The Newberry herald and news. (Newberry, S.C.) 1884-1903, 1898-11-15
| cheap, as we buy closer than others.

ness The henving bosom of the
world has become Il dark muusoloun',
and thoro tho slccpcrs lie, mover TO
know the glorl's Of coming resur-
rection. In tho presence of this
vast destruction, ono is bound TO
stand i'll silence that puralyzcs and
bushes the spirit, while memories of
other days, or rather Of nights OF
horror, como over him. Ho recalls,
with Il Bhudder, the sound of the
enemy's bugie that burst on him Just
rs ho was about to enter some date
III the land 6f dreams. IIe remem-
bers his desire to flee, and how ho
was fuced by the uwfm Thoughts
"Whithor shall | heey' Shut in on
every hand, ho could do nothing but
lio prone upon his back TO await the
coming Of tho venger, whose darts
were keen and terrible, and full of u
neighbor's gore. A single blast
from tho trumpet Of al invader
called i'll u multitude that were
ready to onter with him upon his
blood letting mission. And here
they como, through tho doors and
windows and from every point Of the
compass, each one armed to do his
work Of destruction, In tho lono
hours of night tho battle ragged. 1t
WAS fierce and furious. Column aftor
! column came on to the tray, whllo
tho attacked knew, before single
, blow had been struck, that now, AZ
in cvory case, yielding and tlofeat
wore tho sure result. 1t was the
fight of the hopeless against tho
! hopoful; tho battle Of the weepor
against the singer; tho contest be-
tween tho conquered and tho con-
quoror. But como it must, and
como it did, and for months the
weary strife won't on. Each morn.
ing showed tho marks Of blood and
signs of conflict fingered upon
many brow that had been beuton
in tho night. Hope departed, and
the great world grow dull and
heavy. Time and again the quos-
don arose, "Is life worth livingY" 1t
was serious question, and drove
the spJrh into somi madness. Do.
spair s"t down at many chamber
door, and tho smell Of burning rags
told Of the battle within. Memories
Of those awful hours are like night
mares and visions of torture, and tho
bare contemplation of them fills ono
with unuttorablo groans and horrors
Of thought.
But the end has come. The op-
posing armies gathered in night,
armies outnnmbcring the legions of
demons that had made prey of half
n world. There was no sound of
marching nor Of gathering hostsl All
was still and " solomn hush pro-
vailed; but amid it all tho work e
death went on, and when tho morn
ing came, the enemy of man had
disappeared. Nor did they fly to
tho rocks and to the cayerns in the
hills. Tho avonging power show ed
no morcy. Their corpsos strowed
the ground, and they lie dead, be-
smoared with another's blood. Tho
bugle is broken and all the daugh-
tors Of music is brought low. For
months to como, man may entor
the precincts of his own domain,
nor fear tho coming Of the midnight
assassin. The dart and javolin are
broken, and tho voice Of triumph i,
stillsd. Over this wo all rejoice. We
como forth now to our morning tasks
; bearing no marks of our blood that
WAS shed in the night of conflict.
, Fresh and strong, we run our daily
, race, with no dread of returnin g
nightly combat. Ovor this we all
hft up our song; for the mosquitoes
are dead. Selah