"I suppose you remember Lucy's mother, Major? Her name was Sahra Turner; she was a good woman but powerful curious. She had married off all of her girls but Mary Ellen, and Tip Jennings was paying court to her. It seems that Sahra had kept close track of the courtship and the headway of all her girls, and one night when Tip was in the parlor with Mary Ellen, Sahra had a small kitchen table set by the parlor door and was standing on it, looking over the transom to see how Tip was coming on. Tip had gotten down on his knees and was making his declaration to Mary Ellen. They were somewhat out of Sahra's range of vision. The crucial moment had come, and Sahra leaned over to see the climax, but she leaned too far, and one of the table-legs broke. Well, they got her up with two ribs broke and laid up in bed for a long spell. Tip never came back, and Mary Ellen married some fellow, who took her out to Kansas." They sat long at the table, the Major rising again into the spirit of old days, Shawn laughing at the quaint jokes and stories. Lallite's sweet laughter rang out, bringing the glow into the Major's eyes. She had heard the stories so often, but they never grew dull with the years, and they seemed to mellow as beautifully as did the sunset of the Major's life. Shawn listened again as he sat by the blazing fire to tales of the war--of charges, victories and defeats. Above the piano hung the Major's sword, presented to him by his soldiers after the battle of Stone River. "Major," said Doctor Hissong, "I want to hear some music before we retire." "What do you say, Lally?" said the Major. Lallite went to the piano and gently touched the yellow keys. Major LeCroix drew forth his beloved clarionet. As he took the instrument from its case, he said, "I'm getting rusty nowadays, but Lally keeps me from getting entirely out of tune. We'll try 'Sounds From Home'." Lallite played the introduction and the Major joined in, the clarionet breathing forth a deep rich melody. The Major seemed to throw his very soul into the music, and Lallite followed him with a tender accompaniment. The blaze from the fireplace flickered and threw changing shadows over the old room. The Major and his daughter played on. They were living again in the past, and the strains were bringing memories sacred and sweet. Shawn sat as one transported to a heavenly sphere, his eyes fixed on the delicately graceful figure swaying to and fro under the changing cadences of the melody. It was the sweetest music that had ever floated into the portals of Shawn's heart, awakening a thrill of tenderness and love.