Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1898-11-30

and on her wavy gray hair rested her
best bonnet, little affair of jet with
violets on one side and strings to tie
under the chin. Around her shoul-
ders she had wrapped shawl.
"T-I-can'thardly wait, j" she said,
half to herself.
Budd helped her into the wagon
and climbed in after her. He drove
over the dusty country road and
across the old wooden bridge with one
hand holding the reins, for she clasped
the other. She did not speak often
during that drive. There are times
when the heart is too full to allow of
the forming of words. This was one
of those times. The mothers heart
was filed to overfowing with love for
that boy whose face she had not seen
for 30 many, many weary weeks, whose
brown eyes had not looked down ut
her for oh, so long.
The wagon rolled down the last
hill in the road and around the curve
at the bottom. Budd drew up the
horses at the depot platform. "Yew
stay here an hold 'em," said his
mother. .tIll go over the. an sit
on that truck til tn train comes.
She got out of the conveyance and
walked around the station house to
the other side. Unobservei by Budd
she wiped her eyes, and then she sat
down on the truck.
BY and by the young agent came
and unlocked the door of the building
and went inside. Out upon the cool
morning air was waited the "click,
click" of the telegraph instrument.
Mrs. Springer rose froI. her seat
and entering the building walked over
to the ticket window.
ssIs tn train from th' north on
time?" she asked.
s'Three minutes late at Silver Lake."
was the answer.
stHeow long afore it's due?" There
was little tremor in the voice.
'It'll be here in eighteen minutes"
the operator replied.
By and by from away up the track
came the rumble of an approaching
train. Nearer and nearer, and then
around the curve above the station
the engine swerved.
The bell changed, and the train
stopped. Mrs. Springer ran back
to the passenger coaches. One or
two sleepy heads were poked out
of the windows, but no ono got off.
The woman's jaw fell. No, there was
no one in the rear cars for Evans
Crossing, the brakeman told her.
"Ain't they some soldiers?" she
cried, her face all white.
"Oh, soldiers" he said, 'they's
some up in the baggage car"
The woman turned and ran down
the platform. As she reached the
forward end of the first passenger
coach two soldiers lifted long pine
box from the car ahead and laid it on
the platform.
The woman cried out to them,
where's Jim, my. boy Jim? He was
comm on this train! Where is she?'ss.
Whog, asked one OF the men in
uniform, quietly.
"My boy, Jim Springer"
The soldier did not answer. he
stopped and glanced down at the little
white card tackled on the lid of the
long pine box.
"I can't tell her, Bill, he whispered
to his companion.
The engine bell rang.
The train was moving.
"Why-why-why don't you tell
me?" cried the woman.
She rushed toward the two men.
She glanced down at the box. The
card caught her eye. She leaned
over and read the words written there.
Then she stood up straight, her face
white, her mouth open, her eyes star
ing at nothing.
A cry cut the air-a keen, piercing,
gashing cry-and the woman fell upon
her knees beside that box and throw
ing her arms over the top sobbed and
beat her head against the lid and
scratched the rough boards with her
nails.
And just then the sun broke through
the clouds, and the dew drops on the
grass, the leaves, the trees and every
where sparkled like diamonds. All
nature seemed to mock mothers
ooonv nv-Datroit Free Prass