St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 20, Number 38, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 13 April 1895 — Page 2

AN EASTER OFFERING. HE little church was 1 crowded * At the joyful Easter fl .J tide — ■L dh i 3 tv The golden rays of / fUgr'' morning sun Nj JStreamed thro’ the A i' s®' 5 ®' v/ I ViL window wide; /Wr ^^^WrThe bright cross J W caught the glory threw it back ‘ n g ain . VTk F/\TTK-n As 11 sweetly chantI XFAW I 6 ed anthem JfeThro’ the echoing aiSSaa* arches came. Hi f -^- ^^CTbo church was *clothed in beauty; There were flowers . everywhere, Dn organ, pillar and archwayOn altar, chancel, and stair. Jn the moment of holy silence, (When the opening hymn was o’er, u little rustling sound ■Was heard from the open door. There stood a baby girl— She was not over sou (And her apron was full of flowers, So full it could hold no more, She looked so sweet as she stood there, phe sunlight in each fair curl, ’And a blue sash trailing behind her, I>ear, brown-eyed little girll I JJWe bring some flowers for Jesus,” The baby quietly said; Then dropped them on the floor (And looked around in dread. There were so many people She had never seen before, ^And she guessed—she—wanted—Mam.ua. So she ran from the open door. ^The sunlight kissed the flowers — (•‘God’s flowers” th/ child had brought, And they lay there and preached a sermon, The text a genuine thought, yrom the baby-through all the people, The spirit of giving spread, .And the gifts that day were large—®y the child's offering led. The Home. 7 SUNLIGHT was in the sky, upon the streets, over all things. The sound of church bells rose above the ^oise of voices and of footfalls on the '■ldewalk. What light, charming costumes the women wore, and the men low carefully dressed and how expressive »f admiration and a desire to be especially amiable. > One tall man, who looked prematurely ^rave for thirty years, walked alone. Few passers-by noticed his face. Os those few some wondered that such melancholy was Abroad upon this morning of mornings, this most radiant of Easter days. 3^' fewu ..Jr! rmno down tho Stens Os hat adorned with small, artificial spring flowers. Eighteen years of life, a fresh, handsome face, great gray eyes, a prayer book and a parasol in one of her small gloved hands, what a fitting picture for the day! And, to complete it, in the' ether hand a white lily, perhaps thoughtlessly plucked from its stem. The solitary man was walking several feet behind her. He happened to look up from Where his cane at each step met the pavement. He saw the lily over the girl's shoulder. The man sighed. “That flower and that girl bring them back to me still more Vividly,” he mused; “that other Easter day, that other Easter lily—and her!” The girl in front turned to cross the street. The man recognized her and raised his hat in response to her bow. She hesitated, dropped her eyes, stopped and waited for an approaching cab to pass. (When the man came up she faced him with a smile. He was vaguely conscious ©f a heightened color in her cheeks and ©f a delicate fragrance environing her. i “Good morning. Monsieur Melancholy!” •he said, in greeting. “You see, I haven't forgotten my Shakespeare.” • “Like the sweet girl graduate that you are,” he replied, carelessly, as he started forward by her side. “But why do you bring your Shakespearean knowledge to bear on me in that way? Am I melancholy?” i “Doleful! And on such a morning! It’s wicked to be sad in sunshine like this.” “And in such company it’s impossible. That is to say, it would be if you didn’t 1 remind me, you and that flower in your hand —but pardon me, what am I saying?” The girl glanced up at her companion in some surprise. Then she became thoughtful. Mechanically she looked at the lily in her hand. Presently she spoke in a low tone. “As you were .saying, what are you Baying? Or, rather, what were you going /I W ■ ; J®] gHB HELD OUT THE FLOWER IN HER HAND to say? I remind you, I and my flower •—of what?” He spoke without seeing her shy, side look, as they passed on among the crowds •f church-goers. “Os another woman and another flower like that, on another day like this. You bring back a story that began on such a 4*7 when such a woman lightly gave

such a flower to —to the hero of the story.” “Yourself, of course.” This was spoken with a sharpness that might have aroused his curiosity had he not been in a reflective mood. “Yes,” he answered. “And the story was a—love story?” “Naturally.” “How interesting! And it ended in—in what?” “In a grave in Greenwood, eight months afterward,” he replied, softly. “Oh!” she said, gently. They walked on in silence for a time. Then he added: “She died of pneumonia a month before the time fixed for our marriage. That was six years ago. It seems yesterday.” “But the story is finished.” “Oh, yes,” he said, with a slightly bitter smile. “That story is. And now you know why I was not all smiles when you met me, notwithstanding the morning.” They had come to the church. lie stopped on the outskirts of the converging crowd at the front of the wide stone steps before the great entrance. “Are you not going in?” sho asked, with some astonishment, as she also stopped. He smiled. “No, I didn't intend to. I'm not a church-goer. I’m out of practice." “Then experience a novelty. I can't invite you into our pew, for Aunt Agnes and my cousins have already left only room enough for me. But you might enjoy standing in the gallery. Don’t you like Easter music?” “Yes. Perhaps I may drop in by and by." He stood still, waiting for her to leave him and enter the church. But she did not move. He must have been strangely unobservant not to have noted the look of tenderness that suddenly burst all repressive bonds, instinctive and conscious, and glowed eloquently in her eyes, not to have penetrated to the deliberate design hidden under the surface of her next speech. “And, that story being finished, has it had many—any—sequels, with the same hero?" “None,” he answered. “None in «!x years.” “It began with a lily?” “A lily that still stands in a Grecian vase beside my mirror.” “Somewhat faded ?” "Yes, poor flower.” “But, the old story being finished," sho said, speaking with increasing haste and very low, “and the hero still young, what's to prevent beginning another story—with another lily?” She held out the flower in her hand. The man, surprised at her manner and her action, and not immediately awake to their significance, did not move or speak. The girl, appalled by his hesitation, hastily drew back the proffered lily. Her face became crimson, ami she turned and hurried confusedly from him, passing with the throng up the steps and into the church. In the vast arched interior her senses met subdued light after the sunshine, the hum of discreet conversation, the soft footfalls of worshipers going to their seats, the rustle of women's gowns, the odor of flowers, the colored rays that fell obliquely from the stained glass window. The man remained standing outside bewildered. After a few seconds the girl's meaning dawned upon him. Thereupon 1 he began to twirl his mustache rapidly. wlfcl HE REMAIN! D INSI X3IRLE TO THE NOT! 8 OF THE. ORGAN. in accordance with ins custom when in deep thought. Some one tom bed him on the shoulder. “Hello, old man! Going in?” “Yes, yes, certainly!” he said quickly, and ran up the steps without turning to look at the speaker. He pushed his way up the stairs and forward to a place on the front row of scats in the gallery, a feat difficult because of the Easter crowd, but to him easy by reason of his abstraction, which made him indifferent to the - elbows, shoulders, attire and toes of others. Already the deep notes of the organ were quivering on the air. A summary scan of the congregation failed to discriminate the girl of the lily from the hundreds of women whose bright head gear gave the congregation the aspect of an indoor flower garden. His eyes rested | upon the chancel, held by the general effect of the grouped white Resurrection | lilies, callas, acacias, palms and yellow | azaleas. A cross of lilies surmounted I । the floral pyramid. To him this morning, all the world was Easter lilies. | The clear voices of the choristers rose i from beneath him, in harmony with the organ, as the white robed boys moved up the aisle. But the splendid anthem, “He is Risen,” seemed to him as coming from afar. He was meditating. She was in love with him—this lily-like girl! Her offer of the flower might have passed for a jest, but her almost angry withdrawal of it had told the truth, as in a flash. Why had he not already seen? Clinging to the old love iiad kept him blind. He reviewed their acquaintance, from the first meeting at the house of her aunt four months before. Her shy look, her alternate moods of cordiality and coolness, her studied avoidance of him, her sudden appearance before him during his calls at the house, all, with much else, should have warned him. He remembered that night at the theater when chance had placed him beside her. The । play was “As You Like It.” He had not i before asked himself why that night had remained so sweet in his memory. She, ■ too, had not forgotten it. Her greeting this morning, the title of Monsieur Melancholy,” applied by Orlando to Jacques, was a souvenir of that evening.

“Christ our passover is sacrificed so» us; therefore let us keep the feast.” The anthem* with him, fell upon heedless ears. Yes, this girl, at the sight of whom he had taken some pleasure, whom he had always viewed as a child just from school, was sufficiently a woman to have fallen in love with him. There was but one thing to do. He must go away, that she might forget himj for his love was with the dead. More glad Easter music rose to his ears. The church seemed to thrill with the To Deum festival. He remained insensible to the notes of the organ and the great composite voice of the choir. Since ho must betake himself from the possibility of meeting her again, where should ho go? Meditating upon this, ho sat indifferent alike to the collect, the epistle, the gospel, the sermon. But all the while, IIKB KKr IIOW PLEASANT ... TO SIT BEBIDt HER, half involuntarily, he was searching the congregation below with his eyes for a glimpse of a certain maid bearing a lily. It would be a sacrifice for him to leave town now. It occurred to him that life had been pleasant to him of late amid his present surroundings in the city. For the first time in five years, existence had recently begun to have some piquancy for him. He had not sought the caus*. Assuredly, he was showing rare considera- ! tion for this girl in deciding to leave tho city in order that she might be spared tho pain of a hopeless love. There were I few others, if any, for whom he would I so readily disturb the routine of his life. He would like, however, to see iter face ' once more before putting it forever Into his past. It was such a charming face. , Now that ho came to think of it, was there ever a more charming fare—but . one? Why could he not single her out ; In the gently swaying surface of flower trimmed bonnets stretched out before his gaze? Why had he not ascertained the location of her aunt’s pew? IL found her nt last, far to the front mid to the left. He knew her by the lily in her hand. She sat perfectly still, in a ray of light from a high window. She seemed wrapt in contemplation. How pleasant it would be to sit beside , । her! Ami when at last the “Gloria in Exi celsis" was swelling up to the vaulted roof ho had begun to ask himself whether , it were necessary to leave town, niter all. । He found himself unwontcdly eager to reach the front of the crowd oaX made ; its way to the doors after the se/ v ' 1 *-Me i pushed his way down the stairs united into hundreds of groups ^L^fe" sidewalk! He watched the lines/Tfaces ns they appeared at the head of the steps, coming from the comparative shade within. At last! She still held her lily. She cast a quick glance around ns she stood on the topmost step. Then she descend ed. followed by her aunt and two cousins. His heart bent rapidly as he elboveti his ( way through the throng that he might appear at her side as if brought there by chance. i He raised his hat to her aunt and wus- - iiis. She In is, If dropped her eyes and , bowed rather stitlly when she saw him. Ho adroitly managed to keep by her . side as the group moved up the sidi-walk. . The aunt and the cousins fell behind. let he could find little to say upon the ’ homeward walk. She. was inclined to bo flippant and inattentive in her share of ■ thi' conversation. \\ hen they reached her house, she al- । lowed her aunt and cousins to precede her up the steps. Then she tarried for a seci ond. “< Jood by, ’ she said, standing upon tho ■ second step. “Good by," he answered, “but first I should like ” “Well?” “May 1 have the lily and begin the new j story?” She looked into his eyes a moment; then hastily thrust the lily into his outstretched hand and tripped up the steps. Within . the doorway, turned and kissed her hand to him. In the evening, when church bells again wore ringing and the hum of people walking came up from the street bel^s< he stood before the mirror in Lis chamber ' and contemplated a long dead lily, a । mere mummy of a lily in the Grecian vase beside it. Presently he took the shrtt'eled । flower from the vase and vi;i< ■ ? , furthest corner of a dressing ruse djU 1 eT ‘ I And thus an old love was char^'V 0 ^ 0 a . . memory and ho uttered a 1 But a moment later he hummed p tune . as he put in the vase, in place of Le old dead flower, an Easter lily that was still white and fresh. —Robert N. Stephens. ; The Only Case of the KindDr. Thau, of Elizabeth, and Dr. Hatfield, of Leachtown, Pa., performed a successful, though very unusual and difficult, surgical operation / lately Miss Myra Simmons, of Standing Stone, a handsome young woman, wi.h long, luxuriant hair, had been in theAabit of twisting her tresses so tighiy in a knot at the back of her head that ths pressure had loosened the scalp from the skull. The scalp was takei off and coagulated matter that had totbernd under it removed, the scalp stitched on again, hair and all, and the ylunf woman will recover. It is said to l^e the only case of the kind known in medical science. 7 Has to Talk Through It Flapjack—Glibley is quite a. (talker, isn’t he? Treacle—Yes, but his hat get down over his mouth.—Sprm»fleld (Mass.) Union. .

REUNION AT SHILOH. GREAT GATHERING OF VETERANS ON THE HISTORIC FIELD. Fatuous Battle Ground Now Turned Into a Fine Park-Some Account of a Memorable and Bloody ConflictGen. Johnston's Death. Story of the Fight. The recent reunion of the survivors of the battle of Shiloh, or Pittsburg Landing, on that historic field, was the largest gathering of veterans held in the South since the war. The reunion was under the auspices of the Shiloh Battlefield Association, which was organized throe years ago to purchase and turn into a park the historic ground where the great conflict took place. Col. E. T. Lee, of Monticello, 111., is founder of the association and has worked most successfully in its behalf. The recent gathering was for the purpose of marking the positions of the various commands during the fight. The account of the battle of Shiloh is one of the most exciting pages of the civil war. It was not intended to fight a battle there, but Col. Albert Sidney Johnston determined to surprise the Federal troops, encamped on the spot, and so precipitated the Struggle. Gen. Grant was eating bn-nkfast at Savannah, seven miles away, in the Cherry mansion, when he heard the first ennuon that opened tho bnttle. Mrs. W. 11. Cherry was in the net o£ banding him a cup of coffee at the time. He immediately arose, saying: “We must go to the

O - (Hl WE OF THE IHU MMER BOY OF SHILOH.

i front, the ball has opened.” Gen. John- I ' ston had made his order of battle, and ! , had formed his army in three long parallel : j lines. i Tho Confederate army moved forward I i In solid column under the personal com- ( j ni.iiid of Gen. Albert Sidney Johnston, j , striking Gen. Sherman’s division at the I ■ i Shiloh t’liuri h. He strm !, Sherman like . n cyclone, rushing his fine of battle right . । I on to the bntteru s and throwing many of . i । tho new troops who had never been in | ■ ( battle into great capturing sev- | bi oral pieces of artillery ami the camps of] । ■ nni ® f’ler: in I anil driving them 4Z3 I y <j » GENERAL DON ( AELOS 81/ELL. back to the line of battle formed by Gen. Hurlbut at Peach Orchard and Hornets’ ’ Nest. About In a. m. there was a eon- , centration of the I nion forct - under the . ! direction of Gen. Grant, who arrived on ; | the battlefield about 9 a. m.. and the fur- ; ther progress of the Confederates was stopped. Deatli of Gen. Johnson. A terrible struggle took place later on the crest of a hill at the Hornets’ Nest. For five hours brigade after brigade was in vain led against the I nion forces sta-

x //j r , I WWt & " • V iaJ I i 11 fi A ,<as.. SHILOH SPRING NO. 2. This Is one of the Shiloh Springs near where the battle opened and where wounded! from both armies gathered in large numbers for water.

tioned here. When Gen. Johnston came up and saw the situation, he said: “They are offering stubborn resistance here. I shall have to nut the hiyonet to them." He sent Gov. Harris, of his staff, to lead the Forty-fifth Tennessee Regiment. Gen. Johnston rode out in front and slowly down the line. His hat was off. His presence was inspiring as he sat on his thoroughbred bay. His voice was persuasive. His words were few. He said, “Men, they are stubborn. We must use the bayonet.” When he reached the center of the line he turned and said: “I will lead you,” and moved toward the Federal lines.

With a mighty shout the Une moved forward with a charge. A sheet of flame and a mighty uproar burst from tho Federal stronghold. The Confederate line withered, but there was not an instant’g pause. The crest was gained, and Gen. Johnston had his horse shot in four places. His clothing was pierced with bullets and his boot solos cut by minie balls. The Federal soldiers kept up a continuous fire as they fell back on their reserves and delivered volley after volley as they suddenly retired. A minie ball from one of these did its fatal work. As he sat there after his wound, Gov. Harris returned and finding him very pale asked him, “General, are you wounded?” He answered in a very deliberate and emphatic tone, “Yes, and I fear seriously.” These were his last words. , All next day the roll of artillery and infantry was heard all along the lines, and every foot of ground was being contested,' as the Confederates were being pressed back from the battlefield. The losses had, been fearful on both sides. The Confederates were driven from every position until they reached the old Shiloh Church where the battle had commenced on Sunday morning. They still held the ridge which had been charged and recharged time and time again. Gen. Grant came up and, seeing the situation, he selected eatche’s brigade of Gen. Hurlbut’s division, with other regiments, and formed them in lino for the final charge. “Well do we remember,” writes Col. Lee, “when they took off their hats and gave three cheers for the Union and the old flag. Then sweeping up the slope and over the ridge .they disappeared down the decline, carrying everything before them and

I driving the (’onfederate army ftom the i field. Cheer after cheer went up as the ■ last shot died away in the distance and j Shiloh was won.” i Gen. Beauregard, in his report made ! after the battle, places the Confederate I loss at 10,<>99. From later facts derived ; from the regimental, brigade and division I commanders, it has been ascertained to ' haveLrvn »MUch larger. Gen. Grant placed the Union loss at 13.047. which in the judgment of many is stir below the actual | loss. There are buried in the.^^MaaLfc»*>W*B“ f^r n H r TTnTTWflTca!T l, Te?Wesu numbi r that were taken north by their friends i and buried in the cemeteries at home or j who died nt the various hospitals and were burii-d in the National cemeteries in I the North. The correct figures will show a loss <>f killed and wounded and died of ■ wounds of not less than 30,000. TWO FATAL WRECKS. Four Persons Killed by an Accident, at Sammerfield, Ohio. Four persons were killed outright and a fifth fatally injured in a. wreck on tho Be'.laire. Zanesville and Cincinnati narrow gauge at a tr< stle five miles west of Summerfield, < )hio. A coach jumped the track as the train was approaching the trestle, which is situated on a < urve. The coach ran on the ties half way across, and then the engine also left the rails, carrying down five bents of the trestle to the ravine fifty feet below. A fearful w reck occurred at Wood river bridge, on the Chicago and Alton cut-off, about half a mile north of Alton, 111. A long, heavy freight train was coming down the grade when the middle of the train bulged out, and fifteen cars were piled on top of each other. Four men were killed outright and two fatally injured. None of them were known, but are supposed to be tramps who were stealing a ride. The wreck was caused by the train being too heavily loaded behind. and when the brakes were put on the front cars the weight behind was thrown on to a flat car in the middle of the train,

crushing it to atoms and wrecking the other cars. This European interference in Central and South American affairs is becoming a nuisance. It’s time for Uncle Sam to stop all debate and convince the lesser powers that they can’t play in his back yard. Miss Adele M. Fielde would have only as many Chinamen come here as there are Americans going to China. The shippers of Southern California are doing a fine business now in selling carloads of “Florida oranges."

——. lb —— THE SURPRISED TRAMP. I-1' 7"' |i| ]’' J 7 This drunken tramp sees the egg, but not the chicken, and he exclaims: “Ah, there, my Easter egg!” JSI£ His next remark is as follows—to wit; “Mished it, b'gosh.” Then, on second thought, he says: “Oh, thash all right. It can’t get away now.” At this stage of the performance hi simply observes: “Steady now, ol’ boy.” His concluding words are: “♦Vow; Alj birdie; you didn't git out zat shell a min ute too soon for your own good.” An Easter Thought. Beneath the winter's mounded snow The frozen world: insensate lay; It knew not of the winds that blow, Os gathering night or dawning day. The giant trees with branches bare. Moved in the Wind with moaning sighs No bird-songs floated on the air, And rose in triumph to the skies. But see, what miracle is this? Again the prisoned waters flow, The green earth throbs with conscioui bliss, Again the south winds softly blow. From lands afar the birds come back To woodland nook or sheltered grove. Through fields of air without a track, Each to the nest it learned to lave. And He whose hand revives each flower Who hides the birds from Winter’i breath. Who gives to Spring, life as her dower, Can He not save a soul from death? 0 mark how leaf and blossom wave Where lately all was bare and gray. And doubt not, risen from the grave, Our Lord and Saviour lives to-day. —Leisure Hours. The Christian Believer. Each morning is to him a reminder thal he has risen with Christ, and that the day before him must be a day of aspiration after higher things. To him the spring-tide of the year cannot set in un associated with the great fact of his faiti and the chief force of his spiritual life. As lie sees “the motions of tho spring” are movements upward, outward, onward. Tlie milder sky, the more benignant breeze, the flower bursting out of its hard bulb and its cold bed, the returning bird with song exultant after silence, and the hillside daily growing more umbrageous, are signs, for him, of life, and of lire after death. The resurrection of his Lord means more to him, amid the splendid symbols of the spring time, than it did as a hope cherished, without the symbol, and. as it were, against liope, amid the sterilities of winter. Hateful Thing. Miss Singlewuu—What a hateful tiling Lyddy White Is! Miss Thingummy—Why, what has she been saying now? Miss Singlewuu—l just happened to say she’d never see 45 again and she < b I: "Not when I look at you.”—Bos-, ton Transcript An Ingenious Scotchman. An ingenious Scotchman has devised i tlireail-spinning apparatus that is opa- • I by two trained mice. In driving •h ' iittle mill with their paws the anlim'.s daily perform work equivalent to riveling a distance of ten and a half u iles.—Exchange. An Explanation at Last. Insomnia is a frequent forerunner of insanity. This explains why so few policemen become Insane.— Texas Siftings.