Year: 1866

when everything, animate and inanimate,
seemed to shrine and cover in the intense
cold. The very air was full of icy parti-
cles, which one was forced to draw in with
every breath; and when the neon rose,
round and clear and bright, and the wind
came up with it, penetrated every crack
and creyice, no mater how minute. The
passengers by the night express gathered
closer to the stove croNding and jostling
each other, as even well-bred people will
sometimes do, in their efforts to keep
warm.


All but one man who sat in a seat by
himself near the door. A tall man. wrap
ped in an overeoat of army blue, the VISOR
of his cap drawn low over his eyes-deep,
dark eyes with strange expression in
them-such eyes as a man might who had
been fated to stand for time on the bor-
ders of hell, and having seen, must bear
with him through life the memory of its
horrors.


He sat there quietly enough, taking lit
tie heed apparently Of what was going on
about him. All the afternoon he had sat
so, seldom moving, not speaking, only once
when he had given up his seat near the
fire to poor-looking woman with child
in her arms, and himself taken this one
farther back, and the passengers, noticing
the little act of politeness, and observing
his dress as well, decided that he was
soldier on his way home; veteran,
probably, and then dropped him out of
their thoughts.


And while the hours of early evening
wore away. the train Numbered on,
over miles and miles of level prairie past
farm houses nestled down among trees,
and barns, and corn-cribs past little
groups of dwellings with their home lights
shining cheerily out,


The man by the window watched them
as they fitted by, an eager, hungry look
coming into his eyes. Was he thinking
of a house at the end ofhis journey, where
the lamps were lighted by this time, and
three faces, sad enough now, would grow
suddenly bright at his coming? l do not
know.


The conductor came in presently, bring
ing little of the keen outward air with
him. He paused with his hands on the
back of the seat in which the soldier sat,
smiling down into the gloomy eyes lifted
TO his face as he said cheerfully:


"We shall be at NJ, in eleven minutes.
You're almost home, sir"


"Yes, thank God"


Home! Did conductor Hines know all
that word meant to the man sitting there
so quietly? He thought he did; though
he could understand his feelings, for he
himself had served three years as SOL
der, and well remembered the homesick-
ness, the weary waiting, the longing that
grew almost insupportable sometimes for
one glimpse of dear faces left behind.


Something of this he said in his earnest
way, still standing there, his hand on the
back Of the seat. The soldier grasped it
and the two looked steadily into each 9TH
er's eyes.


Two faces SO very unlike. One pleas
ant to look upon, though shadowed little
by cares and responsibilities of middle life.
The other showing warm and white under
the lamplight, gray hair about the tenn
plies, lines upon the forehead, deep lines
around the mouth; the face of an old man
and yet he was but thirty. His voice
had curious, unnatural tone in it as he
said, still keeping fast hold Of the friendly
hand, still looking into The kindly eyes,
g Its three years since | saw my family,
two since l heard from them. l have
been prisoner eighteen mouths at
Salisbury"


When story was outlined in these few
NOeaiiS VIM
never be known till the great day of re-
membrance, when the secrets of all prison
houses shall be revealed, and the black
record of Southern cruelty be shown uE
to the gaze of angels and men. Eighteen
months They had done the work o.
eighteen years on the once powerful frame
of this man whose whole heart seemed
cent cred row on the one thought of going
home.


Home, Who can tell how blessed mem.
ories of it has steadied the soldiers brain
and kept him from madness during those
days. and weeks, and months of lingering
torment, when hope and courage and man
lly fortitude alike gave way before the
horrors of the situation, and brave mer
who have looked death in the face many
A time without blanching, shrank nos
when it came in the form of slow starva
lion. But they have lived through it


e .ba,, tI;s Mark RYDER amons