Rock Island Argus., 1901-12-27
THE DAILY
SHORT STORY.
The Prisoners Return

she had another beau, n student at
Amherst. but / remembered once at a
party when she had TO choose n partner
she selected me instead of Jim. so ]
thought I'd go and tell her | was off
for Dixie in the morning. / didn't stay
long, for Jim was there. Martha went
with him out to the gate. l reached out
my big sunburned hand. and she took
IT in both her own and held it quite n
bit, and she said: "Bennle, I'm sorry
you're going TO the war. You're too
young a man and too good a man To
stand up and be shot at" Then Jim
appeared on the scene, and / went
away half curslng my honest hand for
being so big and so brown. while Jim's
was as white asa lily, with n great
flashing diamond on the smallest of
his slender fingers.
Talk about standing up as a target
for bulletsi That's nothing. nothing at
all compared with lying down to starve
in n foul prison. AS the days passed
into weeks, and the weeks, so long. into
months so much longer that l lost all
count, how many and many a time J.
looked at my white, bony hands and
wished they were as big and as tanned
as they used to be. and when 4 would
have prayed for an ending<o my mis-
cry, how well remembered that Mar
tina had said i was TOO young to die,
and the way she had held my hand
still thrilled me and kept me alive, AMI
l said over and over to myself thou.
sand times. with grim determination.
what Dr, Miller had so often repeated,
"WhiIaNhere is life there is hope" and
at last 1 was exchanged and discharg-
ecG Oh, how happy l was to be set
free! A great joy buoyed me up for
the long, weary journey home.
When at last the stage set me down
In the familiar village postoffice. l was
so weary and wasted no one seemed to
recognize me, but looked at me in a
pitying way I could not understand.
and so 1 did not speak to any one. but
staggered down the hill to the old
farmhouse, trying in vain to scent the
supper or the Glove pinks. | did not
know my precious mother had been
dead almost a year, but when l reach
ed the gate l felt the change. 1t hung
by one hinge and swayed and creaked
with a dismal sound that seemed to me
like the groaning of ghost. 1t weak
ened me so that | had to rest awhile
before going down the long walk, still
lined by my mothers flower beds. But.
oh. how neglected they looked. AS
neared the porch l saw n red calf tied
to n lilac bush, one that my mother
had herself planted on the day she
was n bride, and then / seemed to
know that she was gone. War kills
women as we'll as men. She thought
her only boy was dead, and she had
nothing to live for.
That was too good house to be long
unoccupied. and DR.. Miller had rented
it to n needy family of foreigners, re-
queSting that my room should he left
just as my mother had last arranged
1t. The woman who occupied it allow
ed me to go right up TO my own airy
chamber. where everything was sacred
ly familiar. How deliciously soft and
clean the bed seemed, and l cried my
self to sleep.
The first thing I heard in the morn
ing was not the chirping of the robins,
as in the olden time, but the loud bawl-
ing of that steer calf under my win
dow. 1 covered my head with the bed
clothes and was the poor. weak baby
over again. When 1 awOke later in the
day, good DR.. Miller was sitting by my
bedside. He helped me dress and took
me home to breakfast, where the talk
ing as well as the cooking was all
United States. but somehow 1 wasn't
hungry and longed to ask what had be-
come of Martha.
going to Holyoke the next day to hear
hov- hn f,,a oil
with him. 1t was n long drive, but we
took 1t slow and easy, and 1 had my
I'LL of fresh air and recovered my ap-
petite. We were a little late to the
exhibition and found the chapel al
ready crowded. but the good doctor
finally succeeded in getting a seat well
up in front. and there, right before us,
was Amherst Jim. just as slim and
white as ever. He fingered his watch
chain and petted his mustache and
made his diamond glisten and devour-
ed the platform with his eyes. just as
he used to I'm the old red schoolhouse
when Martha was going to speak her
piece. Now he was full fedged ply
sician and DR.. Miller's partner. We
had a long time to wait. The essays
were lengthy and learned. and Mar
tha's was the last. The other gradu-
ates wore white, but she was all in
black, with a Grape collar. L looked
questioningly into her fathers face.
He put his arm around me and whis-
pered. "She wears mourning for your
mother-and for you"
For my mother and for mech, the
pain of it, oh, the Joy of it! And,
whether it was the pain or the joy or
the crowded room or the way Jim look
ed at Martha, I cannot tell. but some-
how everything slipped away into
nothingness.
When I came back to consciousness.
the folks were all gone. all but DIR.
Miller and his daughter. and Martha
was holding me as handy as she is
holding that blessed baby now, aud
l.