El Paso daily herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1881-1901, 1898-11-19
THE LITTLE GRAVE.

seeing the sights of the streets, taking ex-
cursions into mysterious regions and re-
garding with wonder and amazement the
gorgeous and highly colored, though some
what slightly exaggerated, circus posters
on the barns that stand a little distance
back from the pike. And when daddy sat
on q jutting rock beside the T.: ush filed
with water from the hills that spurted and
gurgled through it's wooden pipe. and
Booky laughed and danced and tried to
catch the bubbles that played hide and
seek down to the vastly deeps, was daddy
to be blamed because in the boys deep
eyes and joyful laugh he caught glimpses
of that other world whence Bocky came
and heard the echoing of the harmonies on
the thither side where all must meet some
day?
How warm it was that Sunday when
daddy called halt for bivouac under
the generous shade Of the stately elm way
out the Taylor Mill roadl It was in Au-
gust and the air was heavy. The locust
and the cricket and the peevish rain crow
were holding concerts of dissonance and
drowsiness was in the neighborhood. Here
and there and everywhere ran Becky.
plucking the blossoms from weeds and the
bloom from the clover. binding the plumes
Of the blue grass into garlands and CROWN
ing daddy with them while in unbroken
talk and laugh his pure, fresh voice played
an obligato sweeter than flute could give.
Suddenly the prattle ceased, and the little
fellow stood looking up the pike, motion
less, erect and rigid as a statue, his hands
clasped and between them his little wooden
dog which he had gathered to his shelter
ing arms on the first approach of strangers.
Down the road three people were slowly
walking with the stride, the manner, the
dress and that indeflnable something that
belongs to the mountainous and to them
alone. First came a man of about 35, tall,
erect, spare and alert, his broad SLOUGH hat
of some color originally no doubt shading,
but not concealing, eyes that had looked
from birth on mist and mountain and tan
gled paths and mighty nature everywhere.
They were stern eyes, yet kindly, true to
the hand that pulled the trigger and never
missed the revenuer on his hunt for moon
shine stills and fees. Behind him a wom-
an, his wife, full ten years younger, clad
in faded calico, her sunbonnet thrown
back to her forehead, the strings between
her lips; pale Of countenance. high of fore
head. eyes of blue and step as graceful
and as light as the deer Of her native
mountains; then came little girl, bare
headed, barefooted, shy as q fawn, with
eyes of the hawk and hair the color of the
winter sun.
They sat down on the edge of the road
just below daddy, who could see but not
be seen, and the woman sighed; then,
throwing back her bonnet, looked Nstless-
ly round her until her eyes rested on
Becky. For q moment there passed lin
geringly over her face the evidence of the
pain that only comes from remembrance
Of the dead; then, rising, she stretched
out her arms to Bocky, who, half star
tied, partly poised himself on one foot and
shot a glance in the direction of daddy.
AS flash the mountaineer was on his
feet, one arm outstretched across the wo
mans breast as though to warn her back.
But the woman's heart knew better. Soft
ly stepping forward and with her arms
outstretched, with shining tears raining
down her cheeks and q smile of heart
breaking sadness, she stood in front of
Bocky, and falling on her knees, clasped
him to her breast and kissed him again
and again, while he, half frightened at
first and gently striving to disengage him
self, at last gave tear for tear and, kissing
her, broke from her embrace and ran to
daddy with quivering lips and eyes all
dimmed.
"Hit wuz we uns one little boy she are
a.thinkin Of" said the mountaineer in
the slow and grave speech Of his people,
placing one long, brown and nervous hand
on the woman's shoulder. "She keeps
a-thinkin of him all the day long, and
r. And he looked into the face of his
wife, whose body swayed and rocked after
the fashion of women in grief, and silence
came upon US all, and no one broke 1t for
q time.
HE were jis' risin of three year." con-
tinued the man slowly IAN then he died
an were buried on Tygart, an Mandy
lowed she couldn't stay no longer an lit
tie Alvin gone. An SO wen Mandy's sis
ter-her t lives nigh Shelbyville In In
dianny-sont word ez how she'd be mighty
glad to comfort Mandy, wy, she-that's
Mandy-wuz all for goin, an so we uns
packed up an But there came q chok-
ing in his voice, and he turned away and
looked across the valley in the direction OF
his mountain home.
And still the woman kneeled in the tall
grass and moaned and swayed her body
and looked not on her little daughter, but
on Becky, with that unutterable agony OF
affection a mother bears within her breast
for her dead. And her God bless him
again and make us all even as little chill.
dren, watering our dry and cankered
hearts unto the freshness and beauty OF
the hearts of the little onesi
What strange intelligence from the heart
Of the grief stricken mother, through her
dimming eyes told Becky the story of the
little grave on Tygartp With the fearless
love Of childhood he stretched out one lit
tie hand-tho hand that held the little
black wooden dog, his pet and special
treasure-apd gently laid it in the moth
er's hand and then, with face all glowing,
ran past daddy and onto the road, his eyes
turned homeward, while the mother bless
ing him and passionately kissing the gift
of childhood, moaned out, MY baby boy,
my baby boy!' and raised her hands to
heaven and blessed and blessed him again.
AS daddy and Becky passed down the
pike no shadows fell, but all was shining
as though an angels wing had glorified
the valley, and on the hillside staid the
three. The tall figure of the mountaineeI
with one hand resting on the head of his