The Newtown bee., 1896-06-05

ing the number GOT, lifted his hat rey- ercntIy and laid the bit of cedar upon it,
 ''I put little posy there every time come, he said gently; ''I rcckoucd thar maybe the wife or uotfer of the boy lying there might like it."
 The man lying there might be her Martin, thought the little widow; and from that moment her heart ceased to cherish animosity toward any man who had fought on the other side.
 She stood on the bluff and looked down on the speaking, glinJiug river. The panorama of water and sky and hill stretching for miles before her was a vision for her to see. The G4g of her country yatcd from the great sr@tl above her; the only sound wa7 the ing ing If the birds, and the peace of God WAS over all.
 More years went by, and the Widow Davis ploddcd patiently through them, gattjng a little more vcary as they passed and hndi3g 1hc burden of lone)i- nces none the easier to bear as age crpp' on. That visit 10 shiloh had taught her some things, t0ler&tiOu among the ret {; but it had also taken away one tbing that had been secret source of comfort to her. Uatn that time she had pictured to herself the return ot her hu- band. She was a woman with but scant imagi- native power; hut where even the dul- lest mind dwclIs much upon one suhiect it wcaves about it q network of fancy far different from reality. She had not seen her husband dead; q battle was a vague thing to her; he had simply gone away and had not come back. Perhaps he had been wounded, had lost q leg or an arm, and rrisoEcr in rebel hand was lopg in recovering Then, perhaps here her fancy took q wild Ioap-per- hapa he wa; told b. some one that she was dead, or that she, thinking him dead, had married again, tho she didn't quite see how he cruld believe she could marry another man. But such taiv@s had happeucd-7he had read If then :; l would wander away and never care to revisit his old home until, at last, he somehow learned the truth and hastened to her with joy. Or it might be that he lad escaped from his rebel prison, had reached the seacost, had crept on board some foreign vessel, and had been car ried to far eff lands, whence he would some day reiu urn.
 Vain imaginiDgs! but lonely women dream strange things while they go half mechanically about their mOnoton- ous daily tasks. Even the happiness of happy women is half in this unreal inner life. After this visit to Shiloh these comforting pictures were corjured up no more in Lzzie's mind. It was all real now, the battle and the slaughter, and she had seen the graves where the sol diers lay; her thoughts centered about "1 COY, ," where the captains tribute rest ed, and she felt more and more con vinced that Martin slept beneath that stone. It was nearly thirty years, a lifetime since he went, and he would
 
 gate had opened to let her in. She had mourned her lost love for thirty years She, a little commonplace woman, Of whom no one would have thought as heroine Of romance. She would not have known what the term grand pas. sion" meant; she had been simply faith ful to memory in a quiet, undemon- strative way; her life had been bound up in a sentiment, that was all.
 One day in April-it was the thirtieth Shiloh anniversary-sh was at her little cottage, no neighbor needing her ser vices as nurse or seamgtress. It had been an early spring, and she went out in the garden to look at the signs of life among her few cherished flowers. In a sunny corner wild violeUs grew and had pushed green leaves above the mold, but no buds were yet in sight.
 "I remember" she said, speaking to a neighbor who had paused in passing-"I remember seeing violet flowers as early as this.''
 She was thinking of those stuck in the band of Martins hat that day so long ago when he came Srom the field, and as she spoke she looked down the village street, wondering at the unusual bois- terousness of the school children. They followed after and jsered ata man who came slowly and hesitatingly along, as if uncertain of his way. His clothing was rough, his shoulders bent ana his gait shambling. On his head was military cap, such as some old soldiers insist upon wearing, and on it's side was something like 8 decoration on woman's bonnet. It was this chat made q children ieer. Mrs Davis put her hand over her eyes and looked at it intently.