Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1892-05-26


like a tender sob pulsating gently TO the
place of the dead.
Only a few black-robed women and a
little group of old soldlers-this one
minus an arm and that one leaning
heavily on his worn crutch-remained in
the little graveyard. and soon they, too,
departed. leaving only two persons-a
bent old mother IN distant corner, and
a tall, stately woman, standing, as If
waiting. in the deep shade OF a gloomy
pine.
1t was the most peaceful, the most
neglected, the most lovely spot on earth.
Nearly every stone had flag or q sword
cut in its face, and each name bore af
ter it the Twelfth - Volunteers.
At first the most solicitous care had
kept the mounds smooth and the paths
open, but time had gone by and now
each grave had sunk to a hollow trench
down whose sloping sides the long grass
trailed and across which the stained
marble slaps had long ago broken; the
vines, once planted by tender hands,
had reached caressingly out and bound
all in impartial embrace; flowers forgot
where they had stood originally, and
tall trees looked out upon the once
young shrubs now bidding fair to rival
the old ones.
This evening each narrow grave bore
a tiny flag and its load OF sweet bios
SONS; men, long since forgotten at all
other times, were hunted out and honored
on this one day Of the year by offerings
from the hearts and the hands OF their
old comrades; a sweet OdOr OF fading
flowers filed the warm air, and soft
golden afterglow tinged the tips OF the
pines and q gentle breeze waved the
little flags standing loyal and true even
in their humble places.
When all had left excepting the sob
bling mother in the farthest corner, the
tall woman stepped out and quickly
picked her way over the thick-leaved
plants and tangled vines to a long grave
at the foot of the hill. Here, also, was
an air Of the absence OF human care, and
yet it seemed happier and truer in its
transition back to nature. 1t was only
a part OF the harmony of the place for
its stone to be lost under q large, way
ward rose-bush; q closely cut sward
would have been a cruel discOrd-
The woman slowly knelt, laid aside
the little black bonnet as If TO let the
slowly stirring air cool her hot forehead,
and reverently bent her lips to the grass
above the head. The last rays of the
sun stole softly up and fell tenderly on
her face and lighted 1t, showing eyes
beautifully sad and patient, a mouth
wonderfully sweet, and low. fair fore
head, from which were brushed back
wave upon wave OF soft snowy hair.
White hair will soften and halloW any
face, but here 1t seemed a crown, a halo
for one as pure and lovely as a saint.
But even its silver did not deceive one;
there was a certain youth, in spite of
the look Of suffering, that kept one from
judging her as Old-a youth, borrowed,
perhaps, from the past in which she al
ways lived, If one might guess by the
pleading. dreaming eyes.
From the country. stretching away be-
hind her. came the far-on lowing OF cat
tie and from the town the strains Of that
same dirge, faint but yet filled with a
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 clo6ks
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 a basket
great. loose, creamy roses and heaped
them about the tiny cotton flag and
seemed to ponder till a big tear slowly
rolled down each cheek and q 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 anO
her love had not returned to her at the
inal musterlng-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 it, and so he left; Charles
came back to die, and she was now al
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 a place OF al
,pux1tT-a communion with the dear