Putnam patriot. [volume] (Putnam, Conn.) 1872-1962, 1917-09-07
JON MEMORIAL DAY
BY MOLLY MINISTER.

Tie old cemetery on the edge Of the
village, mother. Do You mindT'
The mothers eyes filled quickly with
tears. She knew why the girl was go-
ing; she knew, too. that her daughters
heart was as full as her own ON this.
the first Memorial day. since their son
and brother had been lost on the bat
tlefield of Europe.
Violet smiled through the tears that
had forced their way into her eyes. Il
won't be long, dear. and I'm taking a
basket of our lovely lilacs and snow
balls" She kissed her mother and
walked down the gravel path TO the
gate and ont along the country road
to the cemetery that had been a land
mark long before Violet and her moth
er had come to Marionville, Ia, from
their home in England.
John Nash. the son and brother. had
answered the call Of his country and
had gone to battle. He had never re-
turned. and only the news of his brave
death had come to the family.
Today, when flags We're at half-mast
for the heroes of other wars. Violet
felt that she must go somewhere, do
something, in memory of her dear
brother. The only thing that seemed
to be possible would be TO take flow
ers to the grave of some other soldier
and place them there in memory of her
brother.
On an old stone, gray and weather
stained she read the name of John
James Evans" Here was a man
named. as had been her brother. The
inscription told her that the man died
a hero in the Civil war.
Violet knelt down and began to ar
range clusters of white and purple Ii
laos near the headstone. Tears finally
streamed down her cheeks and she
sat down upon the grass and tried to
control her emotion.
When she stood up man stood be-
side her. He held a pot of flowers,
old-fashioned blooms. He was looking
ut the flowers on the grave.
did you do that?" he asked Violet.
Violet nodded.
"John James Evans was my grand
father" he said. II come every year.
1t is good of you" he said. His look
questioned her further.
81 saw no flowers on the grave" VI
olet said softly, and l wanted to deco
rate the resting place of some brave
hero today" she said. "My-my broth
er was lost few months ago in
France, fighting with English troops,
for our country. We are English"
John James Evans-for he was the
third of that name in his family
looked down at her and noted the ex-
quisite beauty of her face, tear-stained
though it was. at was good of you
to pick out my grandfathers grave"
he said, hardly knowing what to say.
Violet shook her head. Its nothing
to you, of course" she said. But
1t has done me good, and 1t has spared
mother the pain of seeing me give way
TO weeping. l just had to, for mother
and / have tried so hard to bear up
for each other-oh, so hard she said.
After that there was long silence,
during which neither young person
seemed to know what to do or say.
"Would you let me take you homer"
John Evans finally asked.
Il don't go far" she protested.
II have my little runabout just out
side, and I'm sure your mother
wouldn't mind" he explained.
Violet looked in his eyes for mo-
ment. 'No-I cont believe she would.
We don't know very many Americans,
for we have kept much to ourselves.
Do you live in Maronville?" she asked,
as she rose.
"No-in Cedartown, five miles be-
yond. l have a drug store there and 1t
seems to be so successful that l can't
get away"
When Violet reached her own gate
she insisted that John come in and ex-
plain TO her mother how it had come
about.
Mrs. Nash, naturally reserved, looked
surprised, but the straightforward look
in the young mans eyes and the gen
eral manner of him seemed to reassure
her. as it had treasured Violet.
"We1l be glad TO have You join us
In a glass of cold buttermilk, if you
care to wait" Mrs. Nash said, after
few moments.
do stay" urged Violet.
And John Evans did stay. He
thought he had never seen anyone in
The world so beautiful as this little
English girl.
Violet walked to the gate with him
when he was able TO take his depart
ure. Mother and l will be glad to
see you at any time" she said, shyly.
THANK you, / shall come, Miss
Nash" he said, formally.
my good old granddad was always
nv guardian angel" John james Ev-
ans said to himself on the way home.
Copyright, 1917, by the Mcclure News
paper Syndicate.)