Lewisburg chronicle. [volume] (Lewisburg, Pa.) 1850-1859, 1853-05-13
LEWISBURG, UNION COUNTY, PENN FRIDAY, MAY 49, 1853

and nanya poor fellow, who had contrive
, to hide bis last skin of wine from his en-
! mics, was obliged to abandon it to h
allies. You might see the poor natives 0
all sides running away some with mo-
sci of food, others with skin of wine i
their arms, and followed by the menace
and staggering steps Of the weary an
half-drunken soldiers.
"Wine wine " was the cry in ever
part Of the village.
"Wine I ask for wine y said I, to
poor halfstarved, and ragged native, VIII
was stealing off, and hiding somethin,
under his torn cloak "wine !! you beggar
ly scoundrel give me wine " said 1.
81 have no wine," he cried. as he brok'
from my grasp, and ran quickly and fear
fully away.
"I was not very drunk-I had not had
above half my quantity-and l pursued
him up street. But be was the fleetcr
and should have lost him, had l no,
made a sudden turn, and come right upon
him. in forsaken alley, where 1 supposed
the poor thing dwelt. seized him by
the collae lie was small and spare, and
he trembled under my grippe; but still he
held his own, and only wrapped his cloak
the closer round bis property.
"Wine ask for wine !" said I; " give
me wine!'
"My child! I have only my child" he
repeated.
~ had already drawn my bayonet.
am ashamed, sir, to say, that we used to
do that to terrify the poor wretches, and
make them the sooner give up their liquor.
As I held him by the collar with one
hand, I pointed the bayonet at his breast
with the other, and again cried, "Wine ="
"l have no winc-you know I have no
winc;" and he spoke the words with such
a look Of earnestncss, that, had l not fam
cied l could trace through the folds of his
cloak the very shape Of a small wine-skin,
l should have believed him.
"Lying rascal "' said I, ESQ you won't
give me the liquor? Then the dry earth
shall drink it !" and struck the point of
my bayonet deep into that which he was
still hugging to-his breast.
ooh, sir !! it was not wine that tricklcd
was blood, warm blood and a
pitcous vail went like . chill across my
heart The poor Spaniard opened his
cloak he pointed to his wounded child;
and his wild eye asked N. palmer chan
words could have done, /" Monster are
you satis6ed" !"
~ was sobered in . moment. I fell
upon my knees beside the infant, and
tried to staunch the blood. Yes, the poor
fellow understood the truth he saw and
he accepted my anguish and We joined in
,ur efforts to save the little victim. o, it
was too late.
"The little boy had fastened his small
:lammy hands round a finger of each of
ls. He looked at us, alternately, and
seemed to ask, alike from his father and
lis murderer, that help which it was be-
,ond the power Of one of earth to give.
The changes in the poor child's counten-
lnce showed that it had few minutes to
i've. Sometimes it lay still, I thought the
asst pang was over, when a slight convul-
ion would agitate its frame, and a mo-
neutary pressure of its little hands would
give the gasping father short vain ray Of
nope.
"You may believe, sir, that an old SOL
lier, who has only been able to keep his
,wn life at the expense Of an eye and two
# his limbs-who has fingered out many
lay in camp hospital after hot engage
have learned to look on death
Without any unnecessary concern. I have
omctimes wished for it myself; and often
lave felt thankful when my poor, wounded
have been released by it from
,ains have seen it, too, in other shapes,
have seen the death blow dealt, when the
fleets have been so instant that the brave
'eart's blood has been split, and the pulses
ave ceased to beat, while the streak of
ife and health was still fresh upon the
smile has remained upon
he lips Of my brothcr-soldier, even after
.e had fallen . corpse across my path.
But, O, sir what is all this compared with
That suffered as I watched life ebb slow
y from the wound which I mad myself so
inflicted in the breast of a help
css, innocent child! 1t was my mistake
by accident. o, yes; know it we'll
nd day and night I have striven to forget
hat hour. But it is of no use; that pite-
us wall is ever in my ear! That fathers
gony will follow me to the graveP'
From the Cleveland Plandealer.
Little Great Men In Washington.