The Portland daily press., 1862-11-17
MISCELLANY.
FEVER. A FRAGMENT.

~Doctor. lust step in here a moment, will
you2 believe | need little of your care"
aWhat Grahame, are You laid up?-Why,
,twas only this morning saw you in the ranks.
What In the deuce is to pay ?" said the CHEEKY
voice of the surgeon, as he entered the tent OF
the young soldier.
"Nothing alarming, only I've got most
confounded headache; and thought I'd keep
quiet an hour or So"
The surgeon eyed his patient closely ere ne
spoke, He knew the symptoms well-the hush
ed forehead and the parched lips.
"Grahalne,v he said gay, you Just step
round TO the hospital with me, and will make
you comfortable in less than no time. Come;
l will not listen to a REFUSAL.
aDoctor. are you crazy? I'm not sick-shall
be better after an hours sleep. Its deuced hot
here, though"
"Not sick now but you may be if you don't
obey orders" replied the surgeon, gravely.
swell, I'll go just to please you-how my
head does ache--by Jove believe can't see
the way, doctor. just give me your arm"
The Twilight shadows deepened into night,
and the great moon arose. 1t peeped into the
little windows of the hospital, and shone across
the narrow beds. Now it lighted up the faces
of the dying; now it reverently touched the
foreheads OF the dead 1t shone in full glory
on young Grahame as he writhed in the ago
MES of the terrible fever. Now he raved of
his home in the valley; again he heard the
river ripping by, and saw the loved ones there
now he sang wild snatches of song, or called
for some comrade who had passed before him
"unto rest" As the surgeon passed on his
nightly rounds, he fancied it was his mothers
step.
"Take away the blankets, mother-open the
windows-give me air. shall stife here! -
ice! ice !-mother don't you hear me? oh,
this pain! Don't leave me alone. Nellie, sister
Nellie, don't cry. ! told you would come
back again-don't you remember? I'm not
afraid Of the fever.-Good-bye, now; take
good care of mother. One more kiss. Re-
member-I'l come home again If God is will
ling, when this dreadful war is over. Won't
1t be glorious to come back with the victory's
army, Nellie? Oh, how my head aches will
it never stop? Why don't you come to me
mother? am dying with this pain. Hush
/ hear the drums beating-give me my rifle
don't hold me back-victory or death-yes
death"
The kind surgeon wiped away tear as he
turned tn leave. He had administered the
nightly portion, and bathed the levered brow,
Twas little thing, but he could do no more;
for there were dozens awaiting him-yes, doz-
ems Of aching heads to cool-his time was prec-
ious
Seven times the twilight shadows deepened
into night; seven times the great moon arose
and lighted the great hospital. Again the
surgeon passed on his nightly rounds. He
paused as he reached young Grahame's cot.
and his eyes filled with tears. There was a
fearful stiffness all around. No more visions
of the home in the valley no more sounds of
the loved voices no more dreams of victory
The drums will beat the call, but he will not
hear them. Reverently the surgeon raised
the white sheet and gazed on the peaceful face
beneath. The bright moonbeams peeped Gu
riously under the snowy covering and gently
kissed the forehead of the dead. The holy
stars with a mournful twinkle in their bright
eyes, peeped wonderingy in through the mar
row window, and at the same time kept watch
over the home in the valley. The manly limbs
a week ago filled with the vigor of life, are
Strengthened in death. The noblest hest has
ceased its beatings; the pitiless fever has done
its work.
There will be vacant place in the ranks
when the drums call them together; there will
be few tears shed when they miss the fanil-
lar face There will be funeral, and the
farewell salute to the dead trifiing mention
Of his death in the daily news, and that will be
all.
What matters it to the world? only a pri-
vate dead-not much loss--not an officer!
And the eeaseless tide will flow on as before.
Reader, can't you imagine that lone mother
when the dread tidings reach her? Can't you
see the paper drop from her withered hands as
she reads his name? No mistake it is his
name; no use to deceive herself, Tor tits all
there in black and white, a fearful reality
The ripplirg river will have lost its charms
the sunshine its beauty. A darkness falling
over ala dreadful void in her heart that can
never be filled.
Oh, you who have friends aud brothers in
the great army, pray with your whole souls
that the all seeing eye OF the Father shall keep
watch over them and preserve them from evil;
that he will hide them in the cleft OF the Rock
of Ages.