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Scene II.-Same as Scene I.--Mrs. H. seated alone, knitting, looks up from her work.
MRS. H. As I sit knitting to-night, I cannot but think
of the poem :
“There's but one pair of stockings to mend to-night.”
How true of my own little family. One died in infancy. Another was drowned while endeavoring to save the life of a poor widow's child. The youngest, yes, the dearest and best, died for his country; manfully did he go forth ab soon as war's hot breath o'erspread the land. What sufferings he has undergone since then! He loved his home, he loved Rosa Beaumond, but he loved his country better than all. What a blank is now in our little home. May God's mercy rest with every vacant fireside. May his presence cheer many a sad household to-night.
Enter Rosa, R.
Rosa. I have much to tell you, dear Mrs. Hansford. This day has been an exciting one to me.
MR. H. Sit down, Rosa, tell me all, you look weary and worn out.
Rosa. For sometime Jay Persings has been very attentive to me.
He told me that he felt badly to see me dressed in mourning; sympathized with me, pitied me; and to-day be wrote me, asking my hand in marriage, urging me to fix upon an early day for our wedding.
MRS. H. And your answer, Rosa ?
His offer I spurn.
Rosa. (c.) I know Jay Persings. I have seen him in the street, drunken. He is without character. Then his offer, so soon after the death of one I most devotedly loved, leads me to spurn him more than for any other act. But were he perfection, I should reject his offer.
THE SOLDIER'S RETURN.
Mrs. H. You are doubtless right, Rosa, though you surprise me, as I did not think him guilty of so great a vice.
Rosa. I had a dream the evening Mr. Hansford brought us the terrible news, but I feared to tell it you. It was so sweet a dream, so pleasant, so cheering, so impossible, that I did not tell you. (Mrs. H. appears interested.) But last night I had the same dream, saw the same vision. A group of fairies, three in number, appeared to me. I do not remember all they said, but they told me I should yet see him whom I loved. 'Tis foolish to believe in dreams, but what can this mean?
MRS. H. The same vision of which you speak, saw I on that evening. But he is dead. We can never meet him again on this earth. Those fairy angels have told us we shall meet him again, but it shall be in heaven. Come, with me, Rosa, you are weary.
Enter RALPH FIELDING R., looks wildly around.
FIELDING. What a wretched night I have passed since I wrote that dreadful letter.
Enter, unperceived, SOLDIER R., citizen's dress.
Rum has not power to make me hide that sin. Jay made me drunk before I wrote it. He promised me money, and as yet has not given it me. I have come here now for the purpose of acknowledging my whole crime. Glad am I that the girl has not married Jay Persings. This that I shall tell her will at least save her from being a drunkard's wife. Would to God that her lover still lives. (turns around and observes SOLDIER.) What are you
SOLDIER. I am he who, as a worn-out soldier met you and one you called Jay, a few weeks ago. I heard your conversation then, I heard your reverie now. I know all.
You are about to act the part of a man. Let this day be one you will long remember. Reform now.
Capt. Hansford still lives, and is now on his way home ; for some time
he has been confined in a rebel prison—was lately released, and may reach home to-day. I have learned this since I was here; and I have come to tell the family, and to inform them of Persings' infamous plot.
Enter Mr. and Mrs. H., and Rosa.
SOLDIER. Do not let our presence surprise you, listen to what this man has got to say.
FIELDING. I was implicated in a plot, gotten up by Jay Persings. That was a forged letter. Your son, madam, your lover, madam, is not dead. (surprise manifestod.) Jay made me drunk before I forged that letter. I have repented. I come to ask your forgiveness.
MR. H. Our joy is too great for us to harbor an unkind thought toward any. But who are you?
SOLDIER. Do you remember feeding a wounded soldier a few weeks since, and giving him money to proceed on his journey? I am that one. I am come to tell
your son still lives. He is on his way home. Possibly he may be here
Door opens, enter Capt. HANSFORD, R. CAPT. H. Mother! Father! and dear Rosa, is it really you?
MR. H. Let us leave them alone.
Exeunt, music, Rosa stands with both hands resting in Capt. H.'s., L. C.,
curtain falls at back of stage, Fairies appear.
First Fairy. May the anxiety which you have felt be of good to you. God ruleth! It is he that has restored your lover to you. Praise Him! (All speak.) May your lives be long and happy,
May your sorrows be but few;
And ever may you be true.
BURIAL OF THE CHAMPION OF HIS CLASS.
BURIAL OF THE CHAMPION OF HIS CLASS,
AT YALE COLLEGE.
X. P. WILLIS.
YB've gathered to your place of prayer
With slow and measured tread :
But the soul of one has fled.
The manliest of ye all;
And ye around his pall ?
Ye reckon it in days, since he
Strode up that foot-worn aisle,
And bis lip wreathed with a smile.
To mark whose lamp was dim-
Would ye have singled him ?
Whose was the sinewy arm, that flung
Defiance to the ring ?
Yet not for
No rivalry might brook,
There lies he-go and look !
On now-bis requiem is done,
His last deep prayer is said-
With a friend and brother dead !
It is a man ye bear!
Slow, for our thoughts dwell wearily
On the gallant sleeper there.
Tread lightly, comrades !—we have laid
His dark locks on his brow-
We'll not disturb them now.
That blue-vein'd eyelid's sleep,
Its slumber we will keep.
Rest now! his journeying is done
Your feet are on his sod-
He waiteth here his God.
To be heart-broken here-
Is water'd by the tear.
SCOTT AND THE VETERAN.
An old and crippled veteran to the War Department came,
“ Have you forgotten, General," the battered soldier cried, “The days of eighteen hundred twelve, when I was at your side ? Have you forgotten Johnson, who fought at Lundy's Lane ? 'Tis true, I'm old and pensioned, but I want to fight again.”
" Have I forgotten?" said the Chief: “My brave old soldier, no! And here's the hand I gave you then, and let it tell you so; But you have done your share, my friend ; you're crippled, old,
And we have need of younger arms and fresher blood to-day.”