Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1894-05-24

procession on Decoration day and
carry flowers to the soldiers graves
Aunt Drusilla looked up from her
sewing, gave a scarcely audible sigh
and said nothing. Too much excited
to notice this apparent lack Of interest
on the part of her aunt, the elder child
continued the fascinating description
of the event in which she hoped to play
so prominent Il part. In breathless
tone, wherein was just a suspicion of
an undercurrenu of pride, she pro-
ceeded eagerly:
"And | am to walk first. teacher
says-and we are to wear white
dresses with bright sashes-it will be
lovely, p
1T won't be quite so lovely if we
haven't any white dresses to wear"
interrupted her little sister Myra, who
was of a practical turn Of mind.
Myrtle's face fell somewhat at this,
and moment or two of thoughtful
silence followed. Quickly rallying,
however, she turned to her aunt rs to a
person of ineXhaustible resources, say
ing confidently:
Aunt Drusilla will fix us some, I
know she will
mo you don't, Myrtle, Aunt Drusilla
hasn't said she would"
''You will, won't you, aunt?' said
Myrtle, coaxingly.
.You must wait until think it over,
children-you know I am not made of
money"
AS this was a somewhat common ex-
preston with Aunt Drusilla when
extra drains were made on her pocket
book, and often resulted favorably,
the little girls felt no serious misgiv-
ings with reference to their white
dresses.
Left once more to herself Drusilla
continued her work with thoughts
which wandered far from her present
surroundings Time had flown by. car
rying with it one by one Of her old
associates, either on the matrimonial
wave, or to the shore where there is
neither marrying nor giving in mar
rage" and still she, Drusilla Dexter,
remained with au uneventful past and
an apparently joyless future. 1 said
''uneventful;' in that, perhaps l erred
taking the general opinion Of the
few who thought they knew Drusilla's
history from beginning to end as a cri-
terion for the precise truth.
The wise man has truly said: Every
heart knoweth it's own bitterness and
Il stranger intermeddleth no: with it's
joys" and he might have added-its
own secret hopes.
Some fifteen years before the date of
my story, while in her fathers home,
Drusilla cherished, and fell asleep many
a night to dream of, an ideal of manly
type. No one suspected it-naturally
reserved, she said but little of what
touched her in the tenderest spots.
Hugh Manning, their neighbours son.
was big boy when she first started
for school. His was the friendly hand
upon which she had relied in all her
childish troubles, and out of the album
dance of large-hearted nature he
never refused to help the shy little
maiden whose thanks were often only
au appreciative smile. Years passed in
this way until Hugh was a man indeed
and Drusilla q sweet-faced maiden.
The neighborly companionship con-
tinued and Drusilla cared for none
other. To see him once in few days,
even, satisfied her.
The distant rumblings of war at last
penetrated the little western village
where they lived, and women's hearts
failed them, knowing that the call for
their loved ones would surely come.
Then Drusilla awolxe from the blissful
dream in which she had INDUCED to the
reality of heartache and a startling
consciousness of the fact which Is
either fraught with much joy or sor-
row to woman, viz, that her heart
was no longer in her own keeping
irrevocably given to another. L. call
for men came even sooner than was an
ticipated, and Hugh was one Of the first
to offer himself. Notwithstanding her
grief Drusilla would not have had it
otherwise. Her ideal was brave man,
stalwart and fearless--bu oh, the mis-
cry of It'll Her father and young broth
err were likewise going; the one on the
extreme limit of age permissible, and
the other almost too young for service,
but they were ready and willing, and
the women were too loyal to their coun-
try to say them nay.
The last night before the men start
ed, the two families of the Mannings
and Dexters met at the latter's house
for farewell supper. Beneath the
pleasant flow of genial neighborly
chat there lay the deep current of
turbulent thought and sad forsbodings