Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1905-11-11
The Soldier Who
Did Not Return
GOriginal.1

IN front or ner CABIN, the latter De-
Ing chiefly morning glories. They are
rightly named. No flower is more III
keeping with a bright summer morn
ing; none more delicately reflects it's
glory. Then, too, there was the fra
GRANGE of the country, heightened by
newly moved field on the other side
Of the road. After having eaten my
breakfast l sat on the porch enjoying
the delicious country landscape, the
odors, the songs Of the birds. After the
breakfast dishes she came out to do
some pruning, and [ fell into converse
ton with her. During our chat |
mentioned that l had recently return
ed from Cuba.
"Cuba" she said, slight tremor
passing over her. "Yor have been to
CubaY
81 came from there a month ago.
odd you see anything of my son
there?'
"Your son? What is he like? What
is his name?"
"He is tall. His hair and eyes are
like that bird cawing in the tree over
there
Ills name? You have not told me
his name"
Harry"
BY this time I saw in the PARKWAY
look that there would be no practical
use in getting information from her
and let her talk on according to her
own sweet will.
"When the war came," she said,
"Harry was just eighteen years old.
He wanted to go as soldier, but he
saw that it would break my heart to
part with him, and he promised to stay
with me- But / saw that he had come
to an age when to stay in this little
nest was not natural, just as the young
birds fly away when they are grown,
so told him he had better go. For a
week longer he kept his promise,
though l had released him. He used
to walk back and forth in the road,
and knew he was thinking Of the eX-
citing scenes going on in the war, and
again l told him that he must not
mind me, but go. Then he gave in
and, going to a recruiting station, en-
listed.
81 remember the morning they march
ed away. Harry didn't want me to go
to see them off, but somehow l feared
that 1 would never see him again. So
/ put on my best hat and cloak and
walked all the way to the town. The
streets were crowded, but when 1 told
them that my son Harry was one of
the soldiers they made way for me,
and stood right in front of the people
lining the street where the boys were
to pass. 1t wasn't long before l heard
the drums and the music, and then
they came. l wouldn't have seen Har-
ry among so many, but he saw me and
called 'Motherv 1t was only a smile
/ saw through my tears, and then they
home. It was desolate for me to come
back here without the boy l had taken
care of from the day he was born"
The old woman paused to wipe
tear from her eye. She was lost for
the moment in memory which she did
not need to describe in words, for it
was painted in the expressive lines Of
her face.
"Did you hear from him occasional
ly?' l asked.
II heard once a week or Oftener till
they got to fighting down before San
In OF Iaft 7 GOT
were fighting all the time. Harry
wrote that every day they were draw
Ing nearer to the town and when it
was taken they would all go home-he
would come home to me and never go
away any more. l haven't heard a
word from him from that day to this"
There was tremble in the voice
when she spoke the last sentence.
"And did no one of his comrades ever
tell you anything about him."
Ills captain came to see me. / re-
member every word he said, for I
have repeated them every day since he
spoke them. Harry was the best man
had in my ranks he said, until he
was wounded and sent to the hospital
the day before the surrender. l went
there to see him, and he told me that
he wanted to get we'll for the sake Of
his old mother, who was counting the
days till he would come back to her,
and lie made me promise that if If
went north-frst-I would go to see
you and tell you about him. So I've
come to tell you that-well, he wasn't
we'll enough to come with us, but when
he's better he'll surprise you some
morning by walking in on you as
sound as he was the day he left you
1t was plain from these words that
the captain, though he might have been
brave enough to face the Spaniards,
was too cowardly to tell this old wo-
man that her son had died for his
country. Five years had passed with
out tidings, but they had not unde-
ceived the mother, who hoped on that
he she had nursed as a babe, who had
toddled in and out Of her cabin as a
child and loft hnr on thn vnron of