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About The Nebraska advertiser. (Nemaha City, Neb.) 18??-1909 | View Entire Issue (June 5, 1903)
i 8 1C rt" v Mrs. Pell's Decoration Day EMILY S. WINDSOR. 0Y TIIE aid of the calendar hang ing on her wall, Mrs. Pell found that there were 14 weeks before Dec rftraM" day. Ffcihe was not an adept at mental arith metic, so that it was quite a lengthy and laborious piece of work for her to calculate that if she saved 12 cents each of those 14 weeks, she would have one dollar and G8 cents. She had just finlshe'd counting it up & second time in order to be sure that it was correct, when her neighbor, Mrs. Wilkes, from the next room below in the big tenement house, came in for their usual evening chat. She was a thin, nervous looking little woman of middle age. Neither her faded gray hair nor her dress was tidy. She was a strong contrast to Mrs. Pell, who was always neat and clean; she was much older than Mrs. Wilkes, too. Most of Mrs. Pell's days wbre spent in office cleaning, while Mrs. Wilkes' time was well filled with washing and ironing.' After the' had exchanged their news of the day, Mrs. Pell suid : "Would you think that a body could get a nice lot of flowers for a dollar and sixty-eight cents?" "Sure and I'd think that n lot of money to be spendin' in such a way," answered Mrs. Wilkes, with n look of surprise on her weather-beaten face. "I'd. like it to be more," returned Mrs. Pell, "but not a cent more than 12 cents a week can I spare." "I'm sure I'm not knowin' what your talkin' about," said Mrs. Wilkes, the surprise in her face increasing. "I'll be tellin'yoiK It's for the graves on Decoration day.' I've just set my heart on coverin' 'em with flowers this year. I've, been wantin to do it every r J, j , iltlfliP7 o-tffliiL . A Every time the pntied a Florist, the would top and look at the flowori. year, but somethin' always happened to prevent. But this year, they're goin' to be there." "Oh!" ejaculated Mrs. Wilkes. "Yes," went on Mrs. Pell, "I'm feelin' cure there'll be nothin' to prevent this year. And it's white roses I want. Teddy was crazy after 'em." She rocked her chair, and hid her face in her blue gingham opron. Mrs. Wilkes could not enter very deeply into her friend's feelings. She had never had any children, and her husband had been lost at sea so many years before that he was now but a dim memory; besides, he had never in life given her any reason to mourn his loss. Rut she kept respectfully silent until Mrs. Pell's burst of grief was over. Then she said: "White roses is nice. You ought to be gettin' a lot for so much money." Mrs. Pell shook her head. "I don't know. Flowers is dear." Mrs. Pell carefully put aside 12 cents each week from her meager earnings. Every time that she passed a florist's window on her way to work, she would Ktop and look otthe flowers displayed, and try to decide which window con tained the most beautiful white roses. "FoiI must get the finest to be had," 6he would think. The prospect of buying those flowers often formed the subject of her chats with Mrs. Wilkes. To the latter $1.08 seemed an enor mous sum to spend in any such a way. "Be sure that you get the worth of j-our money," she would say. "They've got to be fine ones," Mrs. Fell would answer. Spring had been long in coming that 3ear, and it was late in May before the garden i-oecs began to show their colors. Mrs. Pell had few opportunities of seeing any of these, the tenement in which she lived being in a district where there was not enough earth room for a blade of grass to grow. Mrs. Poll, like many of her neighbors, had a few pots. of geraniums on her window sills, but they were not luxuriant in growth. The olr, close and sunless, was not conducive to floriculture. Mrs. Tell had once tried to ratee a white rose, out it had died an early death. Bui on Sundays, when she was not too tired, she went to church. Her way thither led past many beautiful gar dens. One of them she particularly ad mired. It was a large, old-fashloncd garden surrounding a beautiful old house. There were roses and roses. Roses climbing over trellises, nnd clam bering about the broad veranda which ran along the side of the house. They were just such roses as had grown about the little country home to which she had gone as a bride, says the Chicago Advaacc. The sight of them took her back to the days when she had been bo happy. Then had come the dnrk time when her husband returned from the war with broken health. To mend their fortunes they had come to the city. Rut things had gotten worse. Her husband had soon died. She and Teddy had struggled alone. She hnd looked forward to the day when Tcddj; would be taking care of her, for he waB a good boy. But he had been laid beside his father eight years ago. How he had loved those roscsl He had often said that he would have a garden full of them when he was a man. He would be- a man now if he were living. The dny before Decorntlon day came. Mrs. Pell had gone much sooner than usual to her work, and by hurrying a great deal, had been able to return home at four instead of six, her usual hour. It was her plan to put on her beBt clofheB nnd then go to the florist's and select and order her flowerB. She would call for them early the next morning, and take them to the ceme tery. The day was to be a holiday. She had just unlocked her door, nnd entered her room, when Mrs. Wilkqs came in. Her eyes were swollen from crying. "Sure, and what's the matter?" cried Mrs. Pell. "It's Sally. She's sick, and goin' to die. The woman that's been takin' care of her wrote to tell me.. And she, wants to see me once more." "Well, sure nnd you'll be ngoin'," snld Mrs. Pell. Mrs. Wilkes burst into tears. "It's that I'm feelin' so bad about. It costs three dollars to go, and me with noth in' but n dollnr and a half to myniame. You see, I paid the rent two days ago. And not one of the neighbors with a' cent to lend me." "And it's too bad, it is," ejaculated Mrs. Pell, f eelinglj. "Yes, and there's n train at seven," said Mrs. Wilkes, with fresh tears. "Unless " she went on hesitatingly, "you could lend me enough!" "It's too bad, it is," exclaimed Mrs. Pelfc- "Sure and I paid my rent last week, too." She looked distressed. She was always onxiousjo help anyone in trouble. "I know but " Mrs. Wilkes hesi tated more than before. "I I thought perhaps you'd let me hove that money you saved for the flowers. Poor Sollie! I'd like to see her once more. She's my own sister, sure." "Lend you that monej-! Oh! Mrs. Wilkes, 1 can't! I've hnd my heart set so long on coverin' the graves this Dec oration day." "I thought likely you wouldn't want to. Poor Sallie! And I'll never see her again." Mrs. Wilkes turned away with a hopeless air, and went slowly back to her room. Mrs. Pell hastily prepared to go to the florist's to select and order her flowers. She felt very sorry for Mrs. Wilkes, but of course she could not lend her that money. If she had saved iUfor any other purpose but that ! She had tried for so many years to be able 'to cover those graves with roses, and now when she had the money to give it all up. She hoped Mrs. Wilkes did not think her mean. She would have been glnd to clo anything else for her. And it was a pity that she could not see her sister before she died. She was the only relative she had, too. If it had only not been that money! And if it were not Decoration dny! She wanted to put flowers on their graves at the time that other peo ple were remembering their dead. Mr. PcII'b stcpB became slower nnd slower, and as she came in sight of the florist's shop, sho stood still, nnd re mained in deep thought for some min utes. Then she turned suddenly and walked back to the tenement, and into Mrs. Wilkes' room. She found the lat ter sitting with her face in her hnnds and crying. Mrs. Pell put lier precious $1.08 In her hand. "There," she said, "just take it. Hurry and get ready, and I'll go to the train with you." "Oh!" cried Mrs. Wilkes, "sure and I always knew you were a good woman. Poor Sallie! I'll be sceln' her again." Mrs. Tell did not sleep well that night. It hurt her to think of those two graves being flowerless another Decoration day. They were in such f remote part of the cemetery thaMhey never shared in the general decoration of graves. She decided thai she would not go to the cemetery at all. She could not bear to think of seeing oth ers carrying their flowers while her hands must be empty. Rut in the morning she changed her mind. It seemed unkind to leave her graves unvislted. She would go In the nf tcrnoon when the services were over and the cemetery would be compara tively deserted. It was such a lovely day. The ride in the cars would do her good. Mr. Grahnm, his wife and Rerta and Tom drove out to the cemetery, their carriage filled with baskets of roseB. They had almost stripped the many bushes in their garden. After their grandfather's and grand mother's and Aunt Edith's graves had been piled high with odorous blossoms tliere wns still a large basketful ol beautiful white roses left. "Let us drive around and see if there nre any graves without any flowers," said Rerta. "Yes," said Mrs. Graham, "I like that thought." Rut there did not seem to be any graves undecorntcd until they reached a more distant part of the cemetery. tf'' ' 8he found theio two a mnti of exqultlti rciet. There two sunken graves, with weather-worn wood markers at the head, were flowerless. "How lonely they look!" said' Tom. "Ys," said Mrs. Graham, "I think that you must empty this 'basket on them." "Let. me and Tom do it," said Rerta. Soshe and her brother jumped out of the carriage and went over to the two graves. There were enough roses to completely cover them both. "Now they don't look so lofiety,'' said Rerta, with a backward glance, as she drove away. And so it was that when late in the afternoon Mrs. Pell came -to the lonely spot where lay her husbnndi and son, she found the two mounds a mass of exquisite roses. And they looked like the roses she hnd had in her little country home in those long past days the white roses that Teddy had so loved. filfTj And im Im wc Sj IK v win J m las &pwt 2sjrW AFTER MANY DAYS A DECORATION DAY STORY fffiif The liireet waB blocked by carryalls filled with children, decked la white, companies of soldiers, men on horseback, the Grand Army veterans, now but u remnant of the mighty host that ouuo marched away to make history, and numerous organ izations in double ranks. Jerky strains of the "Star Spangled Rnnncr," min gled with the sound of tho life nnd drum, floated out on tho morning nlr. Tho notes of "Marching Through Georgia" were caught, echoed nnd answered by "Colum bia, Gem of the Ocenu," from tho adjacent streets, while the Spanish-American wrir soldiers contributed "A Hot Time." Flags and bnnners streamed from all windows. For It wns the 30th of May. Rob Mnndcl, a young southerner, enjoyiug his first glimpse of llfo in tho northern states, threaded his wiiy through tho crowded streets, which seemed to him to bear the air of a gala day. Ho turned Into n Btreot where toll trees cast a grateful shade on tho pave ment. Then his heart beat more quickly. At the end of tho block he saw Jocelyn-Jocclyn, sweet and 17,. nnd but very recently his llanccc. Jllssnunterlnir nacu Threaded hit wag changed to brisker gait, through the crowded Jooelyn!" She turned n pretty, surprised face to his". "Where nre you going, Jocelyn? I called at your house Just now, but found it closed." "I am going to spend the dny with my grandmother." "And she is the only member of your family I huvo not met, so I will go with you." "No, Rob; not to-dny. This Is always n sad day for poor grandma." "Oh, your grandfather was killed in tho civil war, I prusume," ho added, feelingly. t "Worse than that, Rob. He belonged to tho 'missing,' nnd not missing In action, cither. Vu can walk to (ho house with me and I will tell you about it. Early in tho war my grandfather was tnken sick In quarters. Reforo he wns well his regiment received orders to move on and com menced their march at night. Grandpa, delirious with fever, was placed ii the nmbulnnce. "He was never ngain heard from, and they say tho sad tidings wonld have killed my grandmother, but she felt that sho must live to have re moved from the muster roll tho cruel word 'deserter.' , "For years she went, continually to the window to wntch for him; tho doorbell never rang, a footstep never paused before tho door but hot heart beat with expectancy, she Knew that whatever had been his fate, he did not merit the cruel chnrgo of desertion, for he was a grand nnd brave man. "She worked unceasingly to get the charge re moved, and years after the war succeeded In doing bo. That lifted her sorrow slightly, but this Decoration day is a dreaded one to her. She grieves so to think thnt she cannot care for his grave, and sho envies all those women bearing flowers to their dead In tho cemetery." Rob wns strangely silent after listening to tho recitnl of this little tragedy. "It is very, sad and strange," he said, reflectively. "It recalls a war story that my grandmother has often told me" I "1 will have to hear It some other time, Rob, for this is my grandmother's house, and you inustv go back." "I am going In with vou." ho announced, In deter mined tones. Bhe turned a pretty, "Oh, no, Rob!" she replied, hurriedly. "The fact in, urPrlted fac. to hi.. I haven't told grandma of our engagement You see you must expect hex to be prejudiced at first because you are a southerner and" "She would naturally feel that, way, for I presume sho imagines that your grandfather was killed by confederates." "Yes, 'and to-day, of all days, her feelings would he more keen. So you must wait, Rob, nnd meet her tinder other conditions." "No, I am going in now!" he said, resolutely, as ho ascended tho steps. Jocelyn's grandmother met them in tho hnll. She looked like a picture grandmother with her soft white curls and gown of silver gray. "Where Is your home, Mr. MandelV" asked the old lady, politely. Jocel3'n gave him a beseeching look, but he replied unflinchingly: "Atlnntn, Georgia." Jocelyn's grandmother turned her face toward tho window, and Jocelyn grew rebellious. "Mrs. Royce," said Rob, earnestly, "Jocelyn has been telling mo thla morning of your sad bereavement." Rob rose and crossed tho room, seating himself beside her. "What she told mo decided mo to come in and relate to you an in cident of my grandmothers life (hiring tho war. Sho wns the wife of n confederate ofllucr and lived on tTFo outskirts of Atlanta. Early myi morning a servnnt came into tho house nnd told her that he had found u sick Yankee in the stable." Mrs. Royce started, and nn cngcr look of interest brightened her wan face. Jocelyn's eyes grew ex pectant. "Oh, Rob!" she said, softly. "My grandmother," resumed the young mnn, "ac companied the servant to the Htnblo and found the report to be correct. From the clothing nnd appear ed., ,,-. ) unco of the , sick man she saw, lying on tho floor she ftj """ A knew him to be more than ti common soldier; f g I "He wns delirious and apepared to bo very ill. Sho at once had mm carried to tne nouse and nurseu mm with the cure and tenderness she would huve given to her own. He lived but u week " Rob puuscd. - "Oh, is that all?" Mra. Royce gave an agonlzpd cry. 1 T Q-tffcv ttkfjfflfjll H rter u randmother met them In the hall. "No," said Rob, gently. ciw. fminil In IiIh nnclcot a memorandum book, the Vlcnf of wlTch 'imd been written a name and address in pencil-" "And the name!" gasped Mrs. Royce, tremulously. i" ;, "V "..,.. ,.,,, iiwlhhv. the last name was Royce tho name of the town was completely erased-the state was Ohio. "Oh. it must have been my husband. If I could only bo suro! sho ..f - - 'My grandmother w.ts nn nrtlst. Shcr I will Cl-llfl ..r ii.il ... 1w " cnlri Unh. "Mv C thought of the absent wife, or mother, or sweetheart, who would mourn him as missing, and she sketched the soldier as he lay 111. A very accurate, carefully drawn sketch." .,,,, , -, "Have you seen it? Can you tell mo how ho looked?" she Implored. "The expression," said Rob, "Is Jocelyn's. I noticed tho resemblanca as soon as 1 recalled the sketch." "And Jocelyn is tne image or lier grnmiininori "I will write to my grandmother to-day and tell her of you. nsk her to write to you tlie full particulars unu sonu you the sketch. She sent n statement of tho ease to some of the Ohio papers at tho time, but never re ceived a clew to the identity of the soldier." "And where was he buried?" "In our grounds at flr.st. Later, tho government removed his body, and it now lies in, the National cem etery at Marietta, Ga." There folowed n long conversation,, in which Rob hnd to repeat many times all he could recall of his grandmother's oft-repented story. "How can T ever thank you or repay you for giving me the greatest happiness of my llo since the war?" exclaimed Jocelyn's grandmother. "I can tell you how," he said, frankly. "Ry giving me Jocelyn." "With all my heart," she responded. Jocelyn was in the depths of contrition. "Will you forgive ine, Hob?" she asked, wistfully. "Forgive you, Jocelyn?" he asked, wonderingly. IIT ..,. . a 111 rur wiiii i.- "Never mind for what." she laughed. The young mnld and her lover in their paradise of lova wera not a happy us Jocelyn's grandmother in her new-found joy. Seating hlmielf be tide her. aggggaagggww. ttwmsmsm .-vfrn' J mh