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Show i, a ' 1 . (Copyright, 1916, by the McClure Newspaper Newspa-per Syndicate.) THE rain fell steadily on the drenched earth. From the blossoming apple orchards waves of perfume wafted over the land. Sarah Lewis glanced up sharply as her son came into the room. "Where are you going Peter?" she asked. "Down to the choir practice," he answered an-swered quietly. The old woman looked out into the fast falling dust. She felt that what she had to say could be more easily spoken If her son's big brown eyes were not watching her furtively. "Do you remember what happened twenty years ago tomorrow, my son?" She asked. "Certainly, mother, I remember. I am not likely to forget it." he replied. "I hope you never will, my son. You were but seven then, Peter, but you must remember that sad homecoming home-coming of your slain father. Perhaps you even remember that the body of another soldier was brought here at the same time, by the same train. You know who I mean Asa Lynn. He fought on the Confederate side." "I know it, mother," said Peter, gently. Only nineteen years had passed since the close of the Civil war the events of that distressful period were vividly present in Sarah Lewis' memory. "Asa Lynn fought on the wrong side," she went on in a hitter tone. "It may even have been his hand that took your father's life. We shall never know." "I, for one, shall give him the benefit bene-fit of the doubt," said Peter gravely. "Because he was Bessie Lynn's father, I suppose." He flushed deeply and a determined look came into his face. "You should know me better than that, mother," he said shortly. "I know you better than you think, my son. I've heard I've seen I "Where Are You Going, Peter?" know what is going on between you and Bessie Lynn, whose father fought in the Confederate army and who very likely murdered your poor father!" "Ah, I don't like to lcok at it in that horrible way, mother! I always like to think of them both as brave men fighting for what they believed to be - the right. Now, kiss me, mother, I'm going. Aren't you going to prayer meeting tonight?" "No," said Sarah Lewis decidedly. "It is at Mrs. Lynn's and you know we haven't spoken for twenty years, aud never shall speak if I have my way. I hope this rain doesn't spoil all the flowers. I want tc put some on your father's grave in the morning before the crowd gets to the cemetery." ceme-tery." "The snowball bush is almost breaking down with its load of blossoms blos-soms and the Ulacs are out," sail! Peter pacifically as he left the house. Sarah Lewis watched him until his sturdy form disappeared down the darkening road. "I wouldn't have cared if it had been any other girl than Bessie Lynn," , she groaned bitterly. "I suppose sup-pose Mary Lynn is Just easy enough not to mind but I do!" It was not raining on the morning of Memorial day, but it was a pale and watery sun that shone on the headstones in the Edgerly churchyard. The Lewis plot and the Lynn plot ere aide bj side, separated only by iron chains looped from granite posts. The g-aves of the two soldiers were almost side by side rather less than four feet apart, only the soft turf and the sagging chain between. This very proximity of the graves was another drop in Sarah Lewis' bitter cup. Once an ambitious periwinkle peri-winkle had crept from Asa Lylir. s grave under the chain and had proceeded pro-ceeded to establish itself directly over the resting place of the other soldier. Mary Lynn and her daughter had discovered it and had left it untouched. When Sarah discovered it she tore it ruthlessly up by the roots and flung it contemptuously into the adjoining lot. So, in like manner, she had repelled all the gentle advances of Mary Lynn and her daughter. Early in the morning Sarah and Peter carried great baskets of flowers flow-ers to the churchyard. They heaped the well-kept mound with snowballs and lilacs and blood-red sprays of Japan quince, not forgetting such a liberal display of the national colors as befitted the occasion. But Asa Lynn's grave was bare save for" its green covering of turf and the blue-flowered periwinkle. Peter had finished his task and was gazing wistfully at the flowers still remaining in his basket. "Mrs. Lynn and Bessie have been called over to Plantsville," he said 1)1 pj Bessie and Peter Went Away Together. 'hesitatingly. "Her sister is sick. I don't suppose you'd want me to put these over there" he nodded across the chain. With a fierce look and without a word Sarah Lewis snatched the basket bas-ket from his hand and began to heap the sprays of lilac on the mound already al-ready hidden beneath a wreath of blossoms, and then in silence they went their way homeward. David returned to his work in the field, and all day long Sarah went about her household tasks with compressed com-pressed lips. It was, indeed, discouraging to endeavor en-deavor to bring up a son to an Inheritance In-heritance of patriotic hatred and then have him refuse it! It was a tempestuous evening. The sun disappeared in a cloud bank and soon it began to storm fiercely. During Dur-ing the night a hurricane lashed the earth mercilessly and stripped the remaining re-maining blossoms from the orchard trees. At daylight it cleared and, after they had breakfast, Peter and his mother made their way to the churchyard church-yard to see what havoc the storm had wrought. Peter bore with him a basket of flowers gathered in anticipation antici-pation of what the storm might do. As they entered the gate they saw Bessie Lynn and her mother passing in almost beside them. The two older women nodded Btiff' ly, Bessie smiled uncertainly and i Peter hesitated rather awkwardly. Arriving at the objective "joint at about the same time, the four stood speechless at the transformation worked by the litorm where there had been two g.'aves now appeared only one, an unenclosed area covered with water-soaked purple and white. As if to emphasize the futility of sectional bitterness, not a single flag remained above the grave of the Federal Fed-eral soldier, but one had found a lodgment lodg-ment directly over the spot where the fallen Confederate slept. And this May morning, with the song of birds and the smell of flowers, flow-ers, seemed very far removed from battlefields. Mary Lynn lifted her tear-filled eyes. "You did this, Sarah," she quavered. quav-ered. "It was good of you to forget for-get at last." But Sarah Lewis raised a protesting hand. "No, I am not good enough to have done It! God did It himself with his wind and storm to rebuke me! I suppose sup-pose he thought if he could forgive them for fighting, surely a wicked old woman like me " Then Peter unhooked the ehaia and Mary Lynn came through and put her arms around his sobbing mother. She motioned to the other to leave them. Bessie and Peter went away together. |
