Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1894-09-28
LOVES SACRIFICE.

Antonio river Two mon, 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 checks and burned
in the red of youth to a 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 a republic worked out in
blood her long probation The other had II
faircr countenancc, more ightsome and
full of happy promise.
Supcraddcd tonight TO his native oxubor-
nnce was some foreign climcnt of joyous
ness which seemed to master spirit and
muscles alike He was full of movement.
Tossing away half finished cigarette, he
claspcd his hands back of his curly head
and broke the silence with sudden speech.
''Ned, 1 am too happy to smoke. l am
the happiCst man in all this bordorlaud.
Nellie Horndon has promised to be my
wife. It's "A secret yet, but l couldn't keep
it from you any moro than ] could keep
my love from her There is not another
woman like her north, south, cast or west.
Did you over notice the gold of her hair? 1t
is like sunshine spun into threads. Whom
ever look at her I think of some quaint
old words my mother used to read out of
a book long years ago when was a boy
back in my old home. They went this
way Whose shoe latchet l am not worth
to unloose' l suppose the preachers
xNOu11 pnll fbut irp...-arpt,t I,rt Cod will
bear me witness there's no irreverence in
my heart when think Of her."
At Harvey Armstrong's 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 a 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 its 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 flecting moment. Remem-
bering whose brave right arm had five
years heIore at the pallle OF San Jaclnto
intercepted the Mexican bullet aimed at
his own breast, he was able to turn away
from the ualA Suggestions aud give back
unahated love ana sincerity into the eX-
pectant eye. al his happy rival
Good for you, Old fellow" lie said as
he extended his hand. May you have
centuries Of happiness. God knows -
with look OF tender Loyalty h. FRIEND
never forgot-"lf AN! man dCscrves her it
is you, Harvey
This was in the summer Of 1871.
In the autumn Of 1872. when President
Houston ordered out General Sumcrvell
to tie Rio G:andc to organize troops and
avcnsc the Insulting raids of Nasquoz and
Won, Ned roster was among the first to
respond to the call for volunteers.
About $50 miles south of Saltillo on the
road to the City of Mexico is an old fort
known in history as tie Hacienda Salado.
The high walls, built in fortress fashion
around an immense square court, are well
ttteG for defense and in times of war are
used for such purpose.
This one stands in the midst Of Il sandy
plain whose drcary stretch of gray is bro
ken here and there by patches of bunch
grass and tufts of stunted sage To the
east and west are mountains, and on the
dividing ridges are scattered lonely pines
To this place on March 26, 1913 were
brought the recaptured remnant of the
unfortunate Mier expedition, that gallant
band of 800 men, the flower of western
militia, who went forth to do battle for
the honor oC the young republic and were
so trcacherously dealt with by the follow
ers of Santa Anna, to whom they surren-
dered as prisoners of war. All readers of
history know how the terms of the treaty
were broken and the betrayed men shown
no mercy, but marched into the interior,
subjected to incredible hardships and
finally imprisoned miles away from home
and friends.
All this is history. but we have no writ
ten record of that interval between the es-
cape and the recapture when the little com
pany wandered, lost and helpless. among
the fastncsscs of unfamiliar mountains