San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1892-03-12

II tDGS poor ana HncOftth, Dttt S1e never
grltdged to put her little hands IN mine"
Mrs. Beverley was in the habit of go
ing at least once a month, sometimes
oftener, to the family burying ground,
to see that everything was neat and
trim, and the place free from fallen
twigs and rubbish. 1t was lovely,
peaceful spot, on the crest of the hill
just beyond the orchard, which it over
looked, as well as the house and yard
and magnificent stretch of view made
up of hill and dale and wooded noun
tains and broad shining reaches Of slow
ly flowing river. Around it, instead of
the usual wooden paling. was close
cedar hedge, broken only at the spot
where the gate gave access to what is so
beautifully termed Goods acre" In
the center were three tall cedars. stand
ing 80 as to form triangle, and under
the shadows of their spreading branches
rested the dust of many generations OF
Beverleys.
1t was soft, still, April evening. The
cloudless sky bent lovingly over the
earth, as the bridegroom bends over the
bride, and the earth smiled with the
joyous promise of the season of love and
hope. Soft green things pushed mp
through the brown mold, crocuses
opened golden hearts to the kisses Of the
breeze, violets unfolded white and pur-
pie petals and sweetened the. air with
their fragrant breath, and lilies Of the
valley and snowdrops were waiting coy
ly for the sun to coax and WOO them into
shaking out their snowy bells. On the
hickory. oak and poplar trees downy
little knots of leaves were bursting their
brown shells and coming forth to view
the world. In the budding branches
birds twittered and chirped of love and
housekeeping. and every instinct was
for termination and growth and press
ing upward.
Mary passed through the orchard IN
der the budding apple trees with a feel
ing of peace in her heart that WAS partly
the outcome of deep sympathy with M
ture and partly the atmosphere OF her
own sweet soul. In her hand she car
ried little basket of spring flowers to
lay in loving remembrance on the gray
slab Of granite that covered the grave o!
the tall, fair haired soldier who had
wooed and won her twelve long years
before. and whose blue eyes still gazed
into hers from under little Rams brown
curls
Her mind was full of thoughts Of him
and her mood was soft and tender MS
she opened the gate gently and entered
the sacred spot. She did not glance
about, but passed straight along the lit
tie center walk to the granite slab which
was close to the trunk of one Of the
cedars. She shook out all her flowers
and formed with them wreath around
the short inscription: Hector Beverley
Obiit April, 49,, etat. 35." It was
only when her task was done that she
became aware of the presence of a man
in the corner by the cedar hedge kneel-
ing beside the grave of little child
His back was toward her, and he had
trowel in his hand and large basket
on the ground beside him. from which
he took clumps of green and planted
them on the grave. The breath of vio-
lets filed the air with perfume, and
Mary, attracted in spite of herself, aud
slightly curious, went softly over the
short green grass and stood close behind
him, looking down. She had known at
once that it was Anthony, and seeing
him there beside the grave of her hus-
bands little sister brought to her mind
the thought of the lonely boy, with his
hard, unlovely childhood, and she knew
with one of those swift intuitions women
have, that that boy was kneeling there
at her feet.
Anthony had cleared away the sod
from the center of the mound in the |
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