Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1903-05-28
"He took his life

"He took his life
Just capable of one heroic aim, and
threw it in the thickest of the fight.
What matter? Since Aurora failed
him first!"
e. B. Browning.
Jean Charters, stepping out into the
pearl and silveriness of dawn and
dew, sighed-and then smiled at sight
of the riches spread before her.
Again it was Decoration Day, an oc-
casion which in this little western
town was one almost of festivity, so
great was the gathering from the sur
rounding farms, so gay the girls in
their new summer finery, so stirring
the martial music of the local band.
Even the pathetic sight of the handful
of old soldiers, marching in depleted
ranks to the cemetery on the hillside,
but emphasized the pleasure of the
young, who found in the holiday en-
joyment at once innocent and rever-
ent.
Miss Charters walked down the
prim gravel walk between the low
green barberry hedge. She held daint-
lily aside the skirt of her crisp, white
wrapper, lest it be touched by the
wet twigs on either side. Her spirited
gold brown head turned to left and
right as she mentally calculated the
floral wealth of her little garden. None
would have dreamed that over that
same radiant head thirty summers had
passed, so girlishly slender was the
erect and graceful figure, so smooth
the white brow, so luminous the long,
pansy-purple eyes under the slim
black brows. She had swung the
basket from her arm and was shipping
from the great SNOWFALL bush at the
end of the path its first contribution,
when voice came piping to her from
over the gate.
mis- Chartris, you got mas dress
done?"
"Just finished it at IL last night,
Billy" She smiled at the freckled
faced boy as she moved to go back to
the house. She returned, carrying
bundle wrapped in newspapers. There
don't crush 1t, laddle!"
The boy fingered, shamefacedly He
was not bad looking boy, barring the
freckles. He kept casting furtlve
glances at a second-story window IN
the little cream-colored cottage, where
the blinds were still drawn.
"Is-is she---" jerking thumb
indicating the house, "goin with you
to the cem'try?"
"Roslne?" Miss Charters was ruth
lessly shipping off every robin which
had presumed to show its blue head
in the long bed border. co. she will
go! Her mother Is buried there, you
know. Rosine will go with me-"
I'm goin', tool" blurted Billie. Then,
as though overwhelmed by the mag
nitude of the admission, he skipped
away his mothers dress crushed reck-
lessly against his throbbing heart, and
his bare feet, as yet guiltless Of tan,
kicking up a dust which hid his fiery
bushes. AN I'll wear my new
clothes" chanted Billie. "I'll wear my
best clothes-an' a collar!"
1t was royal burden Jean Charters
had gathered when at last she laid the
shears in the basket brimfu of blooms.
There were trailing sprays of white
and gold springa stars, peonies, pink
and crimson, and white; honeysuckle,
amber and rose, and carmine; blush
roses, pale and velvety; sweetbriar,
delicately, yet intensely fragrant, and
many a single flower which, courier
like, had blossomed in prophetic beau
ty. Back of the glittering window
glass of the little home she approached
were the glowing house plants which
were soon to be transferred to the gar
den. These, rising tier on tier, glow
ing geraniums, fragrant heliotrope,
brilliant hibiscus, golden mignonette,
were destined with their harder breth-
rem to yield tribute to death.
Aunt Jean-Auntie Jeanl" rang a
fresh young voice. I'm dressed
Nora dressed me! o, may help you
fix the flowers? And how soon may
we go on the hill?"
Jean laid her basket on hall chair
just in time to catch IN her outflung