Decorah public opinion. (Decorah, Winneshiek County [Iowa]) 1895-1928, 1897-06-01

boy smiled friendly wise into the rough
face and remarked with wayering
sweep of his fOrefnger:
That's my fathers monument"
Your fathers, hey?"
eyes. He was the bravest man in
the -th Pennsylvania. My mother
tells us so often. He died for his coun-
try"
who was your father" Struck
again by that dim resemblance to
someone he had known, he asked the
question, half shrinking from the re-
ply, yet never dreaming what it would
be.
Matthew Barlow, an my names
Matthew Barlow, but hers" indicat-
ing the girl-"ain't She's Dora Ma
tilda, after her aunt"
Well, and wherein lay the horror OF
it? Had he not wished and intended
to hunt up his family and be reunited
to the children who had been babies
when he saw them last? And here he
had stumbled across them without the
across his own monument!
Where's your mother" he asked in
whisper, not daring to look behind
him.
"Out working. She cleans offices.
mother does, an she couldn't afford to
take to-day off, cause it's desperate
hard to get along anyhow, she says,
and"
"Matty" In the girls tone of gen.
tie rebuke there was familiar cadence
he wondered at himself for not no.
ticing before. Rousing himself, he
said to her tentatively:
How do you know your fathers
dead? Maybe he'll come back some
day with lot of money and make you
all rich"
| Dora Matilda shook her head. He'd
! have come back to us before this" she
said confidently. ''He was reported
missing after the battle of Bull Run
and mother says she's sure he's dead.
| She says, too, that she'd rather he'd
left us what he did-an example OF
being brave and willing to die for the
Union-than hundreds OF gold and sill
yer dollars
Your mother amt married again,
them"
Surely it was Lucy's own self in the
naughty fiinging back of the head and
| the answer which rung proudly out,
Certainly not!'
The deserter suddenly set the boy
! down. Something bore too heavily on
. his shoulders. 1t was that great shaft
/ of stone, his monument. The band
/ kept on pretending to play patriotic
songs, but really beating the air with
the refrain, Honor gone, all's gone"
! Had he dreamed Of something he was
| to bring to these children, by answer
| ing the advertisement which was to
| lead him, perhaps to unlimited wealth
and comfort? What wealth, what COM
| fort could replace to them-or to him
the heroic image which his return
would blot out from their young mind?
The ten years of poverty which had
| been bitter TO him had been sweet to
| them with q sweetness he could never
| know again. Let them work and toll
on, and even il they tasted the bitter
ness of starvation or death, it would
be better than anything he could give
| them, who, as the martial music kept
reminding him, had better never have
been bern!
"Sister works too the boy prattled
on, Gin factory, and she saves money
| through the year to buy flowers for
Decoration Day. Then when all the
folks have gone away we put them on
fathers monument"
Matt Barlow reached out his hands
toward the bunch of limp roses and
fading mignonette which the girl held,
then as suddenly withdrew it. Keep
en- he said grufiy, almost violently.
Il thought / wanted one, but don't"
That evening, as the stars and the
gas lamps began to twinkle In unequal
rivalry over Washington square, the
man who had been sleeping heavily on
one of its benches opened his eyes in
response to slight shake. Instinc-
nNe<1 >x..