Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1897-05-29

yield it gladly to those to whom it
rightfully belonged?
Long they talked of their wonder
full find, of the goodness of God, of the
parents they both loved, and their sem
timents were union sentiments of the
strongest kind, emphasized and
strengthened by the memory of the
great conflict in which their fathers
together died Ere they walked away in
the twilight they had planned to buy
NE, and transfer me to their native
town, not far away, and the fair maid
actually Rugged and kissed me as she
babe me temporary farewell. There
were pearly drops of moisture on me-
and the roses which covered my rough
ness, as she turned away, that were not
distilled from dew or sprinkled by the
long familiar rains. In old-fashioned
times Cupid accomplished his best sur
p1ises with bow and arrow, but now, if
you please, he can use cannon, old,
rusty, rheumatic and broken, Just as
well. / may be an old bore, but can
do as useful things as many people who
look more gracious and less grim. Never
judge an old veterans heart by his
rusty exterior and time-worn marks
of wind, weather or war. Rough oys-
ter shells hide more pearls than the
smoothest shells glistening on tropic
beaches do.
We'll, they secured a permit from
Uncle Sam to remove me, and here L
am, the observed of all observers, a
properly certified relic OF the war.
like it, too. though L sometimes sigh
moodily for the sheltered ravine and it's
wildwood roses. Somehow these care
fully groomed roses in the park havs
never seemed as free and fragrant.
They are too prim and precise, like spin
sters on parade. And as for the Iau-
rels of praise? What are they to the
faurels which rubbed their pink cheeks
lovingly against me in the shaded ra-
vine, under the canopy of vines? But
they make much of me here. installed
me with music and speeches, garland
me with flowers on Memorial days, Iaud
me to the skies. Lovers lean against me
in the summer evenings, and whisper
their dearest condolences, relying upon
my discretion. and old soldiers pat me
lovingly, and they tell of stirring scenes
i'll which L and my kind played star
parts and made the welkin ring. Near
me stands the soldiers monument, and
nearer still the tall staff from which
floats the glorious star spangled banner
for which 1 fought and fell.
y
the right to call them mine?) wed and
made one. They paused to greet me
on their way to the church near by, and
saw through the open door tie dear
little bride with canopies of flags and
flowers above her shapely head, and
sunbeams colored gayly by stained
glass windows crossing her golden hair
in tinted benediction. She stopped to
pat me lovingly as she leaned on her
noble husbands arm returning home
ward, and 1 verify believe they look
upon me a sort of cast-iron shrine,
for they often come to see me and ex-
change condolences, talking to me as
to friend of the family whom they con-
slider quite one of themselves.
Near by, visible across a corner of
the park lawn, is their home. On the
wall is a framed picture, the portrait
of the two dead soldiers, one in blue
and one in gray. Over it are crossed
peacefully the swords they wore, in
token of lasting peace as well as lasting
remembrance, and draped above it
sillSen flag, the beautiful flag of our
country, its stars bright, its bars typic-
al of the red blood shed for it's sake.
Very lovingly it droops over the por-
traits, and its folds seem to cling as
caressingly about the man in gray as
about the man in blue. In that home
there is love and respect for the soldiers
of north and south. Peace, blessed
peace, reigns supreme.
This is the eve of Memorial day. /
am garlanded with flowers and have
been honored brave veteran should
be by those he served and saved. The sun
is setting, and not far away, on the beach,
see the family group l love; the hus-
band, lnez, the two playful children,
and in addition a sweet-faced babe in
arms. The sea is like mirror of mol
ten gold, but near the shore its surface
dimples into smiles and it hsps loving
nothings to the listening sands. Out
lined against the glorified sky, with its
wondrous panorama of crimson and
gold, pearl and amber, feecy outlines
made of angel plumage, tai pinnacles
tipped with flame, floats proudly the
flag we love- And far away on a dis
tant hill, where rows of tombstones
CLEAN whitley, see the two headstones
which point like finger-posts toward
heaven, punctuating the beauty of love
and friendship. 1t is picture of quie1