The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1894-09-20
LOVES SACRIFICE.

A little restaurant overlooking the San
Antonio river. Two men, with chairs
tilted back and feet against the protecting
rail of the balcony, were smoking their
evening cigarettes. Both were young and
of goodly presence. Western suns and
winds had tanned their cheeks and burned
in the red of youth to rich tropic hue
Across the brow of one-a brow whose
boyish contour moved women with mother
instincts to sudden longing to caress-lay
loose waves of soft, yellow hair. Beneath
looked out eyes of dark gray, heavy with
the long thoughts of those early, desperate
days-days when republic worked out in
blood her long probation. The other had a
fairer countenance, more lghtsome and
full of happy promise.
Superadded tonight to his native exuber-
ance was some foreign eliment of joyous
ness which seemed to master spirit and
muscles alike. He was full of movement.
Tossing away half finished cigarette, he
clasped his hands back of his curly head
and broke the silence with sudden speech.
'sNed, I am too happy to smoke. am
the happiest man in all this borderland.
Nellie Herndon has promised to be my
wife. It's secret yet, but couldn' keep
it from you any more than could keep
my love from her. There is not another
woman like her north, south, east or west.
Did you ever notice the gold Of her hair? 1t
is like sunshine spun into threads. When
ever look at her think of some quaint
old words my mother used to read out Of
book long years ago when was boy
back in my old home. They went this
way: Whose shoe latchet I am not worth
to unloose.' I suppose the preachers
would call that irreverent, but God will
bear me witness there's no irreverence in
my heart when think Of her."
At Harvey Armstrong; first words the
color was washed out of Ned Fosters face
as with a sponge, his very eyes seeming to
pale
Bringing his chair to the ground, con-
cealing his face with his hand, he leaned
over the railing and looked down into the
sluggish waters of the river flowing few
feet below.
AS thought piled itself upon thought
and Foster saw torn into shreds the beau
tiful fabric of dream that he, too, had
woven, with this woman for it's center, he
forgot that heaven held his mother and
lifted up his heart against it and against
his fellow man. But, thank God, it was
only for one feeting moment Remem-
bering whose brave right arm had five
years before at the battle of San Jacinto
intercepted the Mexican bullet aimed at
his own breast, he was able to turn away
from the dark suggestions and give back
undated love and sincerity into the ex-
pectant eyes Of his happy rival.
GOOD for you, old fellow" he Said as
he extended his hand. MAY you have
centuries of happiness. God Knows
with look of tender loyalty his friend
never forgot-s'if any man deserves her it
is you, Harvey"
This was in the summer of 1s41.
In the autumn of 1s42, when President
Houston ordered out General Somervell
to the Rio Grands to organize troops and
avenge the insulting raids of Vasquez and
VOL, Ned Foster was among the first TO
respond to the call for volunteers.
About 1870 miles south of Saltillo on the
road to the City of Mexico is an old fort
known in history as the Hacienda Salado.
The high walls, built in fortress fashion
around an immense square court, are well