The citizen-Republican. (Scotland, Bon Homme County, S.D.) 1???-19??, 1909-05-27

ANAAiS - SitAD
civil war broke out. her young heart was
a very storm center of rebellion. The
imperious southern beauty walled
against her fate, which in the form OF
yellow fever had devastated the dear
old plantation home and sent ner, an
heiress, but parentless, to her only Nv
Ing relatives, an uncle ana aunt She
shivered at their undemonstratlVe re-
ception, at the severity OF h suostan-
tial farmhouse and the simple service
Of the househld. And most of all was
she disguised with the undemocratlc
customs of the north.
On the plantation the overseer was
an evil to be endured and utilized. put
not to be received on terms of equality.
Yet here Henry Willis, the ~strappfng,
square shouldered, clear eyed young
man who managed Uncle Johnsons
great farm, ate at the same table with
the family and drove with them to
church on Sundays; And when the
garrulous aunt old her that Henry had
been a waif. taken from the county
poorhouse. Lucille's proud little head
vas held more aggressiTely | than
yer.
Yet It was Henry Willis who shed
the first rays of sunshine in Lucille's
saddened life. He broke the best
horses on the farm for her to ride. He
initiated her into the beauties of north
ern woodlands. When she spoke
hungrily of the open tireplaceS at the
plantation, Henry banished the cheer
less box stove from her room and built
a tiny fireplace In its stead. She
longed for the flowers and the birds
and the sunshine, and Henry built q
great lower box In her south window
and bought q bird when he went to
Cincinnati on business for Uncle john
son. And he knew she was grateful,
for when he o UP to the house from
the frosty fields he could see her dark
brown head among the blooming
plants.
When the war clouds gathered. Lu-
ellie was the most miserable girl in
Ohio. She hated those cold blooded
northerners who could not understand
the right Of the white race to exact
service from the black. She wished
she was a man and could don the gray
uniform. She even thought she might
write to President Davis and offer her
nurse to the cause. And. oh. 10Y she
despised the stolid young fellows. drill
Ing daily and calmly waiting orders
to join the federal forces. Probably
she incorrectly measured h grim
strength and determination of these
northern lads, so different from the
dashing, impetuous chivalry of her
southern friends.
Then came the most dreadful days of
all, when Henry walked into the farm
house clad in the fateful blue uniform.
He had never told them of his inten-
ton, and he had always RETAINED
from discussing the vexed question.
Perhaps that is II reason the girl
had learned to care for him. Under
her breath she had sung a tender re-
frain:
He loves me and he will not take
arms against my lei south"
He followed her up the stairs,
straight into the room where every
thing spoke Of his tender thoughtful
ness. She walked to the window
where h flowers bloomed r%iotously
and the bird caroled madly. Then he
~passionately:
"How dare you come to me in that
uniform"
He never finched. but tool both of
her hands In his.
That was the hardest part of all,
look in your eyes. This is harder thar
the thought Of battles and wounds
and prisons. But I could do nothing
be a man-not ever for your
love, the dearest thing in the world
to me-"
to the mai at her side this was worse
than an outburst of passionate re-
proach.
I'm not fighting against your people
Inc your principles. Lucille, but for
my flag and my president. They both
me. and Lucille, Lucille, can't
you understand? Can't you say some
thfng?"
Then the girl turned and looked at
him with cold. pitiless eyes.
Yes, l can say just this l hate you
and hope l may never look on your
face again."
Then she turned back to the indow
but the bird had stopped singing and
the flowers seemed to bow their heads
in sympathy.
Henry walked down the narrow
stairway; then came the murmur of
voices, q long, shiyering sob. and she
knew that Aunt Johnson had parted |
with the boy who was as dear to her
as II he a been her frstborn.
n weeks dragged drearily into
months, frightened at the Johnson
farm only by rare letters from south
ern amps. The kindly farmer and
his wife a dreams Of promotion for
their boy, who had started in as a pri-
vate. They talked bravely Of the day
when ne should come home with straps
his shoulder. Then came a MESSAGE
from Libby prison and-silence, The
war was over. the wounded and the
we'll came home, and there came also
silent soldiers who were laid to rest in
the village cemetery. But Henry was
among neither the we'll nor the wound
ed nor yet the v~oiceless soldiers. But
from the Johnson farm house went
forth many a prayer, many a heart
broken sigh, for those who lay in the
trenches to the south-the unknown
dead.
After a fashion the farm was work.
I'D and the crops were garnered, but
the old couple seemed never to rally
from their loss. And then came the
bitter winter, which brought pneumo-
MIA and peace to them both.
Lucille was alone. The villagers and
farmers whispered that
now the naughty beauty would prob
ably sell o the old place and go back
to her beloved south, but her lawyers
knew better. A strange within seized
the girl to keep the place Just as it had
always stood. She hired a competent
man and wife to assist her and went
at the work in fashion that made
the critical neighbors open their eyes:
not that h cared what they said or
thought. She had made no friends
the village women.
Yet one rare day in May as she drove
back to the farm from a trip to the viz
lage she made the first overtures OF
friendship. A young was walk
ing toward the cemetery, a mass OF
spring flowers clasped against her
black dress. Lucille knew the story
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