Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1901-06-28

81
tcopyrasht, 1901 paaly STORY Pub. co1
The straight marble shaft rose amid
the lush tangle of Greenwood cemetery
and on one Of the square faces of its
base were the words.
Sacred to the Memory OF John Hem
ing. Born August Is, 1898; Died July
II, 1893 Late Major of the Twenty
sixth New York Volunteers. For Four
Years He served His Country. He was
Captured at Fredericksburg; was Con-
fined for Six Months in Andersonville
Prison: was Exchanged and Immediate
ly Resumed His Place with His Com
mand He never Told His Men TO Go
On
The bones under this shaft once be-
longed to a man who had done his duty
as he saw it and bore upon his body
the scars OF three desperate wounds
Returning to New York at the close of
the civil war, he had begun the prac-
tice of law. The habits of discipline,
promptness and enterprise formed dur
ing his service in the army had stood
him in stead, and he had been success
full, just as most old soldiers who have
business way. He had married when
slightly past 40 years old. and one
child, a daughter, survived him. She
was born on the 30th day of May, and
her Decoration Day pilgrimages mark
ed at once the performance of sacred
duty and the setting-up of another
milestone in her life. On Decoration
Day, 1899, she was 20 years old She
had been doubly an orphan for three
years and it had been her custom to go
alone to the cemetery.
AS she descended from her carriage at
the outer gate and swung up the long
slope of Prospect Height, she was
rarely beautiful woman, not divinely
tall, but most divinely fair. She was
much below the standard height of the
American female, but her muscled and
rounded form was grace itself. Her faith
er had been a devotee of athletics and
had insisted that her body be developed
as well as her mind She had never
had headache, nor used a perfume in
her life Her eyes were large and blue
and tender; her skin, even so early in
the season, was darkened but not rough
ened by the open air, and through the
brown velvet which was on her cheeks
the red blood showed in a signal light
of health. There was that in her free
light stride which spoke of one accus-
toned to long walks and hill-climbing.
Indeed, Miss Dorothy Heming was one
of the few women who have seen the
sun rise from the uttermost peak of the
Matterhorn, and among the most treas
ured Of her possessions was cheap sill
yer imitation Of the eidelweiss, badge
which proclaimed her member of that
strange coterie, the Universal Mountain
Climber, a sect who risk their necks for
the sake of talking about it afterward.
On Decoration morning she bore a
large basket filed to the brim with pan
sizes, swinging it lightly as she went
Paying no attention to the fiower-bear-
ing crowds about her, she walked d.
rectly to the Heming plot, inserted a
small key in the lcck of the gate 20 the
enclosure. entered and drew the gate
shut behind her. 1t clicked as the spring
lock set itself, and the little key
Jared out and fell yard away The
girl stood moment reverently before
the marble shaft, read the inscription
for the hundredth time then scattered
her flowers upon the graves of her par
ents. tears dewing her blue eyes as the
blossoms fell.
She spent an hour in the enclosure
noting the careful cleanliness CT every
thing, the evenness of the sward, the
whiteness of the stones and in one cor
ner she found wild violet pushing it's
tiny head through the sod. Then, be-
ing healthy young person, she
glanced at the tiny jeweled watch
pinned to her bosom. noted that it was
past the noon hour and decided to go.
She saw in moment that the gate was
locked and the key beyond her reach.
She shook the gate violently, but might
as well have shaken one of the huge
oaks that stood about the cemetery.
For the first time in her life she took
account of the fact that the sharp
pointed iron fence was eight feet high
a genuine cheveaux-d e-frise, intended to
keep out the small boy. She looked
around to call for assistance. but there