Abbeville progress. (Abbeville, Vermilion Parish, La.) 1913-1944, 1920-07-10

He opened his eyes and looked at me
with the strange look OF n man WHOSE
thread of consciousness Is half unraNeleu'
"Oh, it's you. Edith" he said. when nc
had taken me in. Funny, l th"ught .,
was Irene must have been dreaminE'
| questioned him again about ms wou"o
and began feeling his hair. IL NJ
there ne said. Guess | got II an Owe,
my hands They got me this time ron
waste time on me. Some other l'"""
may have chance"
| found. with little examination. tha'
| the case was as bad as he supposed f"' ,
tunately. the wound had induced toc"'
paralysis and he was not suffering 10 any
great degree. I placed my hand !" MS
and felt his grip tighten on IT.
I'm going to stay TIL it's over. !'aFe
Wen see IT out together"
That's decent" he answered and then
was stll for quite a time.
''I've often wondered what was on the
other side" he said, at length ! shaI'
! know presently"
"You are not afrald?" l whispered.
NO Only sort of-CuriOus. Andrew
ereut guess it's Teverent. you
know ! haven't been much ON religion
Never seemed to get the formula. what
is the formula? | mean the key-the
/ thing that gives II all I'm one word
In one word sacrifice. He that loseth
| his lfe shall find it, quoted.
He did not answer. hut I could see his
lips smiling again, His breath was more
labored few drops Of rain fell. ana
some 81 them spattercd on his face.
Presently ne Chucklcd It was an Gerry
sensation. out on that broad plain Of
death, alone by the side Of this man who
was already far into the shadow to near
him chuCkle.
THAT splash OF water-you remember
Il made me think of the time we pulled
the old car into the stream. and the har-
ness broke or something. and I had to
carry you, You remember that Reenie ~
I could only say. Yes" and press his
hand. His mind was back on the old. old
trails
He became suddenly sober And when
Brownie was killed" he went on. 81 said
it was the innocent thing that got caught
Perhaps | was right But perhaps It's best
to get caught. Not for the getting caught
but for the-the compensations. It's thu"
innocent men that are getting killed. And
perhaps it's best. Perhaps there are com
pcnsations worth while"
His voice was weaker. and had to lean
close to catch his words
I'm goinG-out." he said. Kiss me.
Reenie."
And then | kissed him-for you.
Suddenly he sat up. The mountains
he exclaimed. and his voice was athrill
with the pride OF his old hills. See the
moonlight-on the mountalns!"
Then his strength. which seemed to
have gathered itself for this one last
vision of the place of his boyhood. gave
way. and he fell back. and he did not
speak any more.
And what can | add? Dear. II Is not
defeat. IT is promise. It is hope.
Some day we shall know. But until
then we shall go on. 1t Is woman's bit
to carry on. But not in dependency. not
In bitterness. not In anger or despair He
didn't go out that way. He was reverent
and little curious. and he went out
with smile. And we shall go on. and
carry his smile and his confidence through
the valley OF our sacrifice. What am /
doing. speaking OF our sacrifice?
I salute you. sister In the Order OF Suf
fering-and OF hope.
EDITH DUNCAN
/ handed the letter back to her. and
for a time had no words won't you
let me tell the storyY / said, at
length. 1.-THE world Is full of sorrow
and IL needs voices to give that sorrow
words, and perhaps turn It into hope
as this letter does"
She hesitated. and realized then how
much l had asked "It is the story
Of my Iife-my SOUL" she said. yet,
IL II would help"
without names" I FASTENED to ex-
plain. without real names Of places
or people"
And SO. In that little whitewashed
home, where the brown hills rise
around and the placid mountains look
down from the distance. and a tongue
Of spruce trees beyond the stream
stands sentinel against the open prairie.
she is carrying on, not In dependency
and bitterness. but in service and In
hope. And so her sisters, all this world
over. must carry on. until their sweet
ness and their sacrifice shall fill up and
flood over all the valleys of hate. 8.
g. And II you should chance that
way, and II you should win the con-
fidence Of young Three-year-old, he
may stand for you and say, with his
voice filled with the honor and the
glory and the pride Of 1t:
my father was a soldier. He was
killed at Courcelette."
THE END.