The evening times. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1895-1902, 1901-12-11
Churning Still
BIZ EMMA HOWARD WIGHT.


spot We had pitched our tents upon the
banks of the rushing tumbling creek,
grit by wild looking hills, covered with
moss encrusted rocks and tall. beautifully
tinted grasses Above the hills rose the
blue OF the mountains, melting into the
softer, tenderer blue of a morning sky,
OF wildly outlined against a rich gold
and crimson sunset On hill above Us
stood a picturesque old mill, from the
great wheel of which the water fell in
glit-e-ing cascades; higher still was the
miiler's pretty home. In the yard the
bushes were weighted with roses and pur-
pie and white lilac, while the orchard at
the back Of the house was mass Of white
and pink bloom. Nature seemed to re
bUke the grim monster, war, trailing hor-
ror and suffering and devastation over
all her fair beauty, until for very shame,
in that sweet springtide. he seemed to
hide his head for time, and the songs
of mating birds replaced the roar Of can
non and musketry The miller and his
family, up in the pretty farm house. might
have forgotten that there was bloody
strife in their fair land, but for cur white
tents and blue coated men down on the
banks Of Cedar Creek
Was there ever a IoveIier springtime to
me- 1t was a time of peace AID rest,
and, TO ne, of sweet, subtle happiness.
OF all the week Monday was the red letter
day, for, as The sun rose up from behind
the mountains, I, with several compan-
ions, would make my way up the winding
road TO a little shed standing under the
shadow Of a giant oak There we would
wait, watching the gate OF the farm house
high on the hill above us After g little
while that gate would open, and the slen-
der form Of girl carrying a churn in
one hand, ana a pail of rich yellow cream
in the other, would come tripping down
the winding path toward Us. OFF would
90 all cur caps, and simultaneously We
would exclaim,
Good morning, Miss SaIIie; we've come
to help you churn.'
Al. Miss SaIIie, Miss SaIIie! Long years
have passed since then. I am grey head
ed now, fatheT-aye. a grand1ather-but
can see you as plainly as I saw you
then, with the smile on your red lips, the
early sunlight on your golden hair. and
the bloom on your cheeks as pink as the
apple blossoms up in the old orchard.
And I sometimes ask myself a little
guiltily If any days in after life were ever
as happy as those spring mornings. fra
grant with the odors Of roses. when the
boys in blue helped the fair faced South
ern girl 10 churn under the bIossoming
oak How sweet, how gracious. sou were
to Us. stanch little Southerner Though YOU
were. How merrily you laughed at our
awkwardnsss in pouring in the cream and
handling the dasheri And. an. how pleas
ed were your sweet blue eyes as you
watched is drink, with such undisguised
relish, the cool, delicious buttermiIkl
Then enc day came the order to break
camp, and. with dull. heavy pain at nv
heart. I marcted up the winding road. II
vas Monday, Just about sunrise. too. and
as we went by the farm house. we saw
Miss Sallie standing at the gate with her
churn and cream pail
Three cheers for Miss SaIIie," cried
one Of the boys, and three loud cheers
went up 10 the morning sky.
she smiled and bIushed, and perhaps It
was only my fancy that the blue ewes
were sad and wistfuI. The blossoms from
the oak had formed a soft. snowy carpet
around the little shed. 4 lump rose IN
my throat as We tramped by. crushing and
discoioring II. and. soldier though I was
20 the hearts core I would have given
five years OF my life to have STAYED be-
hind and helped Miss Sallfe churn lust
once more
The var came to an end, and I went
back 10 my Northern hcme. In time
"ooed Northern sweetheart and married
a Northern wife. The long years went by.
children we're born to US, grew uD. and
married. and grandchildren stood about my
knee And when they cIamored for
story I would tell them how the boys in
blue once helped Miss SaiIfe to churn down
in old Virginia Ny wife would always
smile as she listened to the story. and
one day she said to me,
4 should like very much to see Miss
Sallie- Suppose we take trip down South
and look her up"
Well though I am a little ashamed to
confess it, my elderly heart bounded like
a boys, and, as I eagerly assented, my
wife smiled again and said,
Z shall always believe that Miss Salle
was your first love"
But she would nerer have married a
Yankee" replied, laughing a little coz
sciousIy.
I don't know about that my wife
went on. The Yankee was too much of
q coward to ask her L wonder is she's
single STILL" and wondered also.
So one day my wife and 1 started for
the South. We went to Strasburg. a lit
tie town at the foot of the Massanutten
about five miles from Cedar
Creek That night my wife informed me
that she had been interviewing the wife
of the proprietor in regard to Miss SaIIie.
+-She still lives at the old place" said
my wife, and she is Miss SaIIie still"
The next morning the sun was hardly
up when We started for Cedar Creek. I
was very silent during that drive. The
sun was rising above the mountains when
We turned down the winding road leading
to the mill.
There, there is the shedr' I cried.
as turn in the read brought it in sight
And perhaps we shall find Miss SalIie
STILL said NY wife, laughing.
The carriage now stood directly in front
Of the shed. and my heart gave a quick
leap as I laid my hands on the reins and
brought the horses to a standstiH, for
woman stood within and turned her face in
surprised enquiry toward US The next