Year: 1865

ana sitting by Jha open window ana
| looking out uu0u the orchard. where the
! trees stand laden with apple blossoms.
whose delicate perfumes float i'm the iwj-
light air. just as il did touT years ago to.
night.


There Is nothing changed about tins


old place as ] look upon its picture now.
| There stands the stone curbed well. over


which the long sweep hangs with is
dangling bucket, moss-ceveTed and drip
ping slonotonousiy-iust SIS ever. There
Is Carlos kennel. and Carlo himself l.
lying there. with his nose uf'on his out
streatcheJ paws. aud MS ewes closed Ia
lilly; precisely thus he lay as looked on;
OF this window four years ago this hour.
I can hear Kate and Eess and Dick anu
| Duke stamping with their hools IN their


stable in the old red barn: aud over the
top Of the same tree that bears the gold


en- sweets, peeps the wooden weathercock
on the roof of the hay shed. The doves
have been flying IN and out of their cpis
oyOr the wide door for the past GOuT; ana


the swallows not yet gone 20 sleep, are
Squeaking and chatteTing on the caves
overhead. There bangles the swing an
der the oak Yonder comes Philip whist
| ling up the road. lie has changed no


more in these four years than II he were
an image, instead of being rs he Is, Il


middle aged serving man. Everything


my eye rests on Is just tine same. wish
IL were not. How can the world 90 or
so unchanged?


1t seems .as if had been dreaming
here by the window ia the sun of the
warm May afternoon. and had just awak-
ened IN falling. Was it my welding


night this four years ago:


Yes. There on the bed within the
room my boy Is sleeping. Here on my
finger Is my wedding ring, and l kiss it,
and it seems cold to my lips as his lore
head was. Here are my widows mourn
ing garments. | am twenty-five. | was
eighteen when Frank drew me up to his
heart, in this very room. lie called me


his darling brown-eyed bride On, how
| loved him. You ladies who live in


cities and whose lives are crowded with
eyents-who have loved and unloved one
man after anOther-WhOse hearts We're
older at eighteen than mine is this day,


even after all its deep JOY and sorrow
you cannot know how / loved my hus-
band.


Do you believe me exaggerating when
l say that l would have yielded up my
life unmurmuring for my husbands sake {?
If you do, it only shows that you have no
conception OF a love that | bore for Frank.
1t was wrong to love man so perhaps;


but, Oh, was so happy. He was my all
remember. On him | layished the long
boarded affection OF q nature whose
depths no mortal being looked into before
him. Ny heart would leap with glsdness
at the sound OF his voice at a distance
| knew his footsteps so well that l would
go far beyond the gate 10 meet him when


he was coming up the road. His kiss
was heaven to my lips, and the fond
glance of his blue eye would thrill my


being TO the core.


You may wonder that 1 consented to
part with him when / loved him 50. 1t
was because Iloyed him as [ did, that [
could not oppose him when ne told me,
his face ali ag!ow with enthusiasm, that
he wanted TO raise a company for the war
then he talked so eloquently about it,
his eyes shOne with such luster and his
voice had such cheer in it, as he spoke
of going with his cOmrads 10 fight IN de-
tense of the dear old flag, how could
f.l4+iH niy selfish protest


But | chung 10 his meek with silent fear
in the darkness OF the night when he lay
fast asleep; pictured his loved form ly
ing wounded and bloody on the battle
field, and / hid my face or my pillow
and pressed his dear cheek with my nand
softly. so as net 10 wake him. while
wept AS If my heart would break. But
in the daytime ] never let him know
tried my best to cheer him for l knew il
was the old patriotic fire that burned in
his manly breast, and no tears Of mine
should quench IL. [ was always proud Of
Frank; he was the prince OF men 10 me;
but now ! was proudsr of him than ever
before.


was but the bride OF q summer when
he marched away The harvest was ripe
and the leaves were browning. He kiss
ed me again aud again as we stood under
| the porch by the door, and I smiled q
cheerful smile of adieu 10 him, and strug-
| gled 20 hide from hin the auiyering OF
my lips. Then ne walked briSkly away


down the garden path, passed out the
gate, and waved his gilded hat 10 me
| from the road; and when he was so far


away that he could not see me weep. /
/ leaned against pillar, and gazed long
after him through the binding rain OF


unavaiiiug tears.


I used toget such cheering letters from
my hero, He found many amusing things
( TO write about in his new life, and seem-
ed to relish. so well the novelty and hardi
hood of the camp! He would describe
to me the minUtest particulars OF his


surroundings, tell me what he ate, and
| how, where he slept, and how, and draw
| for me such photographs of the scenes IN


which he moved, that soon lost my fool


ish habit Of picturing him lying bleeding
| on the cold battle fields, alone with the


watching stars and the silent night. In.


stead of this, soon began 70 share his


dissatisfaction at having nothing to dc
/ through the long winter, and l looked


forward to the spring with his longing
vision, and learned to glory in my hus
bands strength as he himself did, and tC


feel certain that all perils must yield be


fore the power of his arm. Our boy wa:


born that winter too, and in him | found


an object on which to pour out the love


of my heart and companion 10 make


the time pass away.


The spring came, and in the battle o


Fair Oaks my husband WAS taken prison


er. They shut him up in that feariu
prison at Richmond and murdered hin


by inches. Long, long months ROLLED
away. Ny boy grew till he could rui


about the house and play with Carlo il


the yard; and every day he seemed t


grow more and more like his father, witt
his fresh round cheeks red with bloom


and his merry blue eye and ringin.


laugh.


: Last October they brought my HUSBAND
home. Oh, what a pitiful semblance o
r the man who waved his gilded cap to m


from the road as l stood in the pore


that September morning so long ago
They left him alone in the parlor to wal
: = for me for l had tainted at the sight {
him from the window-my darling Fran


this skeleton, with shrunken limbs ar
!. ghastly fallen cheek and dull eyes COul
: it be he? Only when l entered the pa
: lor where he sat, and behind the cluste


ing black hair that shaded his white for'
head, could l see aught of the man l ha
married on that May night when th
= odor of the apple blossoms was in the al
3 He looked on me so pitifully, and raise
u his wan hands as if to embrace me.