Iron County register., 1900-05-31


played with his brass buttons-bow
plainly she saw thati Was it the daz-
zle of it in her eyes that made them
water? Diantha Berry was old-if 60
years is old--and lonely and grim.
There had been few shadows-or sun
iashes-in her life. Little Benjie had
been more to her than, in her heart,
she would confess. E> lad been to her
almost what her own son might have
been.
She sat back in her chair now, rock
ing fiercely, and remembered many
things. Little Benjie was il. them all.
They filed before her mind in steady,
relentless succession-the time when
Little Benjie put on his first bits of
trousers and stumped across the yard
to show her the pockets in them-the
time when he first went to school and
she tucked pair of his beloved straw
berry tarts, unnoticed, into his lunch
basket, for a surprise-and the time
Diantha Berry drew in her breath
sharply, with the pain of remember
ing-the time when, in his brave SOL
dier clothes, he marched away to war,
to the tune of the Red, White and
Blue" That memory hurt her. She
wondered, in dull misery, if mothers
could feel worse than that. If Little
Benjie's mother-but she would not
finish that thought out. Her thin
lips clenched. What had she to do
with Little Benjie's mother? 1t was
only Little Benjie that mattered to
her.
Elr,% RI hot
'twarn't for the way she treated me
when they brought home lso iie's body.
I'd have forgot all the fest then
wasn't ready to? Wasn't the first
one to give in? Do you suppose I'd
have let a miserable little quarrel
STAN between us then, when Little Ben
lie lay dead in the house? But Leah
felt different. She wouldn't make up
even then-then! If 'twarn't for that,
I'd pity her, settin' acrost there, all
alone. I'd be sorry for the mother o
Little Benjie. I'd go acrost and see how
her rheumatism was, and I'd run down
the street where the bands practicin'
and make 'em stop goin' over that tune
of Little Benjie's. I'll tell 'em to have
pity-it hurts his mother so to hear
it.. But now"
She turned the pages of the diary
in her hand, searching for something.
1t was not thereof course not! 1t
was in the next little book further
along in the rom. She took it down and
found the page she wanted.
They brought little Benjie home,
dead, to-day. Little Benjie dead! 1
saw 'em take the box out of the hearse
and carry it in to Leah-poor Leah!
My heart is achin' for her. She's feelin'
the way would have if they'd brought
my boy home to me dead, wearin' his
worn-out soldier clothes. 1 know how
Leah feels-poor Leah! I'm goin'
acrost to comfort her-I've got to, /
quarrel TO hold good when Little Ben
jie was layin' dead?"
The next days entry was short
enough. Hurt pride and sensitiveness
lurked between the lines of it.
ST couldn't make up my mind to go,
unlimited, and so l KEEP waitin' for
Leah to send acrost for me. 1 made
certain she would, but when she
didn't, even then / couldn't give it
up. I was so sorry for Leah, and
my heart was so sore to look at Lit
tie Benjie's face again. L couldn't
STAN it, so / wrote note to Leah,
askin' if 1 could come-if she'd for
get the quarrel as 1 would, and let
us begin again beside Little Benjie.
Gu, the Lord in Heaven knows I tried
to say it right! He knows I warn't
uppish mite, nor anything but hum
BILE and sorrowin'. 1 said: Forgive
me. Leah, and not word about my
forgivin' her-not a word, though
'twasn't me began<the quarrel. Well,
I sent the note acrost by Mis- Dag