The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1892-05-25

tie and from the town the strains OF that
same dirge, faint but yet filled with
sense of awful pain. She put her hands
over her ears and still knelt, while her
face grew paler, and the shadows of the
pines near by cast their black cloaks
about her; the silence, the loneliness, the
sentiment of the place, overpowered her
and she started to her feet. But, recov-
ering again, she took from basket
great, loose, creamy roses and heaped
them about the tiny cotton flag and
seemed to ponder till q big tear slowly
rolled down each cheek and a sob con-
vulsed her shapely shoulders. She threw
herself on her knees again, with her face
in her hands, while the sun sunk and
the solemn, almost weird, music throb-
bed softly but clearly about her.
Hers was not an unusual romance Of
that time; she had merely loved and
her love had not returned to her at the
final mastering out. The grave by
which she now stood, however, was not
that Of the lover, for she did not even
know that he was dead. All that she
did know was that the two brothers,
Charles and Herbert Milford, had
marched away side by side she had
loved Herbert, but they had never
spoken Of 1t, and so he left; Charles
came back to die, and she was now at
his grave; but she never knew where
Herbert was, and-and she could never
forget him. Thus the grave of the
brother had become to her q place Of all
purity-a communion with the dear
dead past-and where she went to kneel
at the shrine Of her old love.
Twenty-Five years had gone by and
her heart had not changed; so, as she
sobbed there in her holy OF holes, she
did not note how even the faithful
mother had gone. and how the calm,
white moon had slowly climbed up and
was pouring its gracious benediction
over each little flag bed, seem
ing to say:
Sleep on, oh, weary soul! Thy sum-
mons has not yet come"
man came slowly up to the open
gate of the graveyard-a man Of proba-
bly, 80, yet his face was older than his
walk would lead one to expect. His
head had fallen on his breast and he
walked slowly, as IL in a reverie. 1t
seemed so good to get back again to the
home which he had last seen through o
mist OF tears as.he had waved his cap
and pointed proudly to the gay, new flag
twenty-five years before.
His had been busy life since and he
smiled little once, saying to himself
that he was growing sentimental when
he, the president Of q mammoth manu-
factory in the East, had stopped off at
this little Western town just because
the sight Of it as he was passing through
had brought up his boyhood and memo
ries OF dark-eyed girl who had, after
all, loved his brother as some one wrote
him when Charles had died. No, he
didn't care now whom she loved. Only
then, he had hoped she loved him a
little then. But now-now; why, he
hadn't any heart now. Its all turned
into stocks and gold," he laughed a
little TO himself as he patted his broad
chest. However the laugh was not a
very hearty or satisfied one after all.
Thus he argued to himself as he
went on, following the directions given
him by boy in the town. and stepped
cautiously about to the place at the foot
Of the hill. The old scorn had died out
and the world was forgotten; he lived
again the days OF his youth and loved
his brother and drew his life from the
eyes Of one young girl.
So he continued until at his feet he
saw figure lying with the arms thrown
out over the pale roses, and with the
calm face turned full to the moonlight.
He noiselessly stepped nearer and bent
above her. Her low, regular breathing
showed that she was sleeping, and
! teardrop cleaned like diamond on
each dark lash. He knelt and brushed
the grass from the face Of the stone,
and read:
CHARLES MILFORD"
1T Is she, he murmured. "She did
love him and thus she comes to him.
Long and earnestly he looked at her
quiet face, like an angels in the white
moonlight; then, gently, noiselessly, he
bent and pressed his lips to her snowy
hair. Just for a moment, when he
sprung up and FASTENED away as IL
guilty of some crime laughing nervously
through his white lips, as he whispered:
She is his wife and has no thought Of
me. / shall go back TO the world, for
even the world is never so false as
woman"
While she, little later, awoke with q
cry at finding herself alone so late In
this beautiful, awful waste and ran
wildly out to the street, her white hands
pressed to her throbbing temples, while
her cold lips quivered and cry, like the
cry of wounded bird, rose TO them:
Il slept and dreamed that Herbert
came TO me and kissed me. Obi why
was 1t all a dream?"
Angels OF mercy are always lowering
over us, but sometimes they only flutter
near TO us, instead OF covering us safely
in the loving protection of their wings.
A Gigantic Temple.
In Seringham, India, is the larg.