Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1903-06-18

/ Aoi whose sake 4 would scale your
sombre old walls in the face of all your
cannon if / thought it would give me
the hope of winning her.
You talk of battles! It's easier to
storm up in the wild craze of battle
and wrest victory and possession
against long odds than 10 dawdle
through life and see the thing you
ardently crave beyond your reach. To
realize that you may have Dead sea
fruit in abundance, but never the only
JOY which would make life worth hav-
ing. You talk of ancient battles and
forgotten struggles. Mine is a battle
OF to-day for my life's happiness. and
I've lost it. I'll go out west and look
after my mines, or III go cruising, and
III play the same old bluff society
game. But, rain or shine, what do /
eare?'
Tut! TUT" said the old fort con-
temptuously. "You should have been
born 40 years ago. You have all the
capabilities of the soldier who led his
men in a breathless rush up these
walls, and you look like him. But his
was a courage which would not admit
of defeat. Yours-?"
Again the breeze swept over the
fort, fiinging out the flag, which had
been dropping at its staff, waiting for
sunset, the turn of the tide and a wind
from over the seas.
"You look like him. continued the
old fort. "He was dauntless fellow.
He made superb charge, leading his
men up TO scale these walls. He fell
just where you sit, and yon tuft Of
primroses blossoms above his head.
The difference between you and Col.
| Mclver is that he was product of the
tempestuous times in which he lived
and you have spent your years after
the manner of the wealthy idler. You
accept defeat where he would have
struggled 20 the end, whatever the end
may have been"
Hugh McIyer glanced up at the
slanting wall of the big earthwork, at
the tufted grass covering its sides
and the sentinel passing to and from.
Yes, McIyer was a great soldier.
He fell leading on his men just where
you are Longing, young man." said
the old fort.
To-day this is a very peaceful spot.
Life among the small garrison is a
quiet routine Of easy labors, and only
the officers wives quarrel over small
matters or play cards and have music.
Some Of them are pretty. The children
laugh and romp on the sunny side Of
the parade ground, and the nurses sit
together and talk of what they see and
hear.
"But can't forget those other days,
when cannon roared from these para
pets and flame and smoke swept
through the embrasures now closed
up; when the sound of the clash of war
rang out and assaulting columns
dashed up against my walls, and the
din Of battle covered the groans of the
wounded and dying.
To-day the bugle call and the SEN
try's step are the only sounds which
disturb the quietude of evening and
night"
1T does seem as if we are smaller
men than our fathers" unused the
young man stretched on the grass.
This old fort has seen heroic times
men dying for their convictions.
swell, a man to-day is not called on
to storm forts.
an go out to those silver mines and
look after them. Not bad idea TO do
a little mining myself. Perhaps she'll
think little better Of me if she thinks
at all"
"Why, hellol" called a gay voice inn
periously, incoming up at the stars,
or at the walls of the fort? Aren't
they formidable2 Imagine your cotil-
Ion leaders of to-day leading a storm
ing party up that slope. Maj. Thomp-
son was telling me last night how the
Fortieth Pennsylvania stormed up and
nearly took the work. The colonel and
nearly all the officers fell Perhaps
we are standing on their graves now
this minute. They were buried with
military honors at the foot of the fort,
so he said"
She had stopped and stood gazing up
at the great slope of the wall, the flag
staff overhead and the indistinct sem
try pacing slowly along, while Hugh
McIyer stood looking at the fine spir-
tied face and graceful figure by his
side.
The Fortieth. That was my IA
Tiers regiment. Then il was here he
lost his life" Hugh said slowly.
4 pause followed. then she turned
and held ont both hands.
Forgive me. did not know. How
heroic,"
They turned silently from the grass
grown rampant.
u am going TO the post Office. Walk
with me-" she said, with a radiant
smile. " and let US forget hostilities."
II was a slow and rather silent ram
BILE to the queer little post Office in
the center Of the village.
a. last fascinating recollection 20