SHORT STORY

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 357, 12 March 1903, Page 7

SHORT STORY

It was in the Bummer of the year '92. While father?, brothers, husbands and sons away in the south fought for their country's cause, sisters, wives, and mothers waited some news of the beloved ono. They were hard times for many a poor woman, left with a brood of little ones to fted and clothe, and perhaps hard times might have come to Sallie Bussel, Linda Najlor, and Emily Moore bad not good old Grandmother Naylor taken them home to the great white farmhouse on the hill, where, though they were said to be just visiting, it was well understood they were to stay tail their fathers came home from the war. Such fun as they had, racing through the oroad, sunlit halls, playing hida-and-Beek in and about the old-fashioned rooms, or sitting, when evening was come, upon the broad verandah that ran across the front of the house, listening to the ghost stories which Mirady Ann, the maid of all work could ML Sometimes Joe, the only one of grandmother's boys left, would steal softly behind the little group, and jnsfc at the most feaisome moment, utter a deepdrawn * 00-00-oo!' which would frighten them almost as much as though a ghost had really appeared; yet one evening, when he kindly .volunteered bis sexvicea as a bodyguard during a certain expedition, tney accepted gladly. ' Let's play soldiers, children' proposed Sallie, aa she struggled, very breathless and red of face, out of the deptbs of an ancient polonaise which had hung in the attic many years. 'AH right. People will have lots more sympathy for as then. 1 Emily was carefully turning the sleeves ef a waist which she intended to wear inside out so as to to look more beggarly, she explained. •And it'll be the truth, too,' Linda said, a little sadly. . . She was all dressed now—a quaint figure in sweeping draperies, over which she was constantly tripping,. while her bright eyes looked out from the shadow of aa immense sunbonnet. They had visited two or three houses before a plan worthy of the occasion was thought oat, and then it was only with the help of 'Doc* Waite, a neighbour boy and boon companion. While the girls played out their little comedy in the kitchen, Joe had climbed the back-stairs to Doc's little attic-room, and the two, after much whispering, nad at last hit upon a satisfactory scheme. From the Waitee' comfortable farmhouse the little company made their way down a solitary road till they came to a tiny cottage where old Mrs. Flynn lived alone, now that her only son, Paddy, was 'away to the war.' It had been a cruel blow to the little woman when this merry-hearted, blue-eyed- lad had enlisted; yet what could she do, save what hundreds of other mothers did ? Kits him and give him her blessing, then watch, with tearless eyes, till the long line of blue-coated men were lost in the distance, and the fair hair of the standard-bearer, her own Paddy, gleamed like a bit of sunlight among the trees ? When next she heard of nun, it was news that when the roll was called, •iter that terrible battle of Antietam, her boy was not there to answer his same. Mrs. Flynn greeted hexgueats with oldtime courtesy, for she had known them well in happie.- days. They put their baaxets of delicacies on the rude table, then, with many kind words, turned to go, but she stayed them with the eager question: * Won't yon sing something for mep If s a long time since I've heard any singing.* ' What shall it be, Mrs. FlynnP' asked Sallie/ 'Won't you sing The Vacant Chair?' she asked, and their fresh young voices woke the stillness of the little room as they sang: ' We stall meet, but we shall miss him,' There will be one vacant chair * *

All through the verses the little other, with. white hands folded, gat motioßleaß, and, though they did not know it, jhe waa no longer alone, for the imape of her Faddy was with her, when the children went silently ont into the night, feeling that her sorrow was too deep for words. They were very solemn now, and even Joe was saddened by the little mother's grief. He half regretted the beautiful plan which he and Doc had made in the secrecy of the attic, but it was too late to turn back, for they were coming to the loneliest part of the path, where dense rows of trees stood on either side; where pale moonlight shining through the branches let fall strange shadows about them, and the night wind went moaning and sighing through the leave*. Almost unconsciously the girls huddled cleaerto Joe, and he was quite ashamed when a fluttering white 'something' leaped into the path directly in front of them and stood waring its long arms wildly, whilst iia ghostly garments streamed out behind. The reaction was bo great that for the moment the girls could only stand half fascinated by this awful thing. Then with a scream, Emily turned and followed •Jby the other two, rushed pell-mell down the road. How Sallie ever scaled the straggling fence and that, too, in the ample polonaise, the girl could never tell. All she knew was that the momectshe touched the soft grass on the other side her terror was forgotten in the greater one which was now before her. ' Joe! Emily! Linda! Here's a soldier and he's dead !' she screamed. Joe was across the fence in an instant. ' What do you mean. Sallie Russell ?'* He caught her arm almost roughly, then dropped it as she pointed to the fence coiner. The boy bent forward eagerlyj thrust his hand inside the bluecoat of tne man lying there so still, turned the white face towards the moonlight, then gave a long whistle as he looked up and said t 'lt's Paddy Fljnn come home again, just as bis mother eaid. He isn't dead yet, but he'd soon have been if we hadn't found him. There's no time to lose.' Jt was a queer little procession that retraced its steps towards the cotta s e. The sheet which Doc had worn made a

How Faddy Flynn came Home.

very good stretcher, and all lent a hand in carrying the unconscious man. Linda had been sent ahead to tell the mother, lest the shock be too great. * I knew my Paddy was coming home/ she said, and stood waiting in the doorway, till they brought him in and laid him gently on the bed. ' Soon the blue eyes opened and looked fondly up at her, and at last he was able to tell them all. He had been severely wounded at Antietam and had come from the hospital only a few weeks before. His furlough granted he had started home to eisk down when almost in sight of the cottage, faint with hunger and loss of blood. ' But now I'm home. Mammy,' he said, patting the wrinkled hand that lay close to his own, * I'm going to get well and strong once more, though if it hadn't been for ihe children, I might never have come home at all.' Again the little band went out through the narrow door and away into the aight. This time they sang: * When Johnny comes marching home again, Hurrah! Hurrah! We'll give him a hearty welcome then, Hurrah! Hurrah I The men will cheer, the boys will shout, The ladies they will all turn out, And well all be gay—when Johnny comes marching home.' And the soldier and little moiher smiled as its happy echo came back to them Fbdicb Vaughn.