Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1898-05-24

Strong. all about darling old daddy,
fighting like hot headed boy, and he
SO years old, all about the closed col
lege. every professor in the army. all
about Annabcl's troubles, and now j
think am entitled to some return con-
fidences.
~ have nothing to tell you"
Nothing to tell!'
Nothing"
Nothing to tell in these stormy
times, when just 10 be q man is an ex-
ira privilege
Nothing" F."
what have you been doing since
you carried off the first honors ut col
lege!'
Nothing"
"What are You going to do!"
Nothing.
"Wellv"
A volume in four letters. He did not
look at her He knew just how full OF
scom her bright, clear eyes were just
then. He would have found it pleas
ant relief at that moment 10 have
marched up to the mouth uf loaded
cannon. A second later he was grind
ing his teeth in impotent rage. His
short hour Of bliss WAS eliminating in
gloom and bitterness.
With u slight forward motion she
had set the heavy rocker in motion, and
looking at him with concentrated in
terest said dcmurely:
lyon might take ont q contract to
supply the army with turnips. There is
no risk In that.
He grew white TO the very edge OF
his lips. She turned her bright, dry
ewes from his tortured face to say III low
tone confidence to the backlog:
And We need men 80 much right
| now
"Mamiel"
II was the cry Of wounded animal.
He looked at her across the broken
brick hearth, with all the agony Of his
soul stamped on his face. The hot light
in her eyes was quenched in sudden
tears. She flung out her hands with o
passionate gesture.
How could You disappoint me 80:
You promised me you would do great
things for my sake, because ! believed
in you straight through. Your opportu-
nifty, such golden one, has come.
What are you doing with it? Rusting
out, just rusting out, in ignoble ease,
| in disgraceful idleness. never thought
to have found you here. OF course
supposed you were fighting, but you
loved your ease better than you did my
good opinion
Ease! Good GodH'
eyes, ease, Strong Martin. Father,
my darling, delicate man OF books, Is
sleeping this moment, If he ever does
sleep these awful days, Oh a pile OF
straw, l suppose, with snakes and things
crawling all over his blessed body. Per-
haps he tramped all day long or an
empty stomach too. They say our sol
diers are all half starved to death. But
what do you care? And his shoes-ia'
ther's l mean. He made picture OF
them in his last letter, for my diver
sion, he wrote. 1t threw me into Eys'
terics. The letter was written on wall
paper too. But I'd rather, yes, ten
thousand thousand times rather, have
him tramp all over the state OF \ir'
ginia without any shoes ut all on hif
feet than to stay at home and have the
finger of scorn pointed ut him. Bless
his dear old heart, l mace him two
shirts ont of the parlor curtains last
week and sent them to him with some
socks knitted for him. l do hope they
will fit Lim-the shirts, / mean, but
they did look dreadfully corkscrowy,
and perhaps, oh, perhaps, he'll get shot
in one Of those very shirts. But don't
care, / don't care, he's doing man 4
part, while YOU
A hot rush of tears rendered her next
words unintelligible. Strong sprane
from his chair and began the circuit OF
the room like hunted thing seeking q
point Of egress.
81 am not worth one single tear from
good " omsn IS eyes, nc said, stopping
in front of her and speaking i'll u stified
voice.
From behind Miss Colyer's damn
handkerchief assent came with cruel
promptness.
II know You are not. OF course you
are not. But ! told You awonan had Il
make n fool Of herself about somebody.
II will enlist tomorrow. "
"What for?'
She emerged into view suddenly
with recovered composure.
Because You want me to.
"That is an excellent motive. Strang'
it did not move you to enlist earlier II
the action.
mamie, will you hold your scorn il
hand few moments! 1t cuts like
whiplash. Iwant to say few words IL
self defense" +"
well
He did not sit down. With his hand
folded behind him he stood in frcnt q
her, n solved for this one time only Il
yindicate his attitude in words.
Il don't think am y coward. Per
haps deceive myself, Int am not il
sympathy with this thing. | think
| is mn accursed mistake from beginning
to end.
"You are Union man?' She LOOKED
at him in horror. recoiling as from som
visible reptile.
II am. repeat the whole this !
an internal mistake, according 10 H.,
way of thinking After av lille ther'
lvil be mere men to hold my views
Just now our people are intoxicated
they are dashing themselves to piece
en- I. rock hidden from sight by the hiel
Tide Of frenzied emotion. They are hight
ing like heroes. but hopelessly, for n
idea. A starved child wrestling with ,
we'll fed giant. . m
Il "But all this has no bearing on m,
personal attitude This Is the slav
owners fight. / am nothing but the so'
Of slave driver. ] had hoped to she
some luster ON name that had beel
dinlmed by centuries nf low service
but not by donniug gay uniform AM
sla hing my way into fame as . war
rior. All my soul went ont In direction
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