The Norfolk weekly news-journal., 1901-03-15
The SOME1H|NGU UNKNOWN
BY ARTHUR PENDENNIS ST. JOHN.

z BY ARTHUR PENDENNIS ST. JOHN. z
' The wind rose early that October
morning and came over the meadows,
shaking showers Of red leaves from the
elms. Little Sister Cynthia came out
to me to the dairy with her Shaker
bonnet pushed off her glossy hair, rus
Ting the heaps of leaves as she walked
and stopping to listen ut the sound as
IL she liked 1t.
"What are you doing, child?" I ask
ed, for Of late l had come to fear for
her, she was so young and so taken up
with noticing ordinary things, like the
catbirds that had a nest out by the
spring, or the way the hills looked
when they were spotted all over with
shadows. My heart ached sometimes
when she would turn her great shining
eyes to me. She was sanctified, l
knew, but it didn't seem safe for SIM
pie Shaker folk to be seeing something
out of the ordinary in everyday things.
What am l doing, Sister Caroline?
Why, just listening" she said.
Il don't see much sense listening to a
lot Of dead leaves rustling," l answer
ed. 81 always feel gloomy and uncom-
Portable until they're raked up and set
on fire"
That's the reason I like It," she
said, because it sounds solemn"
you'll find enough solemn things in
this world without hunting up dead
leaves" l answered. "You are likely
to hear q solemner and awfuller sound
before long"
What do you mean" she asked.
"They are getting ready to fight" l
said, pointing over the hills. Brother
Paul has just told me that there is go.
ing to be a great battle. They will
MAIN and murder each other"
How terrible" she said, her lips
q%uivering. why do men do such
things"
Before l could answer her there
came the clatter Of horses, and-a par
ty Of soldiers rode by, with young
Henry Pendleton at their head.
"Ah," l said, she's a fine lad. It's a
pity he was born into wickedness to be
spoiled"
HE doesn't look wicked" she said
as the young officer waved his cap
to us.
"Nay, Cynthia" 1 returned, my fear
coming back; "think not of mans
looks. 1t does not become a child Of
the church."
"Why I never think Of him, Sister
Caroline" she said seriously. II never
saw him but once or twice, when he
came over to the village for Brother
Paul. I can't even remember what he
is like except his voice when he laughs
and his brown, curly hair"
"Ah, my child" l answered, "remem-
Der that love is lust and leadeth to
damnation! Do not let the thought
enter your heart"
ooh, Sister Caroline" she said, with
a shudder. you know l could sooner
bring myself to do murder than to
me Of" And she covered her eyes, as
II that could shut out the thought.
Cynthia was molding the little but
ter pats and printing them when the
battle began. We could hear the sound
of the cannon like faroff thunder over
the hills. At first the peals were few
and far between; then they grew fast
er until In the middle Of the afternoon,
when 1t was an angry roar, sullen, like
a storm In August. The men were
blowing In the fields. and l could see
them stop at the burrows end to speak
to each other. We women tried to 60
about our tasks. but generally met to-
gether to shake u heads over the
wicked men who were shooting and
numbering. Cynthia seemed to feel II
more than all of us and when the roar
grew louder shuddered as one with a
chill.
The sun went down In a smoky haze,
all red and bloody. Then there was a
pause, the very wind stopped still, and
suddenly a long, deep roll ran of to the
south, louder and fercer than the rest.
Then all grew still, and the darkness
came on swiftly. Cynthia was sitting
with me. and when we heard no more
abe breathed a high of relief and said.
AT last" AS she went to get the can
dies a solitary horseman clattered
down the road.
At daybreak there were the tramp of
many soldiers and the clank of arms in
our peaceful village. We left our break
fasthalf eaten ourselves to give them
food and drink. I would have spared
Cynthia. for some were rough men,
wild eyed and smoke begrimed, but she
came out with the rest and even went