The Holly chieftain., 1897-05-28

passed-yelrs during which the young
wife often told herself that the knowl-
edge of his death were better than that
terrible uncertainty as TO his fate. As
soon as the war closed, she went south
and inspected the records of oil the mill
tary prisons, bat gained no clew from
these. Yet she could never convince her
sell that he was dead, and she lived in
the faith that She and her boy, the son
he had never seen, now nearly as old as
his father was when he went to the
front, would yet look upon the living
face of that husband and father.
1t was the day when all America,
leaving all other matters aside, uutes
in doing honor to the heroes who died
that the nation might live. The morn
ing had broken bright and clear, and the
spring sun shone beniguantly upon the
completing preparations for the Me-
mortal day ceremonies in Banbury,
whence many a promising young tel-
low had gone to the war and died for his
country.
At II o'clock came the services at The
church, which almost everyone attend
ed. Lined on either side OF the walk
outside were the Banbury guards. the
local militia company, standing at
parade rest" while waiting for the APP
pearance of the grand army post.
Presently the veterans appeared,
marching up the street with somewhat
uncertain stcp-for many of them were
cripples-behnd mufiied drum and si-
lent fife-a little group OF aging men,
the remnant of scores of strong hope
full young fellows who had gone forth
from Banbury to fight for the cause
they loved.
AS they approached, the young cap
tain of the guards gave two or three
quiet commands: Attention! Carry
arms! Present arms!' And through
the files of untricd soldiers passed
those of many battles.
Il wonder who that old fellow in the
last row of veterans is" mused John
Lorimer, who, with bis mother and
Bessie Armstrong, stood on the corner
and saw the old soldiers pass by. "lle
must be n stranger. Did you notice?
He seemed to be dazed-a little of, /
reckon"
The services at the church we're more
| than usually impressive. The new min
| lister, Mr.. Dare, vas himself veteran,
/ and he talked to the soldiers as only n
soldier can, then preached sermon
that brought tears to the eyes OF nearly
everyone in the house.
The services over, the veterans, fol-
lowed by the guards and a long process
! 20 II
F., terry to perform the remaining cercmo-
nies of the day. AT the church door Mrs.
I.orimer left her son and Bessie TO join
some other flower-laden woman in Il
carryall, and the young people walked
leisurely toward the cemetery.
There were short services II; the base
of the tall shaft inscribed: ITO Our
/ Unknown Dead"--then the graves were
decorated, the salutes fired, and the pro
cession marched back to the village
leaving behind only d few persons. mos
of whom had friends buried there
Among those who remained were Johr
Lorimer and Bessie Armstrong, who. II
silence begotten by the solemnity o
the occasion. walked hither ant
thither among the shady paths of th'
little cemetery.
whats that 2" asked John, suddenly
as they turned into path they had no
seen before.
Bessie gave little scream. Almos
at their very feet lay the old strange,
Jchn had noticed in the morning, will
the blood trictling from q wound on hi
gray head. He had, apparently, sa
down on stump to rest, and, overcom
by the heat and his rather long march
had fallen backward striking his hea'
on large stone just beside the path
way.
John went to him us soon as he recoy
cred from his first shock. and raised tn
old mans head, but, beyond his fain
, breathing. there was little sign OF life