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Show monsters of distorted" imagina- P tion went clatterin5 through on Mlgo "w- SIpMiiy $ ' their horses or stopped to rest in the shade of the "-!r' i ' -RJMf&l MWWLXi. trees which lined the streets. Salome Myers was &x&5lilL,', T fMWmiM I ft4. 'WwNil&lNi working with her mother in the sitting room pre- ' T j j i V SffMMi T$WW tvlkl 4 paring the midday meal. Mrs. Myers was not one '. j :J I KlMi0MIMM 's f , H ArJl a'-Wlli'slS to wail and weep at the approach of armed men. " ill' lA She proceeded calmly about her routine housework Vv V" ill ilMM. wliSL I Ulivr Is rallliili For a time Salome wound the strips of linen and s ! ) I'l I '? I l f WMiiMl Pi I i ill lB'Il B' cotton asrapidly as did her mother, and gave no ffi J 't Vlff f n fM ' M a H 1 infantrymen coming up the street. She was only 1 llh ll'jj nlllltl m f 1 iS human, and ran to the front window and threw it j ' fl 111 if , 1 1 lltHl m &ffJ Iff' I 'f. 1 1 -u 1 MiIMVIi ing up and down the street, and men were clean- JJ 1 'j .a ing rifles in anticipation of immediate conflict. i I I 1 1 1 1 I fZj lit! El WM?iMSimib li'll $ tin!' fill Wlf l Xf 4mi Nothing happened that night. Salome slept little. if. A In M MJsr.MS' fMfi M i All night long the military shouts were ringing, K I t I I I IHluJ f IMlM JIFMsMB&L. illYfiWbv vS sr ! f sharp orders and sudden challenges echoed V fn (Mm rffl 'MS'SM' HWSgt, Jl M In the morning she darted to the window. There WiMMiMMfsW Vxii I iX '$$ MI I lUl was not a sign of the Confederates. They had ESl 111 V&mJzI B A Pllll gone. A little after breakfast another rumble and f!SS fihiyj$fVjJr M lllrill clatter was heard. All dashed to the windows, Fn iMM mES''' itT SjK ' ' &UJ'l peered out, then tore into the street yelling like rli "II 'jSMj' "mM JS mad. It was the Union men galloping in. They jLSJ&rS 1tWM$ x--JJSSf poured past in seemingly Inexhaustible numbers. sWO' ' raF tMu The villagers, free to mingle once more, ran about IrSit JJWlm Wi excitedly. Salome soon found her place among s&ji' '&My?M M If the girls of her own age, who were as thrilled and VS Suddenly the cry ran around.: "Buford's cavalry J?Jl.f I is coming. They've ridden all the way from Vir- "2-2!'''Sr ginia without a stop," and a cheer of welcome -J? When they had passed an orderly dashed !ZiF'jS through the town calling upon all the villagers to "m"1 1 go to their cellars. The battle was about to begin. cmlfJ 'l'jr As they were filing into their houses the first guns i'' "f INCE the Confederate troops had iTJ' 4 0CCUPie1 tlle town of Gettysburg VCfjr 'ne res'dents stayed within 5i doors, the children now and then sl'PP'nS t windows in their curl- r oslty to see the "rebels," as those monsters of distorted imagina- "' ' tion went clattering through on their horses or stopped to rest in the shade of the trees which lined the streets. Salome Myers was working with her mother in the sitting room preparing pre-paring the midday meal. Mrs. Myers was not one to wail and weep at the approach of armed men. She proceeded calmly about her routine housework without wailing. For a time Salome wound the strips of linen and cotton as rapidly as did her mother, and gave no more thought to the outside noises than did the older woman; but at length the girl heard a louder noise than usual. It was the tramp of a body of infantrymen coming up the street. She was only human, and ran to the front window and threw it up. A large squad of Confederates were bringing some Federal prisoners into town. There were signs of increasing excitement among the Confederates. Orderlies went clattering clatter-ing up and down the street, and men were cleaning clean-ing rifles in anticipation of immediate conflict. Nothing happened that night. Salome slept little. All night long the military shouts were ringing, sharp orders and sudden challenges echoed through the streets. In the morning she darted to the window. There was not a sign of the Confederates. They had gone. A little after breakfast another rumble and clatter was heard. All dashed to the windows, peered out, then tore into the street yelling like mad. It was the Union men galloping in. They poured past in seemingly Inexhaustible numbers. The villagers, free to mingle once more, ran about excitedly. Salome soon found her place among the girls of her own age, who were as thrilled and awed as she. Suddenly the cry ran around.: "Buford's cavalry is coming. They've ridden all the way from Vir-ginia Vir-ginia without a stop," and a cheer of welcome followed the news over the town. When they had passed an orderly dashed through the town calling upon all the villagers to go to their cellars. The battle was about to begin. As they were filing into their houses the first guns roared out, and gradually grew in number and volume until the windows chattered steadily in their casements. All day they crouched in the cellar. Now and then a bullet would strike the buildings, and sometimes the glass from a breaking break-ing window would tinkle so that they could hear it from the recesses of their retreats. Troops went rushing by, sometimes silently, sometimes with loud huzzas. Late in the afternoon Doctor Fulton came to the head of the stairs and called down. He asked if there were any women below who could help care for the wounded. Mrs. Myers replied that of course there were, and started up the stairs. Salome would have followed, but her father halted his wife and tried to persuade her of the danger. But the good woman was determined, and consequently conse-quently they all went up. The Catholic church close by had been turned Into a hospital. The girl darted out of the house and across the lawn. At the church door she halted. She did not dare look inside. Horrible groans, shrieks and cries were echoing in the interior. A couple of men brushed past her with one of the stretchers stretch-ers between them. She glanced down. A face covered with blood was all she saw. A weakness gripped her heart and she staggered to one side. Someone inside was cursing with persistent blasphemy. blas-phemy. Somehow the vigor and naturalness of the act brought back her self-possession, and she marched inside. The floor was covered with blood. Men with legs or arms gone were rolling and tumbling tum-bling over still, silent figures. Others were screaming scream-ing and clutching at their mangled bodies in helpless help-less and maudlin suffering. A sickening odor sent the girl's head reeling again. At her feet a man lay watching her with dull bleared eyes. She dropped on one knee and tried to speak to him. She had no voice. Her hand trembled and she started violently as she touched him. Finally she stammered, "What can I do for you?" "Nothing," he murmured slowly. "I'm going to die," and he smiled feebly. It was too much. She fled to the church sters, quivering and sobbing in long gasps. It was near sundown and the end of a horrible day. The babel grew worse and worse. Doctors as bloody as any of the wounded men hurried here and there. Nurses ran in and out bearing bandages and buckets of water. Slowly Salome rose to her feet. She would go back in, she could bear It now she thought, and acting on the impulse, im-pulse, inspired by she knew not what, she scurried back into the shambles. She avoided glancing at the room, but knelt at the head ot the man to whom she had first spoken. He was brighter and aniled when she raised his head for a draft of water. She opened hi3 clothing and found a wound In his breast. She bathed it gently. A doctor passing told her that the man had been shot through the lung and that his spine was shattered. shat-tered. There was no hope. She looked down at the doomed man with great eyes. He was tugging tug-ging at his belt and pulled out a pocket Bible. Slowly he told her of the verse his father had read to both him and his brother when they had left for the front. She turned to the place and read it, all the while bathing his flushed forehead. He seemed relieved and talked much of his father and brother. Then he looked up at her and spoke in a strange, strained voice as though something almost too sacred for mention were being talked of. "Girl, you know I can't why, I'm married Just two days, and she'll never see me. Oh," he groaned and shut his eyes. She found, from the doctor, that no wounded man could be removed from the hospital. However, How-ever, she urged so affectingly for the privilege of bearing the young soldier into her father's home that he consented, and sent two attendants to carry him over. On the spare bed he was placed and his bloody clothing removed. Between the cool, clean sheets he breathed easier and seemed by contrast to be in veritable comfort. Once as Salome sat by the bedside of her first patient pa-tient she learned his name was Alexander Stewart. Stew-art. Stewart, while she leaned across fanning steadily, told in long, dragging breaths of his brother. Henry and he had been inseparable all their lives and had gone off together. Henry was the finest man God had ever made, and he had hoped they might be together when they came to separate for the last time, but his head sank and Salome said nothing. There was nothing for her to say. She ran out, got a pencil and paper and wrote to Henry In Washington, then to the timid bride back at home, and to the father and mother. When she had finished Stewart was asleep. Salome returned to the hospital and labored on. The second day of Gettysburg was beginning to send in its terrible toll, and there was more and more work to be done. Her own home was crowded, and her mother, Btlll calm and wonderfully skillful, cooked and prepared pre-pared necessities and delicacies with magic celerity. ce-lerity. She scarcely knew when the three days' fight was over, so intent was she upon caring for her patients, and so steadily did they come in. As many as they could find room for were brought into the Myers home. Fourteen were provided for. For weeks the house was full, and neither woman slept In a bed. - On the sixth of July young Stewart died. Salome Sa-lome was with him to the last, for he had been her first patient, and she had held his head tight against her when he had talked of his young bride. But she had no time to weep. A man in the next room was calling for water, and she had merely time to close the dead man's eyes and fold his hands across his chest. But that night she wrote long letters to the young widow and to the brother In Washington. In a few days the father came to claim the body, and he thanked the girl as well as his grief would per mit. Henry, he said, had been wounded In Washington, Wash-ington, but was recovering. Letters from the grief-stricken girl and boy came within the following fol-lowing week to Salome, and were so warm and affectionate that she responded Immediately, but first to Washington. Return letters from the brother came steadily and were as steadily answered. an-swered. Even when Camp Letterman opened and a hospital of sufficient size to care for all of the human debris which Gettysburg left had taken all the invalids from the private homes, Salome did not give up the work. She followed her soldiers sol-diers over to their new quarters and nursed them there. With the advent of winter the nursing was completed and Salome at last freed from the exacting ex-acting duties of her new occupation. Her correspondence corre-spondence was still very large. Many of the men whom she had cared for in the home and who had heard of her wrote often. Henry Stewart from the front maintained a continuous chain of letters. These Salome for some reason answered an-swered first and bent over the longest. He was out on furlough In July If all went well, he wrote in the early spring, and his sister-in-law was coming with him to see the woman who had made their loved one happy In his last moments, if they might. Salome answered immediately that they might, and so it happened. They came early in the morning almost a year to (he day from the Gettysburg conflict. They came straight to the house, for Salome had written writ-ten exact directions. Henry was much like his brother, and for a moment Salome was touched. She spoke not. The hair and forehead of the man before her was the same as that of the dead man; the lips had the same curve as those which had told the pathetic love story that night close to her cheek. All three were too moved to speak, and for a time there was a tearful silence between them. Then the little widow went to the great-hearted embrace of the nurse and Henry came near to following her, but held the firm, warm hand Instead. Salome took them over the battlefield, the church and scenes sacred to Alexander's memory, and swayed them so completely by her brave, womanly sympathy and strength that they clung to her in their grief like children to their mother's moth-er's skirts. The widow did not let her sorrow so completely dominate her but that she saw things that led her to find various excuses for staying away, when a walk or expedition was mentioned. She managed to leave the two, Henry and Salome, more and more alone. When they plighted their troth it Is not for the world to know, but the beautiful romance came to fruition In marriage and Rev. Henry Stewart and Mrs. Stewart lived happily In Gettysburg Gettys-burg for many years. |