Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1898-05-12
THURMONT Frederick County, Maryland, Thursday May Z, 1898.
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COPYRIGHT. 1887 sr TIE Avrnoa.


"That big tree trunk is between me
and everything" Tho song that had
foated to them across the wasting fields
of cotton had ceased abruptly, and tho
only audible sounds within the shrub
choked inclosure was the swapping Of
dried sticks broken by an unseen hand
to feed the new made fire. Presently q
vigorous revealing flame sprang into ex-
istence, giving the entire scene to the
two pair of eager eyes peering over the
rusty spikes Of the iron graveyard gate.
With their lips close to each others
ears they exchanged items Of excited
comment.
"There are two Of them"
"A black man and white one."
"The white one certainly looks as II
he belonged to a graveyard. What
dreadfully hollow checks! And, oh, Ii
"a, looki His poor knees. He is hug
ging them so close they are actually
showing through his trousers.
"Iwish he would push his hat back. If
could see his whole face, / might
make out who he is. 1t can t be Adrien
Strong"
"Adrien Strong! Heavens, no! Adri-
en- Strong is dandy. Oh, isn't that
just too heart breaking?'
Without tho movement Of . muscle,
with his head still dropping forward 20
that nothing was visible but the thin.
hollow cheeks and the long uncared for
beard that almost touched the frayed
knees Of his ragged, gray trousers, the
man had begun new song.
A plaintive, simple ballad, already
grown hackneyed about the ca,npfres,
where countless war weary heroes, rest
ing beneath the sentinel stars, with no
shelter other than the dark blue canopy
Of the midnight skies, let their homo
sick fancies wander back to the dear
ones left behind with an exquisite an
guish of longing that found utterallce
in song. But to those two listening,
watching girls it was all new and fresh
and thrilling.
"Who will care for mother now"
sane the wan faced wayfarer, resting
there beneath the laurel tree that shed
its blossoms over the silent sleepers In
the little gravcynrd-sang 1t in the per-
funotory fashion Of ono who performs q
deed more from force Of habit than from
any conscious effort, but his voice was
clear and sweet, and no false note jar
red upon the music loving cars Of his
auditors.
Mamie, silently weeping, softly sub
sided among the weeds on tho cemetery
steps and buried her head in her lap. 1t
was torture, but shc would not lose one
note Of that sweet, weird melody for
worlds.
Liza, bent upon Identification, main
tanned her stand ut the gate. When the
song was ended, che would 60 In boldly
and question that forlorn trospasser
touching Adricn Strong, who was to
come home in state some day, panoplicd
In his battle worn laurels brighter and
fresher laurels than those whose glossy
leaves, stirred by the night wind, now
waved their dark bannegets over that
wandering minstrel IN tatters
There was movement on tho other
side Of the large beech tree that hid u
section of the little camp from her. "A
third party had been introduced into
the mystery, aud the singer WAS inter
rupted by a slow, deep voiced protest.
"Come, old chap, that ditty is dolo-
full enough when sung by dozen fcl-
lows around roaring campfire, but
just now and just here it is too much
even for my nerves.
The singer glanced up at the speaker
with knitted brows, as IL strenuously
endeavoring to link words and meaning
together, gave up the effort with "a
thctio smile and resumed his grooming
with renewed energy.
"Adricn Stop that, old man, you'll
soon be where your mother can care for
you. Do you know where you are, old
chap?"
At this new surprise Mamie had
sprung to her feet and stood by Liza,
whose hands were rigidly locked about
the iron spikes. She was trembling vio-
lently, and her smothered exclamation
of Mortified surprise was barely audible.
my God 1t cannot be! Adrien
Strong come to that! 1t is too horrible!"
"But the other one, LIAR
The darkness mercifully hid Liza s
cheeks from view. They were aSlow
with the quickening Of her pulses On
ly her starlike eyes told Of her intense
excitement as che tugged at the rusty
fastenings Of the gate.
II know his voice. 1t is Mr.. Cham
bliss. No harm will come to us, Ma
mie.
They were inside the inclosure now,
and with swift directness Liza was
threading the tangled, familiar maze.
Mamie followed her with laborious un-
certainty, now pushing aside an intru-
sive branch, now stumbling helplessly
over an unsupported root, never once
losing consciousness of a tall form stand
ing in soldierly ereotness, silhouetted
against the leaping flames Of tho camp
fire.
At sound Of Liza's swift advance he
turned his face from the tattered min
strel and made step toward her in the
gloom.
Liza, my dear little girll"
And then Mamie caught Liza's re-
sponse to- this greeting--a soft, glad
cry.
"Ah, it is you
And by the light of the campfire she
saw two pairs of hands go out to each
other eagerly, clasp each other firmly,
and so stand, content, there amid the
! dark signing pino trees and the molder-