save as now and
then a breath of the awakening south wind stirs the faded memories of
last autumn's glories where the dried leaves cluster among the thickets
or in the fence corners.

The Thorn carriage occupied by Jean and the coachman, James, was rolling
along a stretch of suburban road.

Jean had just left the home of the Crowleys', and sat in a reverie of
sympathy and indignation. Personally she felt that she was absolutely
safe from any harm from the traffic in misery and death; but this very
fact made her more pitiful and more determined to use what influence and
power she could command against it. The carriage slowed up a bit where
the road divided.

"Which way, Miss Jean?"

"To the army post, James," and she continued her brown study, seeming to
notice nothing of the landscape until they entered the massive iron
gates of the reservation.

Just inside the gates, on either side, heavy cannons were grouped in
triangular fashion and surmounted with cones of cannon balls. At regular
intervals black sign-boards, bright with gilt lettering, gave notice
that just so far and no farther, and just so fast and no faster, the
public might travel in this well-arranged institution of the government.

The drive around the inclosure was a long one, and when the Thorn
carriage had reached the side farthest removed from the buildings, a
sudden jar and crash startled Jean, and suddenly she found herself lying
on the roadside.

Fortunately she was not hurt, and after she had brushed the dust from
her eyes and pinned a rent in her skirt she found that only a slight
break in the carriage had caused the accident. So after tying the horses
to a hitching post at some distance, James pushed the carriage to one
side, and with the broken part started to a blacksmith shop at no great
distance outside the post, Jean agreeing to wait for him, unless he
should be gone too long.

After James had disappeared behind the trees, Jean seated herself
comfortably on a bench near by, and with her head resting against a
majestic oak, gazed upward at the soft spring sky showing through the
brown network of the branches. A bird a great way off circled against
the floating clouds for a time and disappeared.

At one end of the inclosure the drill ground, checkered and bare, could
be seen. Through the trees the red brick walls of the houses in the
officers' quarters showed, while, looking in another direction, she
could see a number of stone buil