The Black Hills union and western stock review. [volume] (Rapid City, S.D.) 1904-19??, 1905-05-26

ON the afternoon before Memorial
day Mr.. Floyd. the only florist in
Hamilton, was busy preparing the
floral pieces for the graves of the ma
tons heroes. Mr.. Folyd's son was pre-
pairing the empty frames by wrapping
the backs of them with tin foil and
then filling them with wet moss. 9th
er assistants were clipping the I'M
| mortelles and skillfully substituting
slender wire stems.
"Hello!" exclaimed the son. Here
is Miss Beaumas' sickle and sheaf.
Has she left her order yet"
Mr.. Floyd drew the back of his hand
over his sweaty forehead. NO, she
hasn't left her order yet, but you can
fix up the frame. She has left her or
der every year since Memorial day
was first kept, and she amt going to
stop now
Mr.. Floyd's beard has grown gray
since he first began to help people to
express their grief in flowers. In con-
sequence he knows the history of many
a sorrow. If you catch him in the
right mood he will tel you, with a
smile somewhere under his shaggy
beard and showing only at the corners
of his eye. just how long mourning
usually lasts. From his account books
he can tell you just how long this or
that widoWer's heart was sore after the
death of his first wife and trace his
second courtship in the diminishing
orders FOR corsage bouquets. The grief
of the widow is also shown and that
of the children who soon find there is
hardly enough of their Inheritance left
to. Justify them in buying flowers for
the graves of their parents. So, being
something of n philosopher, he knows
the sincere mournerS among his pa
irons and respects them accordingly
In fact, anyone else wishing for a
sheaf and sickle like Miss Beaumas'
for Memorial day would have been
obliged to seek it elsewhere. There
was no doubt in Mr.. FlOyd's mind
about the quality of her grief, for he
had known her and Jack Barclay when
they were schoolmates, and, having
given the order to have the piece made,
he resumed his work: -
Miss Beaumas certainly had some
thing on her mind. Although she had
on her prim little bonnet and her black
shawl was folded neatly about her
pinched shoulders, she sat and tapped
with her fingers on the table. A little
bag that evidently had money in it lay
before her.
His mother didn't send any lowers
last year" she thought to herself. Il
wonder if she will this year" Miss
Beaumas knew that the reason Mrs.
Barclay had not sent lowers was be-
cause she was i'll and too poor to buy
them. All she nae to live on was the
pension she received from the govern
ment, for her husband also had been a
soldier. and 1t all had to go to pay
her keep with the poor people who had
agreed to board and clOthe her and pro-
vide her with medicines for the pension.
To a woman of her pride this was bet
ter than going to a home" but no one
can know what she felt in being forced
to let Memorial day pass without a
token for her dead. Miss Beaumas
knew this. but her heart hardened, for
Mrs. Barclay had made her grief
heavier to bear. She a not hest
tated to wound the feelings of the
young girl whose mourning was as
open as her own when the dead soldier
had been brought home. She had sale
tina Miss Beaumas had e~ntrapped hin
and that if he had lived to marry hel
he would have married beneath him
Such things are hard to forgive, anc
they can never be forgotten. But Miss
Beaumas was now old and lonely her
self. Her needlework enabled her tt
have the barest necessities, and by
much saving in triiles she accumu
lated the necessary $40 every year tt
pay for the sickle and sheaf she al
ways brought to her hero's grave. Blu
she couldn't make up her mind to g.
!, and give the order as usual, for a vers'
of scripture from which her ministe
lldu plCSSllcu O. III SSi So"A>
I not be driven from her mind:
Therefore, If thou bring thy gift t.
the altar and there rememberest tina
thy brother hath aught against thee
!. leave they gift before the altar ant
go thy way. First be ~reconciled to tn,
r brother and then come and offer tn,
, gift"
:. The flowers were certainly an offer
!, ing, and his grave was an altar. A
last she rose as if in obedience to
: command rather than as one who ha
made a resolution. She replaced tn
!, little bag in the drawer Of the oil
:, fashioned press, then walked to wher
. Mrs. Barclay was living. The heav
/. ocor of cooking vegetables and tn
: querulous crying of children seemed t
= surge past the untidy woman who OK
Z ened the door. When Miss Beauma
= had explained her errand, she wa
! ushered without ceremony into tn
: room Of Mrs. Barclay. The invalid wa
x half propped up in bed, and her hand
lay on the dingy counterpane listlessl
apart and more expressive of hopeless
grief than even her sad face. Sh
started with surprise when the woma
told her who the visitor was that he
/. dim eyes could not see, for they ha
never met since the first bitter quar-
except beside his grave and then a
:. ways in silence. Had Miss Beaums
, come to gloat owe her misery? Mi:
o BeauflaS UNDERSTOOD, ana the TEA
- came to her eyes. When they wei
- alone, she tried to speak, but instea
= she dropped on her knees at the be-
&c side. At last she whispered brokenl.
- Cant you forgive me for havir
loved him? Tomorrow is Memori
. day, and 1 felt that 1 could not lay n
" Offering on that altar while there Wa
anger or hardness in my heart" Al
y she quoted the verse of scripture tn;
ie was on her mind.
y. Gar l forgiven" murmered the old
d woman. But there was no need "a
10 swering that question. The trembli1
:. tone of her voice told how great a +
y, lief such forgiveness was to her, al
VI her withered hand now strok ed the ha
- as gray as her own while Miss Bea
" mas bowed her head and sobbed. The
" anger passed from them like an e'
d shadow, and they talked of him. The
d was something new and delightful
n that, for they had never discussed hi
lie before. While they were still talkil
O. the woman came in with the dinnt
er The soup was thick and fat, and t
r tea was cold. When Miss Beaumas
n the older woman called her Matty nc
!" saw the food, she was angry a
eo stirred to pity.
IN The very idea Of offering such TO
n to an invalid seemed cruel to Mat
~ She almost ran back to her little hon