Cleveland County Leader. (Lexington, Okla. Terr.), Vol. 10, No. 35, Ed. 1 Friday, May 31, 1901 Page: 3 of 8
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4
f MEMORIAL DAYj
"It's lonesome—sorto' lonesome,—It's a
Sund'y day, to me,
Jt 'pears like—mor'u any day I nearly
ever see-!
Yit, with the Stars and Stripes above,
a flutterin' in the air.
On ev'ry soldier's grave I'd love to
lay a lily there.
"T-hey « v. though. Decoration days is
ginerally observed
^ Most cv'rywheres—especially by sol-
dier boys that served—
But rue- and mother's ,never went—we
seldom git aw^y—
In pint o'fact, we're alius home on
Decoration Day,
' "They say the old boys marches
through the streets in columns
grand,
A-follerin' the old war tunes they're
playin' on the band—
And citizens all jinin' in—and little
children, too—
All marchin' under shelter of the old
Red, White and Blue,
"With roses! roses! roses!—ev'iybody
in the town!
And crowds o' girls in white, just fair-
ly loaded down! —
Oh! don't the boys know It, from their
camp acrost the hill?-—^
' Don't they see their com'ades coming
and the old flag wavin' still?
"Oh! can't they hear the bugle and the
rattle of the drum?—
Ain't they no way under heaven they
can rickollect us some?
Ain't they no way we can coax 'em
through the rises jest to say
They know that every day on eartli'3
their Decoration Day?
"We've tried that—me and mother-
where Elias takes his rest,
tn the orchard—in his uniform, and
hands acrost his breast.
And the flag he died fer, smiling and
a-ripplin' in the breeze
Above his grave—and, over that—the
robin in the trees!
"And yet it's lonesome—lonesome! —
It's a Sund'y day to me,
It 'pears like—more'n any day I nearly
ever see—
Yit, with tho Stars and Stripes above,
a-flutterin' in the air,
ev'ry soldier's grave I'd love to
lay a lily there.
—James Whitcomb Riles.
On
.QlfM
EMEMBERED
Grave Aa
by Mary E.Wilkens.
"I guess there won't be a great
\ show of flowers on Sylvester's grave
) this year," said Sarah Cook. Her
volco had a certain triumph In It, but
it ended in a decorous sigh,
"I guess there won't, either," re-
turned her sister Mrs. Kemp. "I
guess Phebe Ann is too sick to think
much about it." Her voice soundud
^Ika Sarah's.
Lucy Komj (lropoed her sewing for
a minute and turned her face toward
the window. "It seems 'most too bad,
don't it?" she said, meditativoly.
"When she's done so much every
year, and thought so much about it."
"I don't know as I think it's too
bad," said Mrs. Kemp. "Of course I'm
sorry Phebe Ann is sick, but when it
comes to these flowers she's alway3
covered Sylvester's grave with. Dec-
oration day, I guess there was a great
deal of it for show. It would have
seemed different if he had been in the
war, but I've thought a good many
times, when I've seen Sylvester's gravo
with more flowers on it than any of
the soldier's, that Phebe Ann had a
little eye to what folks would say, for
all she felt so bad."
"There's the band!" cried Lucy.
It was a very warm day for the sea-
son—almost as warm as midsummer.
The windows were wide open. The
two women and the girl leaned their
heads out and listened. They could
hear far-away music. Two little girls
with their hands full of flowers ran
past. i
"They're just forming down at the
town hall," said Lucy. "Annie Dole
and Lottie are just going."
"They came over here for flowers
this morning," said her mother, "and
I told 'em I hadn't any to give. All
I had was lilacs, besides that little
early rose bush, and they'd got all the
lilacs they wanted of their own, and
there was only just three roses on that
bush, and I could not bear to cut 'em.
The procession ain't coming—the mu-
sic don't sound a mite nearer. It
won't be here for an hour yet."
"I don't s'pose Phebe Ann's husband
will lift his finger to help us, even if
she should be taken away, and ho
left without a chick nor child in the
world," said Mrs. Kemp.
Phebe Ann's husband was her own
dead husband's brother, but she never
spoke of him by his own name.
"I wonder how much Phebe Ann'i
husband has got?" said Sarah Cook.
"Well, I guess he's laid by a littla
something. They must have, with no
family!"
"Mebbe he will do something if it
ever happens that he ain't under any-
body else's thumb."
"It won't make any difference now.
He's laid under the thumb so long that
he's all flattened out of the shape he
was made in. He used to bow Kind
of sideways behind Phebe Ann's back
when I met him, but he don't do that
now. I met him face to face the other
day, and he never looked at me. I
don't know what poor Thomas would
say if he was alive. I wonder what
Lucy is picking lilacs for? Lucy!"
"What say?" Lucy's sweet, thin
voice called back. Her smooth, fair
head was half hidden In a great clump
of lilac bushes by tho gate. She was
bending the branches over and break-
ing off full purple clusters.
"What you picking those lilacs for?"
"I just thought I'd pick a few."
"What for? I ain't going to have
any In the house!They're too sweet—
they're sickish!"
"I ain't going to bring them into the
house," said Lucy. She let a branch
fly back and went across the yard with
a great bunch of lilacs in her hands.
"I wonder what she's up to?" said
her mother.
Lucy returned Just before the pro-
cession passed. The cemetery was a
little way beyond the house. Her
mother and aunt, and a neighbor who
had come in stood at the windows
listening eagerly to the approaching
music. Lucy joined them. The pro-
cesison filed slowly past: The Grand
Army men, the village band, tho min-
isters and local dignitaries, and tho
rear-guard of children with flowers.
An accompanying crowd thronged the
sidewalks.
"I re Just been saying to Sarah that
Phebe Ann won't have Sylvestor's
grave decked out much this year,"
said Mrs. Kemp. Her voice was pleas-
anter and more guarded than before.
"I heard Phebe Ann was pretty
low," said the neighbor.
Phebe Ann's husband went softly
behind the nurse to the bedroom.
Phebe Ann looked up at him and beck-
oned Imperatively. He went close and
bent over her. "What is It, Pliebe
Ann?" said he.
"Is It—Decoration day?" she whis-
pered with difficulty, for she was
growing very weak.
"Yes, 'tis, Phebo Ann," said her
husband.
"Have yon pot- any flowers for—
Sylvester's grave?"
"No, I ain't I ain't thought of It,
Phebe Ann, with your being so sick,
and all."
"Go—get some!" she panted. Her
motioning hand and her eager eyes
spoke louder than her tongue.
"Yes, I will, I will, Phebe Ann!
Don't you fret another mite about it."
The nurse followed him out of the
room.
"I can't go to the green-house!" he
whispered agitatedly. "It's five miles
away!"
"Land, get any kind of flowers!"
said the nurse. "Get dandelions and
buttercups, if you can't find anything
else."
The old man took his hat down with
a bewildered air and went slowly out
of the yard. At the gate he paused
and looked around. There were no
flowers in the yard; there were several
bushes, rose and phlox, but it was too
early for them to blossom. Over at
the left stretched a field, and that was
waving with green and gold. Phebe
Ann's husband went over into the
field and began pulling the buttercups
in great handfulls, and the grass with
them. He" Had* all' he could carry
when he left the field and went sol-
emnly down tho road.
'Sylvester's grave was at the farther
side of the cemetery. The old man,
with his load of buttercups and grass,
made his way to it. The soldiers'
graves were decorated with flags and
flowers, but the people had gone. The:
cemetery was very still. When John
Kemp reached Sylvester's grave, h
started and stared. There was a great
bunch of lilacs on the grave and three
charming, delicate pink roses in a
vase.
"I wonder who put those flowers
there! "Jie muttered. He laid the but-
tercups and grass down on the grave;
then he stood still. It was over twen-
ty years since the boy Sylvester had
been laid there—a little soldier who
had fought only his own pain. "1
wonder who put those flowers there!"
John Kemp muttered again.
He went out of the cemetery, but
instead of turning down the road
toward his own home, walked hesi-
tatingly the other way toward the
house of his sister-in-law—Thomas'
wife, as he always spoke of her.
Lucy's face was at one open win-
dow, her Aunt Sarah Cook's at the
other.
"Lucy!" called the old man, stand-
ing at the gate.
Lucy came out to him tremblingly.
Sarah Cook ran to tell her sister; she
thought Phebe Ann must be dead.
"Do you know who put those flow-
ers there?" asked the old man in a
husky voice.
"I did," said Lucy. Her face flushed.
"I thought there wouldn't be anybody
to see to it, now Aunt Phebe Ann is
sick," she explained timidly.
Her uncle looked wistfully at her,
his eyes full of tears. "Sylvester was
a dreadful sufferer," he said.
Lucy did not know what to say. She
looked up at him, and her soft face
seemed to take on distressed lines like
bis.
The old man turned abruptly and
"Yps'm."
"■What did you put on?"..
"Some lilacs and—roses."
"You didn't pick those roses?"
"O, mother, the lilacs didn't seem
quite enough! Aunt Phebe Ann haa
always done so much!" Lucy said.
Her mother and her aunt looked at
each other. "I shouldn't have thought
you'd have picked those roses without
saying anything about it," said her
mother, but her voice was embar-
rassed rather than harsh. She went
back to the kitchen and proceeded
with her work of making biscuits for
supper. The sewing was all finished.
Lucy set the table. After supper they
went out in the cemetery and strolled
about looking at the flowers, In the
soft, low light. "Who brought all that
mess of buttercups and grass, I won-
der?" said Sarah Cook, as they stood
over Sylvester's grave.
"I guess it must have beer Phebe
Ann's husband—It looks Just like a
man," Mrs. Kemp replied. Lucy got
down on her knees and straightened
the buttercups into a bouquet.
"I wonder if she'll live the night
out," said Sarah Cook, soberly.
"I've listened to hear the bell toll
every morning this week," said Mrs.
Kemp. "I don't believe she can live
much longer. I'd go up there tonight
if I thought she wanted me to."
The next morning Mrs. Kemp, 11st-
1T WON'T WORK,
WONDER WHO PUT THOSE
FLOWERS THERE?"
went away. "Phebe Ann is sinking,"
he said, Indistinctly, as he went.
Lucy's mother and her aunt rushed
to the door to meet her, "la Phebo
Ann dead?" Sarah Cook called out.
"No, she ain't dead."
"What did he want to see you for?"
asked Mrs. Kemp.
Lucy hesitated; a shamefaced look
came over her face. "What did ho
want?" her mother askod, Impera-
tively.
"He wanted to know who put some
flowors on—Sylvester's gravo."
"Did you?"
"DO YOU KNOW WHO PUT THOSE
FOLOWERS THERE?"
ening with her head thrust out of the
window in the early sunlight, heard
indeed the bell tolling for Phebe Ann.
"She's gone," she told Sarah Coofr and
Lucy; and Lucy cried.
They all went to Phebe Ann's funer-
al and followed her to the grave. Mrs.
Kemp's and Sarah Cook's eyes were
red when they came home. "There
were a great many good things about
Phebe Ann, after all," Mrs. Kemp said.
"I always said there was," S^v&h
returned defiantly.
The morning after the funeral John
Kemp came to the door. Lucy an-
swered his knock. He looked old and
dejected, but he tried to smile, "1
want to see you a minute," said he.
"No, I can't come in—not this morn-
ing. I'm coming before long. I hope
things will be different from what
they have been. It was her wish. I
went home that day and told Phebe
Ann how you'd put the flowers there,
ind she beckoned to me to come and
lean over. Then she made out to tell
me. She wanted you to have Sylves-
ter's money that we put in the bank
for him when he was born. It's been
growing. We haven't spent any, ex-
cepting for the flowers, and its near
five hundred dollars. She wanted me
to give it to you right away, and
you're going to have it just as soou
as I can get it out of the bank. Phebo
Ann said you could have some more
schooling and not have to work so
hard. And I guess you'll have more
than that, too, some day, if you out-
live me. Phebe Ann, she thought
mebbe I could make some arrange-
ments with your mother and aunt to
come to our house and live, and take
care of it. She said she didn't want
any other women in there. She knew
they were good housekeepers and
would keep things the way she did.
You toll your mother I'm coming in
to see her some time before long."
John Kemp went feebly down tho
walk, and Lucy returned to the kitch-
en. The door had been ajar, and her
mother and Sarah Cook had heard
every word. They were both crying.
"Coming just now when wo didn't
know which way to turn!" sobbed
Sarah Cook. "Poor Phebe Ann!"
"Well, there's one thing about it,"
said Mrs, Kemp, brokenly, "there
slia'n't one Decoration day go by as
long as I live, without Sylvester's
grave being trimmed as handsome as
I' his mother was alive!"—Youth's
Companion.
MaKtrtjl the "Day Complete.
There will be old soldiers at the
Decoration day ceremonies this year
who may never be with us again; there
will be children present for the first
time, too. Then let us make the day
a nev^r-to-be-forgotten one for (|,e
ehlUl, a tender memory to the ones the
old soldier leaves behind. The early
inculcatcd lesson of patriotism will
never be effaced, and n few words of
appreciation to the veteran will mean
more than will the handsomest wreath
laid on his coffin when for him the last
bugle call has bounded.
'Veil jrn Hl«lt Reboot Clrl Organize an
A n 11-1 llrliit g Society.
The members of the San Francisco
Girls' High School have organized an
anti-BIrtlng society, it appears from
the San Francisco papers that every
girl has put her name down on tho
membership list and pledged herself
not only to abstain from flirtation but
to save other maiden from flirtation's
paths. The method to be employed by
the reformers is charmingly simple. If
a reformer chances to see a sister stu-
dent engaged in the subtle art sho
is supposed to take her in hand and
warn her of the danger of flirtation.
She is to reason with her and, above
all, impress upon her the superiority
of a G. H. S. to all the combined mas-
culine population. But her finest work
is to come wnen she espies a youth
wearing a G. H. S. pin. From that
youth she must coax the name of tho
owner and then go to the girl and seo
that she gets that pin back. It is to
be feared that this anti-fiiring society
will soon have more trouble on its
hands than the Empress Dowager.
Opinions differ as to what constitutes
flirting. Flirtation is anything but an
exact science, and any attempt to draw
the line will be productive of innu-
merable charges, counter-charges,
criminations, recriminations, denials,
appeals, shrieks, tears, hysterics,
swoons and hair-pullings. The motive
of the organization is good, but it is
seriously to be feared that the attain-
ment of its aims and objects is Im-
possible by any girl who Isn't either
a prude at heart or an incarnation ot
ugliness at face.—Anaconda (Mont.)
Btandard.
Kate Reduction Increase* Trnrel.
New Zealand made reductions on its
railway passenger rates to the extent
of about 35 per cent recently. It was
calculated ii,~* '■ ■> reduction would
cause a deeiitise of revenue to the ex-
tent of £75,000. It hasn't panned out
that way, however. Railway traveling
has increased so much that the deficit
has been wiped off, and a handsome
increase of revenue—nearly £20,000—
Is expected ere the financial year is
out.
Quaint <<r*etlnca In liuflineti.
A firm in Wolverhampton, England,
recently received a business letter
from West Africa, which closed as fol-
lows: "But before you can do good
enough to me in meantime to send mo
a very large assortment of samples,
beads, woollens, cotton yarns, to ena-
ble me to send in my new orders. I
conclude with my 10,000 kisses and
prodigious greeting to you all."
Slackening Bpeetl for Dog*.
It has been judicially decided In
Chicago that motormen on trolley
cars must endeavor to avoid running
over dogs and not rely wholly on thq
quickness of the animals to avoid acci-
dent.
KATARRH
HEAD
THR0A'
LUNGS
K1DKEYS
8LADDER
FEMALE
ORGANS
iVHFru-R
ot Peruna: "I join
Senators Sullivan, Roarh
and McEnery In their good . '1
t
HALF
ACTUAL
SIZE.
■ cptsri a
I Host Cough Syrup. Tantes (IiwkI. Uw |
In tlroo. Bold by dnigylgtn
TION
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Latham, George D. & Coombs, Charles W. Cleveland County Leader. (Lexington, Okla. Terr.), Vol. 10, No. 35, Ed. 1 Friday, May 31, 1901, newspaper, May 31, 1901; (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc109038/m1/3/: accessed April 25, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.