The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1897-08-11
Home from the War.


men love children, for she was only
twelve years old when l shouldered my
musket to join the gray ranks of Lee.
The year 1861 had changed to 1865,
and Elsie was sixteen, while /, without
crutches and with no empty sleeve,
was back again in Louisiana and going
that summer day with Elsie to gather
for her the opening magnolia blooms.
The few negroes who had chung to
the fortunes Ct my old plantation home
through it all had made with their axes
boat for me. 1t was a dugout, made
from the trunk of tree, but ] had
drawn the pattern and shaped it more
like a birchen canoe of the lake In
dams than the common dugout or
skiffs of our lagoons.
From her home, fire scorched and
half desollte, like mine, let her pre-
cede me down the narrOH path, through
the tall canes to the waters edge, and
there she entered the boat and made it
skim the water where mirrored skies
and clouds tried to beautify the yellow
backwater of the Mississippi.
Too soon for me we reached the
sunny bank which was our destination,
for / had not yet decided why it was
that l was sorry because the little girl
in short dresses and ruff ed pantalettes
had grown into the beautiful and shy
maiden who sat so near me.
We stepped from the boat to the yell
low gravel, and in truth it was lovely
place. An artist might have made
picture of it all. Elsie as she then
looked TO me no words could tell of or
pencil sketch. To disenchanted eyes
she would only be young woman in
the picture. / was sunburned and tall,
dressed as the most of those were who
for years had received their pay in
paper which had scarcely value in
gold. Military orders from our con-
querors, forbade the Confederate uni
form, and was too poor 10 buy other
clothes. So had put black buttons in
place of the furnished gilt ones and was
in citizens dress by the change. l had
sword no more, but only long fishing
pole of the Louisiana cane, with the
line made into loop for reaching the
great white buds of the trees above US.
This the artist might have mistaken for
an immense coach whip to be used in
navigating the canoe. Our boat, which
was not bark, but log foated in the
still water behind us.
In the distinct background the bayou
on whose bosom we came disappeared
in the depths of the river swamps.
Above our heads were the mognolia
boughs, green with the summer emer-
aid of their leaves and laden with the
white buds just bursting from their
pale sheaths or with the great white,
waxlike flowers, looking as if carved
from marble and fragrant as if baptized
with all the dews of Eden. In strange
contrast the long gray boards of the
northern moss fioated in yards of deli
cate vegetation from every branch of
the giant tree, as if the dark, glossy
magnolia immortal in their reopening
beauty had chosen to masquerade in the
frosted drapery of age. Beneath them
were the elastic canes, cropped short
by the cattle, while some of the green
stems, with their slender, faglike leaves,
had presumed upon the long retreat of
the water to seek the soft mud of the
lagoon and now barely lifted their
heads above the gold-tinted surface of
the full river.
Some way the blossoms within our
reach were left unframed, and we
talked of the days when L was not q
man Of nearly thirty and when she, too
innocent and young for prudery, had
sat upon my knee and told so often
over all her causes for smiles and tears
She stood and listened while l spoke,
$50 near and yet 80 far" her skin as
pure as the magnolia petals and her
breath as sweet as theirs, less than five
years ago my pet in all familiar friend
| ahin tn.Aau tha nnrohinaI ;Io1 hot
dared not touch. So holy a thing is
womanhoodl l spoke again of how
her lips, from their abundant store, had
given me the reward for all the little
things | did, even to the tales remem-
bered and told from the "Arabian
Nights" and with fear of something
that knew not of and with sigh that
was more the end of hope than hope, l
said:
"Elsie, my friend, fear you have
grown too old too kiss me now"
She hung her head, while roses
blushed upon the pure magnolia skin
and answered:
Yes, am too old to kiss you now,
but we were very happy then" She
paused and in lower tone went on,
"Would it be wrong to kiss me?"
What judge 80 young as / ever had
such question put by one so fair, and
| judgment gave with no bias or self
interest? Eve only for an apple wished
and the world was lost from tempta-
ton less than mine.
bent my head and whispered, 'If
you were promised as my wife, might
kiss you while you live and while the
stars endure, yet do no wrong"
No answer made she, but the eyes
and lips were lifted to my own, and the
warm air, heavy with fragrance from q
million blooms, floated up to tell the
angels OF the summer time that two
happy lovers had kissed beneath the
pure magnolia blossoms. So long as
flowers open or the rivers run Elsie