Crawfordsville Daily Journal, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 30 May 1891 — Page 2

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A Decoration Day Episode with a .Pleasant Ending.

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HEX the tall. m!litary-l ok in stranger moved into the .'.modest dwell.••injr next to the widow Clark's, that excellent lady.in common with the rest of ••.•the neighbors, esp vi ce some little GU­

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have wished.

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comer was a handsome fellow—handsome enough for anv widow to enjoy gazing1 at. Though his mustache and imperial were snow white, his form, six good feet hi height. was erect and vigorous and he walked with a stride that if it did not show the elasticity of youth at least betokened a liberal supply of vitally. The widow (.lark pot to peeping- through her blinds at her neighbor as he walked past and then to wondering when she should make his acquaintance.

Hut Captain Mageddon (for that lt: seemed was his namej did not display any anxiety to make acquaintances. lie lived all alone in his'little house and seldom went out of it. A colored boy made his bed and did his cooking. He was scrupulously courteous and polite to the inhabitants of the little country town. Hi exchanged greetings with the postmaster every day in the cheeriest manner possible, lie was quite a. favorite at the resort" known as "the fctore.-' whither lie went every day to order his supplies, ami whore he was wont at times to resale the assortment of prominent citizens there assembled with a story or two.

Now. though the widow Marjorie Clark was hfty-two LT'11 1 summers old (though she might have prevaricated if questioned on that subject before a judge and jury!, and though there were streaks of silver here aim there in the locks that had once borne the hue of the raven's wing. she was a decidedly wholesome creature to look upon. She had round, plump, white arms, as anyone could see who watched her kneading the dough on baking day. She had. moreover, smooth fresh checks, with the tinge of ripe snow apples in them. She had not an unsound tooth in her head, ar.d her laugh was like the ripple of a thin stream of water over pebbles. She wore neat black gowns with lleecy lace rutlles at the wrists and throat. Many were the swains who had sighed at the feet of the comely widow for the last ten years: but the number who had pone away sorrowing matched precisely the number of those who had sighed. Mrs. Marjorie Clark she remained, and seemed to he perfectly happy so. lVrhaps it was a memory of her vanished girlhood that caused the widow to feel a trifle piqued at the captain's obvious nd lie re nee. Other tenants of that house had—but why call up harrowing recollections? And here was the captain, a next door neighbor for hix months, and he had never even called 011 her. True. In? bowed with a grave courtesy whenever they met. and often exchanged verbal salutations with her respecting the condition of the weather and to on. Hut it was all done with a cold politeness that harmonized very ill with the widow's neighborly feelings. If anyone had told her sho had fallen genuinely in love with that boldierly figure and earnest, inanly face, fdic would have been vastly indignant. She jyrew more and more exasperated at the captain's unsociability nevertheless. ltut there came a day when this kindly interest (to call it by 110 warmer name) was changed into something closely resembling dislike, and a very Stormy interview took the place of any pleasantcr one for which the lady may 1 .. 1 1 ]jCOp doWn in her heart

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Mrs. Clark cherished a passionate regard for a lot of fat hens that she kept fenced ill in her trim backyard.

One morning the captain's big retriever. a shaggy brute with a matted coat and no conscience, burst through the fence, put three of the fattest hens to death and so eternally scarified the others that they could do nothing but lie down und gasp for air. The widow caught the brute in the act. She forgot he was Captain Mageddon's nog—forgot everything except the wanton slaughter he had wreaked. She grabbed him pluekily by the collar, armed herself with a broom handle and in two minutes the dog. having been dragged onto the widow's front porch, was being belabored with a lustiness that caused him to fill the air with his howls.

In about ten seconds Capt. Mageddon descended his front steps and walked

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across the lot that separated the two houses. "Madam." he said rather brusquely, "why on earth are you beating mv dog?" "Because." retorted the widow, angry for being caught in so ridiculous a sitnation, "he killed mv hens! liecause— take that, you brute!" with a final I thump as the dog Hew between his master's legs and crouched there, trembling. "I am sorry, madam." responded the old soldier gravely, "that he kiiledyour liens, and I will pay you for them, gladly. lie deserved the beating, and I hope you'll excuse ray testiness, but you see that dog and my colored boy, Tom, are about the only friends I have in the world. and 1 don't like to see either of them hurt." l'ay for her hens! As if she wanted his money, indeed! The widow was thoroughly angry. "It's not the value of the hens I cure about," she snapped. "I don't like to see their heads eaten off by a great, roaring cannibal." The captain could not help smiling a little, which exasperated her the more. "And

I'll make boh. to tell you, Capt. Mageddon,"- .she added, "that it shows a poor spirit for a man to claim he has only a dog and a. nigtrer for friends, when ho might have—"

Here the widow Marjorie felt herself giving way. With a last wrathful look she darted within her door and slammed it.

After that, when she passed the captain she looked across the street and pretended not to see him. The captain continued to salute her gravely, as before. In this way things went 011 for a month or so. -^•'•.'••.:-

II.

There was a certain annual ceremony that the widow Clark never neglected. In the littleecmetery, eight miles away, lay her two boys—twins, of seventeen, they were when they left her on that bright morning, oh! so long ago. She never saw them alive again, and they rested there now, under the soft grass. The husband and father who had brought them home lay there also, now, and when Memorial day—that most sacred, perhaps, of all American days— came around, the widow laid her blossoms and rcaths on the three mounds, kvcry year, as the du3' came around, sho hitched up the chunky old marc to

the creaky bupLry and drove down the tree-lined road to the place where the ilear ones slept. This year she was a little late. The sun had gone down behind the hills when she drove down the smooth graveled road. The turf looked fresh and inviting. She strewed her llowers on the mounds— precious task—and sat there for an hour, thinking of those who had rested there so long and so silently. She Mt no grief now: a calm gladness, rather, that she should be able to care for their sleeping place so well.

A feeling of loneliness came over her as she rose to go. The dusk was gathering over the deserted city of the dead. Slowly the old horse toiled up the incline. Suddenly the reins were tightened. The woman who was driving gave a little gasp of astonishment. Sho peered through the shrubbery. I The stalwart man sitting upon a mosscovered stone with his white lieyd bowed upon his hands was Capt.

Mageddon. The old mare stopped. She stood stock still for live minutes. The man never moved. The dusk grew deeper and the moon peeped out.

Moved by an impulse she could never afterwards explain, Mrs. Clark slowly descended from the buggy. She moviid noiselessly over the grass. She approached the stooping figure. "Excuse me. Capt. Mageddon.'' she said, softly, '"but will nut you let me give you a ride home?''

He had risen at the sound of her voice. "This is indeed a pleasant surprise, Mrs. (.'lark." he said.

The traces of tears upon the stern, strong face sent a panir to the good woman's heart. "Captain." she asked, softly, "are there dear ones of yours here, too?"' "My boy lies there." answered the old warrior, pointing to a slim marble slab. "Ile was too younir to face that hell of war. Hut he rode by my side like a hero in that last mad charge, at I Gettysburg, his young face aglow and his fair hair streaming in the breeze. 1 can hear his splendid ery.of triumph, that he pave as the ball struck liirn. ringing through my ears now. 'Strike home, father.' he yelled, as he rolled from his saddle, and I saw him no more until afterwards, l'oor Ned! It killed his mother. I came to your town to be near him, Mrs. Clark. You must excuse an old fellow's weakness." And the veteran covered his face once more. '"Captain.'" said the lady, with almost motherly tenderness. "There are two of my darlings sleeping over there—

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boys of mine who died for their flag as yours did. Their father sleeps with them now. Yon and I must not grieve for our dead. They arc perhaps happier than we."

They drove slowly home together in the moonlight, a man and woman both mature in years, who had seen life in all its varied phases—love, joy, grief, passion, all the emotions that carry a Eoul from the cradle to the inevitable end of all. Who shall say that the peace that came with the sunset of their days was not deserved? 11

AHOLD

II. VVNNE.

1IKKK Is no north or south. And there Is no cast or west

Our tears are shed for herolo dead Ashvp tn tli 0 1 a (I earth'g breast.

Hoses m* llllc.s bring Hlossom and frond and thorn. For the clouds have passed unil night at last

Breaks into whitest mom.

Men from the wintry lands, Men of the lauds of sun. But the days aro changed Mnee wo stood estranged.

And the north and south aro one. For when the bayonet gleamed Follows the furrowing plow, And the hand of time, with touch sublime.

Has smoothed war's rugged brow.

Hero aro the clustered graves Of those whose race inarched down la tho cold moon's light to the famous height

Of beleugurod Boston town. And there arc the

grassy

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Unnamed by tongue or pen, Of those whose sires left household fires To tight us Marlon's men.

Over these eloquent The sounds of discord cease. And the spring grass waves by the

ed graves LlUe hope at the sido of peocc. And the robin builds her nest

round*

In the ride-shattered tree, And curlew* cry where a cloudless sty Looks 011 a tranquil sea.

And so tn brotherhood {{:•••. We scatter the buds of May Let the llowers fall over one and oil,

For we know no blue nor gray. And there is no cast and west, And there Is no north or south, v' .•: For the palm and piue together tWine

Over the cannon's mouth. KKNKST MCGAFFEY.

O S O E A

Strength and Stability Not Incompatible with I'roo I list it it? Ion*. I

We have but three holidays commcmorative of important events in the history of this country, and of these three —the rourtli of .luly, Washington's] birthday and Decoration day—the last I named is for some reasons the most memorable. We can now see, truthfully observes Once a Week, that the interests involved in the revolutionary conflict were incomparably less capocious than those which were imperiled

MEMORIAL DAY.

What Its ObiierTam'o Should Traoh tht I'rnplff of ThU (•eueratloii. "N THIS year of our Lord 1801, the celebration of Memorial 1 yy day is also tho

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by t^le war of the rebellion. The right' of the liritish parliament to tax the colonies, though reasserted in principle, bail been practically disavowed by the repeal 01" the stamp act, and no one now believes that the Americans would have been worse olV to-day than are the 1 Canadians luul they remained subject to the mother country. Hut independence having once been attained, and the experiment of republican government having been entered on, it was of vast importance to the colonists themselves and to the world at large that the experiment should prove successful. In tho eyes of Europe, Americans had become trustees of the republican idea, and until they were tested by a gigantic civil war, it was uncertain whether they were worthy of the trust. When we decorate the graves of those who fell on the union side of our tremendous contest, we honor the men who demonstrated that strength and stability are not incompatible with free institutions, and that even civil war, which transformed the ltoumn republic into an empire, has left liberty intact on this side of the Atlantic.

There was at. the outset some objection to the general observance of Decoration day, on the ground that it might tend to keep alive the sectional) antipathies which found vent in the fratricidal struggle. It was predicted that honor would be paid alike to those who fell in the cause of the union and to those who died on. behalf of the defunct confederacy. This has, in fact, proved to lie the case. The pious offices of gratitude and of affection aro performed at the graves not only of tho wearers of the blue, but also of tho wearers of the gray. Tho effect., however, of the simultaneous commemoration of the gallant deeds of the victors and the vanquished, has been to heal rather than to deepen the animosities of the survivors.

Oil l*ond« In the fiulf.

Between tho mouth of the Mississippi river and Galveston, Tex., 10 or 15 miles south of Sabine Pass, is a spot in the gulf of Mexico which is commonly called "The Oil Ponds" by tho captains of the small crafts which ply in that vicinity. There is no land within 15 miles, but even in the wildest weather the water at this spot is comparatively calm, owing to the thick covering of oil which apparently rises from the bed of the gulf, which is here about 15 to 18 feet beneath the surface. This strange refuge is well known to sailors who run on the small vessels trading between Calcasicn, Orange, Sabine, licaumont and Galveston. When through stress of weather they fail to make harbor elsewhere they run for "Tlio Oil Vonds," let go the anchor and ride tho gale in safety, this curious spot furnishing a good Illustration of the effects of "oil upon a troubled sea."

Whcro Will It End.

"Those must be the veterans," she said. "Yes and those immediately following aro the sons of veterans," ho replied. "Hut there seems to bo another company, of vefy small boys." "Yes those aro tho sons of tho sons of veterans."—Judge.

.. True 1'atrlotlnm. "Well, I suppose you aro going to celebrate Decoration day in tho proper spirit?" "Yes. I'm going to tho ball game."Puck. '.

silver Jubilee of a twenty-live year s, upon every recurre nee of this day, have, lain upon tho graves of the heroes of the nation the first fruits of the

beauty of the spring as tribute to their memory and a symbol of the immortality of noble deeds. We rever« the names of our great dead as the names o-f men who have surtereil and died for 11 principle have been honored among nil nations and in all times. Year by year the battle-seanvd veterans, weary with the march of life, have laid down their arms and joined the bivouac of the dead, l'rivate and ollieer, high and low, havtj been laid to rest under the winter's snow and the verdant turf of the summer, and now their comrades who gather to do homage to their memory are few in number. Their steps aro slow, and the frosts.of age silver their locks. A few years more and they, too, shall have joined their companions of the Belli: and. to us. the grateful nation created by their sacrifice, shall bo intrusted the perpetuation of this day.

Tho la-st quarter of a century haa been a record of progress unparalleled in any age. for sineo that time only have we been a nation in the truest sense of the word. Our southern brothers who fought so bravely and who

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bore their defeat in a inar.nor worthy of their high courage, too, should not be forgotten upon tHis anniversary. Mists of prejudice have been dispelled by the sun of peace, ar.d we now understand their patriotism

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as pure, and

their motives as lofty, as those, of the soldiers of the north. The land for which they died, their country, baptized with fire and Mood, has arisen from the chaos of error, and is leading" the advance guard in the march of progress, the wonder and admiration of the world. The spirits of those who died to perpetuate the curse of slavery, looking down from the calm heights of eternity, rejoice no doubt, upon this day. in tho defeat of their cause. They were none the less heroes that they died in vain, and as such, we will honor them.

To us. the people of the generation of Peace. "Memorial day" liears a lesson of patriotism as well as gratitude. Upon this day should be recounted the bi.graphy of our heroes, for in them is our history. Xorth and south, east and west, should with one accoid glory in the manhood of her citizens, whom it needs only the occasion to change into the s.ildiel" in defense of national honor and the principle of government by the people and for the people. We honor the soldier as the defender of the flag that is over u.s, and the embodiment of the civilization within 11s. The true citizen only can be the true soldier, and love of country should be instilled into the minds if the younir as second only to love to their Creator. The same theme should prevade the teachings of the public school, the great conservator of our liberty, and any attempt to pervert them, and make them the implements of any sect or party, should bo sternly resisted as foreign to our national principles. Patriotism should be the creed and the watch ,vord of our people. Politics is to patriotism what theology is to religion, and with our theology sound, our religion of patriots i.sm pure, Memorial day will be observed by our children and children's children as the anniversary of a national resurrection. Lou V. Chai-in.

E N O A N S O

With Immortality.

OKROW and love together stand. Heart linked to heart, hand clasped In hand,

Deside tho soldier's bier. Spealt gently, with soft footsteps tread, A nation's dust, a nation's dead, Is resting calmly here.

The noise of battlefield no more is sleep—all strlfo is o'er. lie slumber

'J WARN"v''Ji tranquilly Until the last incut trump shall found. And they arise, forever crowned

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Drlnj? flowers, upon their graves to wreathe fewcet messengers of hope, they breathe Of life beyond the skies, Where north and south, all conflict past, Shall meet ajjaln—in peace at lust

And love—In paradise, —Linn .1. Walk. In Christian at Work.

Hard on tho Sailors.

"Is Decoration day noticed on sliii board?" asked a landsman of a sailor. "Oh, yes, sir often." "Often?" 5i|%l "Yes the captain makes a decltfSraj. tion whenever he feels like it."—Judge.

THE COLONEL'S BOB

A P«ullu Memorial Day ftouth Forki. South Forks mWndod to «. this Memorial day. Whon

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wives and children went carl'v V1"1 not knowing at what hour of o„

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road, there to await the Z? Tr''•' the celebration. •'•"linp, .lust now, however, tin. ,,,..1.. tion of South Forks wimiratlier Ji*'1"1"1' a a ing to Kill .lay's harsh-voi,,.. r':i" logue.

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"I tell yuh, boys, he's ,, „v coward, an the sooner South Krl red uv 'i,„ the better! Whv, wVi kem right up te 'i.n th'ouienl stuck my face right up tehkn't 'Colonel, ses1,'we don't see luuVh o(V te South lorks,' an' he jes look,,! an walked off-didn't dast sav "Now 1 heerd—'" Mere Hill's'' grew mysterious and he i.-hm,c,l 0,-V around—"I heerd thet lie's lmi 1." 111 hisi backyard-his son's grave, yuh, thet tit th' war on th' other an' th' cuss won't put a n.iwor

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er let anyone say a word about it

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"Now I say, boys, let's go up tliarmorrer an' dekcrate thet thar irrlvp ,™ ef thar's a word said agin' it-• nlllcant gesture finished the seatom-,"''

The great white house was verv -i'.-, ami deserted the next day as a l.W men rode up to the gate, fastened t't«''t horses and entered the grounds.

Just how the colonel had secured 'V ill-will of South Forks would bard-.i say, unless by that silent rrservo tV in tho mind of tho uncultured stamal tho "aristocrat," a species to ba as speedily exterminated as possible b... it was an ugly-looking bo.lv of 'men that stood around that lonely'gnire he. hind tho house and laid theirrouirli dec. orations upon it, giving little tlinucht to the sacred ceremony they were n,.rl forming. "Told yuh he was a coward'" said Hill .lay, as they were prepurini to i!,. part, not having seen even a face at the window. hat. d' j'uh say to breakin' a window. see "f we can't rouse 'em

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little?" Just at this moment one of the long French windows opened quietly and a pale, slender gentleman stepped out upon the piazza. "Pepper him. boys, ef 1 giv(

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word," said Mill Jay under his breath. The. colonel must have heard tV ominous click-click of several revolver* at these words, but his face did not change as he stepped closer to tiiem. "Good morning, gentlemen," he remarked quietly. "Vou have favored me with an early call this morning. Ah, I see!" with a glance toward the flowerdecked grave. "1 feel that it is due to you, gentle-* men, to tell you that I received \vr,rd that you intended to visit me to-day to decorate my son's grave, which you believed to be neglected." "Thet's what we're here for," Raid Bill Jay defiantly, though his voice was

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TOE C0LO.VKI. KECE1V1XG HIS CAI.I.KKS.

not as aggressive us ho had meant to make it. "I am sorry that there should be ill feeling between us," continued the colonel. "I will say nothing about the cowardice—the cowardice," he repeated a» there was a threatening movement in the crowd, "of men who will cume upon another man's property with the direct intention of assaulting his personal feelings, if not of doing him bodily injury," with a significant glance at tho now half-concealed weapons. "I will say nothing of this, but I feel it my duty to tell you that you have been misinformed. "That is not tho grave of my son, fo' I have no son," raising his voiec as there arose an angry murmur of disbelief among the men. "1 never had son. IJnt that is the grave of my faithful old war-horse. Hob, who carried me through battle after battle, bearing fully his share of danger, privation onl hardship as a son of mine could liavc I done." The quiet voico lost its steadiness for a moment. "I want to thanlc you for the well* deserved honor you have unwittingly paid to my dear old Bob. And now, gentlemen," I10 continued, after moment's pause, "having settled this little matter, let me invite 3rou to walk in anil partako of the refreshment that .Inson has spared no pains in preparing. A lm"1 morning's work Is apt to make one both hungry and thirsty. Walk right

In, gentlemen I" Coolness and bravery will coinnwnu thc admiration of the lowest, and pad* ually the ugly faces of tho crowd had assumed an expression more nearly akin to shame than many of thein bad known in long days past.

As the colonel ended with a

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there was a moment's silence then liu' Jay turned to the men behind hiin. "Boys," lie said, "I think thar's been a trilliu' mistake hero, an' we'ro ready to own up to it liko men. Now, afore we freeze onto th' colonel's invite, le givo three cheers fer tli' colonel—an three cheers an' a tiger for the colonel 3 Bobl" IvATK A. UltADLEV.

The Veteran*.

Tbey incct 11 nil oall each other "boys'* On Decoration day Yet ovory faco is marked with years

And all the heads aro gray.

-Juilgo.