The Republican journal., 1899-08-10

come to her, intiamed with enthusiasm
All the boys in the Thompsonville com
pany had signitied their Willingness to go
to the front at the call of the President.
There were ten vacancies in the company,
and, could he 90? 1t would all be over in
month, and then he could come back.
\ 1es, he could if his country needed him.
She remembered how she went down to
ThOmpsonville one summer morning with
Budd to see Jim off to camp with his
company. He wrote her the night before
the regiment left for Cuba. Letters came
to her regularly for awhile, and then, of a
sudden, they ceased. She thought Of
those endless days of waiting for Just a
word from him, her boy, her Jim. And
then at last, after centuries it seemed to
her, came the letter saying he had been in
the hospital with the fever She remem-
bered how nearly crazed she was after she
read that letter. Then came others, say
ing he was better and then day after day
without word, save once, when a short
note, scrawled on a bit of wrapping paper,
clme to her with the news that his regi-
ment was again in the United States and
encamped somewhere on the Eastern coast.
And at last the dispatch of that morning
Coming home and sleep closed her
eyes.
At / o clock Matilda Springer awoke
She hulriedly dressed and called Budd.
He went out and hitched up the twu horses
to the old democrat wagon and removed
the back seat.
He led the horses up to the oack porch
and called TO his mother. She came out
dressed in a brown poplin, and on her
wavy gray hair rested her best bonnet, a
little affair of jet, with violets on one side
and strings 10 tie under the chin. Around
her shoulder she had wrapped shawl.
"I-I-can' hardly watt" 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 mother S
heart was filled to overflowing with love
for that boy whose face she had not seen
for so many, many weary weeks, whose
brown eyes had not looked down at heI
for oh, so long.
The wagon rolled down the last hill in
the road and around the curve at the bot
tom. Budd drew up the horses at the
depot platform. ''Yew stay here an hold
en- said his mother. 'Tll 60 over
there an sit on that truck tiF tn train
comes.'
She got out of the conveyance and walk
ed around the station house to the othel
side. Unobserved by Budd she wiped hel
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 from her seat and,
entering the building, walked over to the
ticket window.
SIS tn train from tn north on time?'
she asked.
"Three minutes late at Silver Lake, :"
was the answer.
''Heow 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 swerv-
ed.
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 one
got off. The woman 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 irst passenger coach two SOL
diers lifted long pine box from the car
ahead and laid it on the platform.
The woman cried out to them, 'sWhere' S
Jim, my boy Jim? He was comm on this
train. Where is hep
"Who?' asked one of the men in uni
form, 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.
81 can't tell her Bill" he whispered to
his companion.
The engine bell rang.
'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 staring at nothing.
| A cry cut the air-a keen, piercing,
gashing cry-and the woman fell upon her
knees beside that box and, throwing her
arms over the top, sobbed and beat her