Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1901-05-25
lecten and well nigh forgotten for

i centered about the East cemetery. Nc
mention whatever was made of the
burying ground on the hill.
'"Thar's goin to be great dotn's Me
mortal day, hear" said the widow,
Jane Bump, who was calling on Miss
Hetty Pringle one early May after
noon. st,A &
Miss. Hetty, a faded. wtthered old
maid, stopped pairing apples long
enough to murmur a gentle assent.
The widow. who was an acknowledged
authority on all the gossip of the dis
trict ratified volubly ON: They're a-goin
to hev the band over from May Town,
an Elder SCOTS arcomin from Dur
keyville, an they tell me that Lawyer
Frank Griswold is, to speech make. /
heerd him last year to Sherman, an,
land, low he did boiler! He's got a
voice you kim hear more'n mile, an
when he called on them soldiers by
name, in sherman buryin ground, l
shouldn't hev ben one mite surprised
to see 'em git right out Of their graves.
Gabr'el's trump want nothin to it."
And the widow who was facetiously
| inclined shook her rotund shoulders
with laughter.
Miss Hetty smiled sympathetica1ly
and went on pairing apples.
'sThen, after the exercise, singin by
the Presbyterian ansBaptist choirs an
| prayin by the ministers an :yellin by
Lawyer Griswold, then the bandit
| play real solemn music, an everybody'n
go round an lay flowers on the soldiers
| graves. Oh, it'll be grand! It's high
| time Brokenstraw was up an a-doin
somethin like this. tell the folks
we're way behind the times.''i y.
81 suppose" said Miss Hetty nerv-,
ously, that they'll decorate in both
cemeteries" >
Both cemeteriesv' cried the Widow
Bump in amazement. "Why, there
hain't no soldiers buried on the hill!"
There's William Bond,". said Miss
Hetty timidly, and even as she spoke
faint flush crept to her faded cheek,
as the dying rays Of the sunset illu-
mine for one instant frosty, icebound
landscape.
civilian Bondw with a sort of dis
dain. HE! Why, Miss Hetty, you
know he never amounted to row of
pins. He was wuthless, shiftless
critter. dunno why anybody should
want to decorate him" ( ~ ~
And yet he died for his country just
as much as the Others" interposed
Miss Hetty, with a trembling voice.
''Well, good land Hetty Pringle,
who is a-goin to climb that hill an
scramble through them berry bushes
to put flowers on the -grave%of sechea
good for nothin'
,"Don'tp' said Miss Hetty, rising
fierce1y. y can't bear to hear; you
speak so of him ---of any man who
gave up his life. for; his country"
"Waal, waat,' retorted the widow
testify, 'Idunnosas, il hurts him. He's
been dead long enough, :sohe shouldn't
have no feelin, an as. for. you, | do re-;
member now you~was kinder sweet on
him. WAL, waal! No offense." And
the widow took herself away to tell
the story at her next visit. .
Miss Hetty Sat as one in "a dream
The panorama of her simple life IN
folded before her. She saw herself
young and fair again; she recalled
handsome, happy go lucky face she had
loved many years ago-the face Of the
ne'er do we'll of the village; she heard
again his voice as he said goodby to
her: when come back, I'll try to be
different I'll make man of myself,
and then-Hetty!"
She remembered how she had an
swered that question. Again the lone
ly little old maid felt strong arms in
fold her and the pressure Of young lips
on her cheek. But he never came back
to claim her, and he lay now alone, for
gotten by his former neighbors and
friends-by all save by one faithful,
sad old heart.
Twilight deepened into night. Miss
Hetty rose and, lighting her lamp, sat
down to read, as was her evening GUS
tom. Tonight she picked up volume
of old verse. 1t was one William Bond,
private, had given her when they went
to school together The first poem
that caught her attention was:
How sleep the brave who sink to rest
By all their country's wishes blest?
BY fairy hands their knell is rung;
By forms unseen their dirge is sung.
There Honor comes, pilgrim gray
To bless the turf that wraps their clay.
Miss Hetty sighed. turned over few
pages and read: !
On Fame's eternal camping ground
Their silent tents spread,
And Glory guards with solemn round
The bivouac of the dead.
"Their silent tentsy' The words rang
in Miss Hetty's ears. She pictured the
tents of the living-a vast forest of
snowy canvas, the white tents Of an ar
my. From the corners of, her fancy |
came suddenly the crash of splendid
brasses. She saw flags futtering, heard
sharp commands, the tramping and |
neighing of horses, the jingle of accou-
terments, and then bugle call cut the
silence Of the lonely little room.
The scene suddenly changed to the
tents of the silent-those low, green /
tents whose curtain, as the poet has
Il s.. .