Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1901-05-28
SUE LYLE'S SORROW.

~ UE LYLE was the village her
~ NIT. For twenty years she had
~ never been outside her own gate
but twice, and those two times were
when she followed her old father and
mother to their last resting place among
their kindred dead, Once she had been
the village belle. and no more Iight-heart-
ed, sunny-faced girl could have been
found in all the country side than just
pretty Sue Lyle, the wood-carver's only
daughter.
In these bright, halycon days she had
many suitOrs; but Sue was no cOquette.
and she smiled only on one-handsOme
Luke Hamilton, the young artist. Luke
was poor orphan boy, and had his way
to make in the world, but Sue loved
him, and the morning before he went to
the army he put the engagement ring
on her finger.
1t was a full year before she looked
into his dear face again, and then his
furlough lasted only three days. But
Luke was a good correspondent, and
every week brought her 4 CHEEKY letter.
There came a time-a Saturday morn
ing in the month of May, 1S63-when
Susan turned away from the little cOun-
try postofice without her accustomed let
ter: and before the day was over she
learnsd that there had been a great bat
tie IN the Charlottesville ground, and
thSt her noble lover had been left dead
upon the bloody field.
The blow almost killed her. For days
and weeks she went about the house like
one in a dream. She could not shed
tear, and no complaint escaped her lips,
but her heart was broken. and her pale
face and hollow eyes appealed most elo-
quently to the hearts of all who came
to express their sympathy.
After the first keen edge of her sorrow
wore away, she arose from her stony
grief put out of sight all the sweet to-
kens of the precious dead, and without
a word went back to her daily house
hold duties. But she was never the same
girl again. Her loss seemed to embitter
her life, to make her hard and exacting
even with those she best loved, and after
a while her young friends hurt by her
Indifference, ceased their efforts to keep
a hold on her heart. She never went
outside of the gate, not even to church,
and after her parents died, weeks and
weeks would pass without her even ex-
changing words with single soul, except
the grocer's boy who came every Satur-
day morning to deliver her weeks supply
of groceries. Sometimes the neighbor
women would run in with their knitting
and budget of news, and sit an hour or
so with the poor lone woman, but the
welcome they received was not cordial
enough to invite a speedy return.
So the years rolled away, and Susan
Lyle drifted further and further away
from human love and sympathy, and
the villagers, when they spoke of her
ut all, sighed over the wreck of a life
which had once been so full of fragrance
and beauty. Though the little cottage
was kept as neat and trim as hands
could make it, and the fence around the
lot in the best of repair. the severe plain
ness of the home, outside and in, was so
marked as to be positively painful
From the morning when with aching
heart the disappointed woman had
locked her piano and banished from her
sight all the pretty adOrnments which had
given such bewitching charm and grace
to the home. it had been her studied care
to see that not a trace of beauty should
ever creep in to brighten the gloom she
considered so fitting to'her shattered life.
There was one thing, hOwever-the
rose bush which Luke had brought her
from the Sunny SOuth-that she had not
the heart to Danish from her sight. He
had been at great pains to procure it,
and had carried it all the way home in
his pocket. Then, too, it was his hands
that had planted it, and she could not
pluck it up by the roots. although it
grieved her to the heart to see 1t grow
ing so strong and thrifty, right at he-
very door, while poor Lake was lying in
an unknown grave, with not even a rose
bush TO mark where he was buried. She
had promised him that he should have
the very first rose that bloOmed. But
before that time came round he had
sealed his patriotism with his life.
The bush grew and twined all over the
side Of the little cottage, and every year
its wealth Of blossoms made the whole
neighbOrhOod fragrant; but the roses all
withered and dropped off when they had
given out their sweetness, for Susan
never had the heart to pick a single one,
after the promise she had made to Luke,
Though ut first il panied her TO look
NJ this last gift of one so dearly beloved
as the years came and went she learned
TO love that bush as if it had been a liv-
ing thing, and TO look forward eagerly
70 the coming Of the summer months
when she could feast her eyes on the
only friends that had any claim upon
her affeCtiOnS-Luke'S roses.
One cool evening in May. more than 4
score Of years after all the sweetness had
been crushed out OF SuSan's life, 4 deli
cate-looking boy came slowly up the
walk which led 10 her door, and timjdly
asked shelter Tor the night Susan was
not in the habit Of entertaining strang
ers. but before she had time 10 send him
away. the boy, who really was i'll, stag
gered forward a step or two. and then
fell faintiug on the very threshold. In
stantly there flashed into her mind s
line 'of that old war song. "Br0thers
fajntinS az the door" which she and
Luke had sung together the very morn
Ing he had gone away for the last time