The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1896-05-28

brides, and in many places as well as
IN the canopy of bunting and flowers
under which they stood to be wed, the
country's starry flag with its firma-
ment or heavens own blue, all making
another picture in blue and gray. AS
Ruth looked at her stalwart hus-
pand, the sunbeams in her hair, heart
ana eyes, she looked like one of Ra-
phaeIs angels released from its canvas
TO make mortal glad. 1t was happy
wedding, and out of it grew two happy
homes.
Years came and vert. summer skies
of blue changed to winter skies of gray
and back again. Gray came thicl1lv
into the hair and boards of the two
veterans and into the sunny tresses of
their bonny brides. But both these
men were loyal to the core, loyal in
friendship, loyal in devotion to their
country's cause. PoindcXter, always
maintaining the sincerity of the boys
in gray, who proved it by heroic cour-
age and self-sacrifice, was not a man
to do anything by halves. He saw that
it was a good thing that slavery had
been shot to death, that union had been
established, that disintegration,
though masked in specious disguise,
had been forever made impossible On
Memorial day, though not of course
eligible to membership IN the G. A.
r., he walked by invitation in the pro-
cession, and there, arm in arm, Fall
coner and his sisters handsome pris-
oner paid tribute to the heroes deal.
Sometimes at public meetings AMI
campfires they spoke, and the fervid
southern eloquence of the soldier
who once bravely fought in gray
breathed deep devotion to the cause
won by the boys in blue. Families
grew up about them-athletic boys,
with something of their fathers looks
and loyalty; sunny-haired girls, from
whose blue eyes shone the devotion
shown by their mothers in the days
which tried women's souls. Two years
ago, not many months apart, the ia
theirs heard the word of command from
Oh high, and like true soldiers obedi-
emily responded. They lie side by side
in death as in life; above them gray
granite slabs growing, as it We're, from
beds of blue violets, myrtle blossoms
and emerald grass.
On last Memorial day there came
to these graves, after the crowd had de-
parted, hand in hand, two lovers. The
youth was Carlos PoindeXter, the
maiden Dorothy Falconer, children of
the men who slept at their feet. He
wore naval cadet uniform of gray,
she had a clinging dress of blue, and
her eyes matched her garb as his
gray eyes did his neatly fitting uni
form. Small union flags dropped over
the grassy mounds, and on the gray
granite monoliths hung chaplets of
flowers, already fading. The skies
above were blue, but as they stood
there talking gently of the parents
they loved, the gray veil Of the twilight
crept over the heavens, the sunset GRIM
son famed and then paled in the west,
the stars one by one peeped out, shin
ing softly through the thinly gather
ing clouds. His arm stole about her
waist, hers crept about his neck, and
their lips met in lovers kiss. Was
ii the wind which breathed a soft
benediction, or did the gentle whisper
come from the graves at their feet?
Suddenly and softly few drops of rain
fell, glistening in the fading light, and
as they turned away the beautiful
maiden laid two choice chapIets of
flowers upon these cherished graves, in
token of lasting love and remembrance.
They were made partly of gray Spanish
moss from Louisiana, and peeping out
shyly from the soft outlines of these
wreaths of neutral tint were blue
eyed pimpernels and blue forget-mc-
nots. l. EDGAR JONES.