother, tad been
one of gaiety and wealth. The only
sister of three older brothers, she was
the pet of household which for miles
around was noted for its hospitality.
Among the many visitors who were
always welcome in the home was Paul
Brandon, one of her brothers college
friends.
Coming at first TO sec her brothers,
he had found greater charm, and sub
sequent visits were made by love under
the cloak of friendship. Where there
were so many eyes, the disguise was
soon perceived, and long before Paul
had even admitted to himself that he
came more to see Mary than her broth
ers, the little maiden had been merci-
lessly leased by the whole family. But
though they leased, Paul had no lack
of silent encouragement, and one day
when he left for his distant home, he
left as the avowed lover of Mary Martin.
When the betrothal had be- made
lblic and after several more protracted
visits to the Martin home had been
made by Paul, day was set for the
wedding. In the meantime more pc.
tent spells had been at work than this
little everyday tale of romance, and be-
fore the time for the wedding came
round a line of bayoneis bristled
between the two homes, the Martin
boys had marched to the front, and
Paul had enlisted with the enemy.
There vas TO direct break between
them, but when her youngest brother
was brought home from the first gre at
battle, dead, with his company's flag
wrapped around his body and tie Joy
for the great victory was gloomed by
d ath, in sisters anguish she felt that
her lover was more than an enemy,
and he could but accept in silence the
letter which came to him through the
lines from the home where he had been
ever welcome-writ.en by the bier of
ter was sent, Mary sat down and cried
LCL C1CS ain JSl Oul-Dul uGNGI MdNEIGu
from what she had written.
So four long years passed. Once, in
battle, Paul and Arthur Martin met,
hand to hand. And the comrades of
neither ever understood why they
flinched and turned pale that once in
all their fighting. 1t was in a breast
works attack, and by an instant but
tacit consent they sprang back and
turned in opposite dire ctions.
When all was over, and the remnants
came marching home, there were three
green graves in the old cemetery, and
three soldier brothers lay sleeping side
by side. And before the winter had
passed, the father joined his boys, and
Mary and her mother were alone.
1t was then that letter came from
the North, asking if Paul might come.
He pleaded earnestly; but with her
sorrow fresh in her memory she felt
that she could not give her baud across
those graves, and no answer ever went.
1t is then that l first remember her,
as she would 90 by in her daily walk to
and from her school. She had begun
the battle for life bravely, and had
opened school, and those who had
known her in better days admired her
brave little heart, and her school was
soon full.
1t was with all the enthusiasm of a
boy of eight years that loved her, and
on her almost daily walks to the ceme-
terry | was her constant companion.
The entrance 10 the confederate bury
ing-grounds was under a large arch,
over which ran a profusion of vines,
and across the arch in bold letters was
the legend, " Tread Softly Der Our
Fallen Heroes" Every spring, on the
day set apart for Memorial day, the
grounds were strewn with all the BIOS
SONS that the season gave, as to the
muffled notes of the dead March q
the whole population Of the little town
came to the foot of the tall shaft which
crowned the highI st knoll to common.
crate the fallen dead.
After her mother, her heart lay in
those graves. No hand but hers ever
kept out the encroaching weeds from
that lot, and in the spring, when the
cedars and pines took on greener hue
and the trailing vines with renewed
freshness ran rank and wild over the
head-stones and tOmbs around, that LOT
was the greenest, and the sod which
grew there was the freshest and sottest
TO be seen in all the rolling space of the
soldiers graves.
To help her in this work, to carry hel
flowers and bring her water from the
well TO sprinkle the grass and shrubs
was to me work of love. Late in the
evening we would stay. Then, wher
the long summer day would begin tC
close around the horizon with its dusky
gray, would watch her as she gathered
up her wrap ana little basket of tools
and as | would look at the soft, girlst
face, so chastened and sabdued, but Sc
beautiful withal, with the lines of grie
merged into the peace of divine sub
mission to her Fathers will, as we woulC
walk silently back through the GENE
terry between the overgrown grasses o.
neglected lots, l would put my hand il
hers, and it seemed as if | were walk
ing with spirit among spirits.
In the spring of 1868 the memoria
sprViraa had haan npnsuallu onlanny