But hundreds of homes were made
desolate b'* th rt loss of husbands, and
50ns. and brothers; hundreds of hearts
ached with a sorrow that no earthly
remedy could cure.
The Tittle mother" of tall Capt. rom
sat on the low sill of the old-fashioned
kitchen, in tho shimmering light of
the autumn moon.
Out under the tawny ches’mut tree*,
where the brook was babbling, and the
crickets chirping amid the yellow grass
es. her husband Lay in d&vh’s dream
less sleep, and tho heart of the widow
was sore with her new sorrow
“Oh. my boy!" she soblwx!. tears
raining over her cheeks, "my tall,
handsome Tom! Never to see him
again—never to hear his voice—never
to feel the embrace of his strong arms.
It is very bitter’. Oh. Tom. my boy!"
The crickets pipe<l out their shrill
melody, the autumn wind rustled the
tawnv chestnuts, and die noisy brook
babbled. The old cottage under the
misty splendor of the aufiinn moon,
with that liowed figure cn the door
step. looked unutterably lonely and
desolate
Ami the mother’s poor heart was Aill
of wordless agony, while li<t strained,
tenr-blinded eyes seemed to sec that
nameless grave far down in a South
ern valley-Iter sun’s grave, above which
her tears could never flow.
A quick, sharp step crush<-d the crisp
grass; a tall shadow darkened the au
tumn moonlight lying in silver rifts on
the white boards of the kitchen fh>or.
