North Branch democrat. [volume] (Tunkhannock, Pa.) 1854-1867, 1862-09-10

last sheet and sat back with folded hands
to think. lie could not tell why, but do
what and go where he would, the face of the
young volunteer, with whom he haG spoken
last, haunted him. He arose to move to the
window where the breeze was cooler, when
knock was heard at the door, and rapid
voice called "Chaplain 2" He hurried to
lift the latch. The surgeon stood there,
looking like a shadow in the dim moonlight
that crept into the passage.
"Chaplan, sorry to disturb you, and more
sorry still to give you an unpleasant duty to
perform"
"Why, what is 2" was the quick rejoin-
der.
1.-THE fine young fellow whom you talked
with is going"
" What, you do not mean"
Wont live an hour, or two at the most.
| tried to tell him; but l couldn't; and f.
nally l thought ofyou. You can ease it, you
know"
A great shadow fell on the chaplain for a
voice grew husky as he made reply.
SIT is sad errand, but none the less my
duty. Poor fellow can't realize it, in
deed | cannot. His voice was so strong his
manner so natural I'll be there presently"
And left alone, he threw himself upon his
knees to wrestle for strength in prayer.
The atmosphere was filled with low sighs
from the struggles with pain and disease
Going softly up to the couch at which he
had stood before, the chaplain gazed upon
the face before him. 1t looked as calm as
that of a sleeping infant, but he did not sleep.
Hearing slight noise, his eyes flew open,
and rested in some surprise upon the chap
lain.
81 felt as if must see you again before I
retired" said the latter, striving to steady
his voice. How do you feel now?"
ooh, better, thank you; in fact almost
well. The pain is gone, and l feel quite hope
full. rather think the surgeon does, though
he said nothing"
Again that fearful swelling in the chap
lain's throat. How should he tell him of his
danger-how prepare the mind so calmly
resting on almost a certainty-the poor hope
ful soul that would never look with earthly
eyes on the mother he so longed for ? An
other moment, and the young man appeared
to be struck with some popularity at the
face or movements of the chaplain. The
large eyes sought his with an intenseness
that was pain, and he to interpret that which
made the difference between this and his
forner demeanor.
Your cares weary you, chaplain" he
said quietly; "you must be very faithful, for
it is past midnight"
II was on the point Of going to bed, when
was called to prepare dying man for his
last hour" was the fearful response.
Indeed What poor fellow goes nextH'
rejoined the young man with look of mourn
ful inquiry.
There was no answer; for the wealth of
the world the chaplain could not have spok-
en- now. That tone so unconscious of dam
ger, that eye so full of sympathy! Still
strange silence What did it mean? The
sick mans inquiring glance changed for
moment to one of intense terror. He raised
both arms-let them fall heavily upon the
coverlet at his SIDE, and in voice totally al
tered by emotion, he gasped-
Great heaven you mean me-"
"My dear friend" said the chaplain un-
manned.
" 1 am to die, then-and-how long ?"-
His eyes once more sought that of the chap
lain.
"You have made your peace with God,
let death come as soon as it will, he will call
you over the river"
"Yes; but this is awfully sudden awful
ly sudden ~ his lips quivered he looked
grievously and I shall not see my mother"
"Christ is better than mother,,' murmur-
ed the chaplain.
eyes" The word came in whisper.
His eyes were closed the lips still wore that
grief, as if the chastisement were
too sore, too hard to be borne but as the
minutes passed, and the soul lifted itself up
stronger and steadily upon the wings of pray
sr, the countenance grew calmer, the lips
steadier, and when the eyes opened again,
there was light in their depths that could
have come only from Heaven.
I" 1 thank you for your courage" he said,
more feebly, taking the hand of the chaplain.
6 The bitterness is over now, and feel willSl
ng to die. Tell my mother"-he paused, |
,ave one sob, dry, and full of the last anguish
If earth" tell her how longed to see her. |
put if God will permit me will be near her,
Fell her to comfort all who loved me, to say |
hat / thought of them all. Tell my father
am glad he gave me his consent, and |
hat other fathers will mourn for other sons |
FELL my minister, by word or by letter, that