Newport High School - Blunita Yearbook (Newport, PA)

Page 8 text:

6 THE BLUE AND WHITE “1 cannot bear It! I cannot bear itr” be moaned, “that the rain and storm shall beat on her grave.’’ At these times they carefully watched him, afraid he might do himself some bodily harm. Lincoln himself, has said, “even though I seem to others to he enjoying life rapturously, yet when I am alone, I am so much overcome by mental depression that at times I dare not carry even my pocket knife.” There were weeks before he recovered his mental balance. All through his life on stormy days, he was given to moods of sadness. And on these occasions, he would repeat verses to himself on the poem on “Mortality,” closing with the lines, “O, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?” 'It was a fact that this little country girl was the object of his life long devotion. Though Ann Rutledge undoubtedly loved Lincoln, her first love had been given to another man. There were those among the neighbors who thought she sometimes looked wistfully towards the east. Two months after her death a white prairie schooner wound its way slowly into town. The driver on the front seat was McNeil or McNamor. With him were his mother, brother and sisters. His story was strictly true. He had taken ill on his way back east. His father died soon after he arrived there. Then too, the long journey over land and delayed him There had been letters which never arrived. When he heard of Ann’s death he wept wi th Linoln. In Lincoln’s life there was one woman he loved, one he tried to love and one he married. Wherever Abraham Lincoln wrought and worked and achieved, he was always accompanied by the memory of an old love. She was ■the dream woman who walked always by his side, never yielding her iplace in his heart to any living rival. From his rail splitting days in Illinois, even 'to the watches of his White House vigil, she was with him. In the spirit world she waited, biding her time until he went to her. Her grave at New Salem, Illinois, is marked by a rough stone, on which is carved “Ann Rutledge.” DAN CUPID, EVER BUSY “Mother, Aunt Dell is sitting in there at the front window and she looks so sad and doesn’t answer me when I talk to her! cried Nancy, as she burst into the kitchen where her mother was baking a cake. “She has a letter of some kind, but I don’t know what it is.”

Page 7 text:

THE BLUE AND WHITE 5 him grammar. Slowly but surely there came to the blue eyes a happier light. Soon Lincoln was accompanying her to the dances and quilting It was in May when he came back from Vandalia, where he had represented Sangamon county in the legislature that Ann’s eager welcome gave him courage. They had gone together to a quilting party. While the rest of the company were chatting, he drew a chair over to her side and told her softly in an undertone that he loved her. Her head bent low over the bed quilt, and her nervous needle made uneven stitches. “But I'm promised; .promised still to him, you know,” she replied. “Him! He’s forfeited all right,” protested the wooer at her side. “Anyhow you no longer love him.” Ann Rutledge wrote one last letter, breaking her engagement When time had passed and no reply came, she plighted her troth to Abraham Lincoln. This was ju»t before he started to Springfield to study law. They planned to be married when his studies should be completed. “Then, sweetheart,” he said, “nothing on God’s foot-stool shall keep u« apart.” Through that summer he often came from Springfield. Then he and Ann would walk aiong the banks of the river. He wove garlands of wild flowers for her hair and carved her name with his on all the trees. The old residents of Sangamon county say, “We have seen the names. Only yesterday did the bark grow over them.” Lincoln came back to spend with Ann her birthday on July fifteenth. Soon after he went back to Springfield, she became 111 from a fever. One day in August a messenger came in great haate to Spring field to tell him that Ann was very ill. He jumped on a horse and rode all night to reach her. Breathless and mud-spattered he strode into the sick room and dropped on his knees by her bed. All the rest went out and left them alone with their love. He came from the room with hie face lined with the agony that lined ever after. On August twenty-fifth, 1835, Ann died. “My heart is buried there,” he sobbed, when they lowered her Into the grave at Concord cemetery. He would neither eat nor sleep. Sometimes he roamed over the hills and through the woods. Sometimes he sat for hours with his head bowed in grief, the tears trickling through his hands. When it rained his sorrow was wildest.

Page 9 text:

THE BLUE AND WHITE 7 When Della's mother died, James Grayson and his wife had extended a cordial invitation to Della to live with them. Any other time she would have refused, but overcome with grief, she was ffUd to seek refuge from the haunting memories of the old home. Mabel Grayson, thoroughly frightened by her daughter’s report, hurried to learn the cause. “Della! What is • • tell me did Grandma d—d—Oh, I can’t believe it!” Della, aroused from her reverie by her sister’s hasty entrance, Interrupted. “There is nothing the matter, I just received a val • • • why. Mart), you left that butter drop off your knife on that new cushion! Quick, take it off! It will leave a grease spot!” Mrs. Grayson, in her excitement, had carried some butter, intended for the cake, into the room with her, and had nervously twisted the knife about in her hands until the butter dropped off. What shall I do? It won’t come out! Jim’s aunt Agnes gave me that cushion only last week and she is coming to visit us either today or tomorrow. It is ruined—oh dear! Why must I be so terribly awkward? Well, I suppose we must just leave it alone. Maybe when It is dry, it will not be so noticeable.” They looked gloomily at the buttered victim. Then Mrs. Grayson 'turned her thoughts elsewhere. “But your letter, Dell? You didn’t tell me. Why were you so sad?’’ T was only thinking and dreaming. I got a valentine from Bob. To-morrow is St. Valentine’s Day, you know. It is the flrfrt message I have had from him since that silly quarrel a year ago. I wonder why he choose this time of the year to renew friendship and recall old memories.’’ After a few moments she added, “Oh, why did we quarrel anyway-” “Well, that is the way it goes when folks are young and foolish and don’t know their own minds,” Mabel said, and left the room glancing ruefully at the havoc the butter had wrought Several minutes later the doorbell rang. It’s Aunt Agnes, I know.” Whispered Mabel. “There Is a taxi and she always comes in one. It never rains but it tpours. Hide the cushion some place— quick!” Dell kicked the cushion under the sofa and went to the door. A fall, broad-shouldered young man stood there. “Hello, Dell! I come east on business and—” “Bob! I didn’t recognize you! Come in.’’