The Fargo forum and daily republican. [volume] (Fargo, N.D.) 1894-1957, 1914-04-30
Story Of the Soldiers Return From
War in COS; Pioneer Days in Wis,

Hamlin Garland in Golfers: "All
of this universe known to me in 1866
was bounded by the wooded hills of
a little Wisconsin ~coulee, and it's CEN
ter was the house in which my mother
was living alone with her children.
My father does not appear in the
vision. for he was away in the army.
Every child of my generation
breathed in a mingled air of romance
and sorrow. And all through those
first years of my life the words Lin
coin, Grant, Sheridan and Sherman
rang in my ears like solemn bells tim
ing a majestic march. All letters, pa
pers and messages spelled battle and
death. What the war meant to my
mother I shall fully know. Her
side of those long months of waiting
was never d~elineated, for she was ma
lively very reticent n markedly shy
of emotional expression; but piece by
piece in later years l drew from her
an elliptical tale Of her long vigil
some faint hint of the anguish of her
suspense after each great battle.
1T Is very strange, but I cannot de-
fine her face as I peer back into those
heroic times, though I can feel her
strong arms about me. She seemed
large n middle-aged to me, though
h was In fact only a handsome girl
of %. Only by reference to a rare da-
guerreotype at the time am 1 able to
correct this impression of her face and
person." e.,
The next scene ineffaceably etched
on my mind is the remembrance of
my fathers return from the war. I
was only 5 years old, and the impress
sions on my childish brain are COM
mingled with words which came long
after, SO that I cannot now be quite
sure which events are truth and which
imagined, but the picture as a whole
is still very vivid and very real.
at must have been Sunday, for my
mother and her three children, Owen,
Hester, and myself (all in our best
dresses), are visiting al the home Of
the Widow Green, our nearest neigh
all loved. The house swarms with her
stalwart, laughing sons and buxom
daughters. The table Is heaped with
the mangled remains Of a farmers
midday feast. The women are telling
fortunes by mean of tea grounds.
Mrs. Green shakes a cup in her hand
and, pouring u the tea, turns the cup
bottom side up in a saucer. whirls it
three times to the right, then three
times to the left, and at last lifts it
n studies the inside OF the cup,
while we all wait in breathless silence.
ga soldier is coming to you she
says to her mother. 'See!' And she
points into the cup. / crowd near and
perceive a stem sticking up from a
leaf, like a rifle oyer a mans shoulder.
He is climbing to the rim-he is al
most home she goes on. Then, turn
ing dramatically and waving her hand
toward the road, she exclaims: Why,
heavens and earth! There he is now!'
I'VE all turn and look toward the
road, and, there, indeed, Is a soldier
YEARLY plodding his way up the low
hill TO the north! He is too far away
for my mother, to call him, and be-
sides, she is not entirely sure of his
identity. Trembling with excitement,
she hurries with Owen into his wagon
and, telling Hester to bring me-, sets
off up the road as fast as she can
draw the cart, voiceless, almost breath
less, with excitement.
"Of that walk I recover little. My
next vision seems to be that Of a SOL
der leaning upon the rough rail fence,
studying with aOrrowful, intent gaze
our empty cabin. i cannot, even now,
precisely divine why he stood thus.
sadly contemplating his silent home
but SO 1t remains in my mind. His
knapsack is lying at his feet, mis- mus
ket is propped against a post on whose
top a cat is dreaming, unmindful OF
ths warrior and his instrument Of
W.T.
He does not hear us until we are
close upon him. and ever after he
turns, my mother remains In doubt, SO
thin, so hollow eyed lis he. Duncan, is
that you" she auiveringly asks.
His worn face lights u His arms