The Richmond palladium. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1855-1875, 1862-04-19
THE DYING SOLDIER.

the eyes were undimmed. and only the po
sition Of his hands, which were throwI
over his head, and locked in almost spas
modic tigh,ncss. told that he was in pain
He was unusually noble in countenance.-
His brow was broad aud fair, and the thicl
locks that clustered back from the temple
curled Ike tho ringlets of boy. He knew
not why, bat the chaplain experienced al
unusual and sudden sympathy for thi
young man, struck down in bis beauty; still
he felt there was no imm .date danger il
his case.
"How is he woundcd?" he asked of th
Surgeon. as the two approached the boo
softly.
"Iu the right side. below the ribs" va
the reply.
''Is he 10 danger?"
80. no; that is. no. at present. The cas-,
may take bad turo. to be sure; but il
looks very we'll now" "Charlcs." he add
ed. addressing the sick man Familiarity, "tht
chaplain is going the rounds; would you like
% sec him ?"
20, certainly exclaimed the young man
smiling 81 am very glad TO see him." and
he held out hi, hand. His voice was strong
and ringing. as with the highest health; his
clasp was vigorous.
II am sorry to find you wounded, my
friend" said the chaplain
"Oh. only the casualty OF war; we must
some Of Us expect il you know"
'Do you suffer much?"
"At times. sir very severely; l feel so
we'll, only the distress here" and he pressed
his hand to his side.
"You will be up soon. hope"
Il trust SO. sir; the doctors say it is bad
wound. but will yield with care. l only
wish had my mother here. She has heard
OF il, and. doubtless, started before this. 1t
will seem so comfortable to see her; you
don't know how long for her.
All mother. you are first thought Of
when the hardy soldier feels the psng Of
pain. IL is your name he calls your form
he sees through the mists OF delirium, your
voice he hears in every gentle word that is
spoken. He knows whose touch will be
tenderest. through the sympathy Of suffer
ing. he knows who has borne the most for
him; and on the tented field the holy name
Of mother receives fresh baptism Of love
and beauty.
Il can imagine how you feel" said the
chaplain, "and have no doubt you will see
her soon. Meanwhile. you know there is
. Friond who will be TO you more than
mother or brother"
IL realize that. SIR" said the young man;
II am professor of religion, and have been
for years. When l was shot, and ay. and
before. commended my soul to Him for
1ifc or death; but confess have much to
live for. am not brought yet where am
perfectly willing to die"
at may be for the reason that you are not !
yet called to de-" replied the chaplain; "but
in life, you know. it is the one important
thing to be prepared for death."
After q short prayer. the minister and the
sick man parted" "He seems very strong
and sanguine." he said. as he met the sur
geon. again. 'and likely to recover"
"No doubt Of it. sir, no doubt" was the
hasty reply OF tho surgeon, as he passed on.
The hour OF midnight had struck from
the great hall. Slowly and solcmnly it
knelled the departing moments. and its echo
rolled through the halls, vibrating on many
an car that would never hear the sound OF
the striking hours again. The chaplain still
sat up in his own room writing letters for
three or four Of the wounded soldiers. and a
strange stiffness fell around him, as be clos
cd tho last sheet, and sat back with folded
arms to think. He could not tell why, but
do what and go where he would. the face
last spoken, haunted him. He arose to re
move to the window where the breeze was
cooler, whom knock was heard at the door, |
and rapid voice called chaplain 7" He
hurried to life the latch. The surgeon
stood there. looking like a shadow in the
dim moonlight that crept into the passage.
"Chaplain, sorry to disturb you, but more
sorry still to give you an unpleasant duty to
perform"
"Why. wha. is it - was the quick re
joinder.
1.-The fine young fellow whom you talked
with is going"
"What, you do not mean'-
won't live an hour, or two at the most.
tried to tell him. but couldn't; and fin
ally thought of you. You can ease it,
you know"
A great shadow fell on the chaplain; for
a moment he was stunned and choked, and
his voice grew husky rs he made reply.
"t is a ssd errand, but none the less my
dut,. Poor fellow can't realize 1t, in
need cannot. His voice was SO strong
his manner so natural I'll be there pres.
entity" And left alone. he threw himself
upon his knees to wrcstle for strength in
prayer.
The atmosphere was filled with low sishs
from the strugglers with pain and disease.
Going softly mp 20 tho couch at which he
had stood before. the chaplain gazed upon
the face before him. 1t looked ns calm as
tha. Of sleeping infant. bu, no did no.
sleep. Hearing slight noise. his eyes
flew open and rested in some surprise upon
the chaplain.
81 felt as il must see you again before I
RETIRED" said the latter. striving to steady
his voice. "How do you feel nows'
'Oh, better. thank you: in fact. almost
we'll The pain is gone, and feel quite
hopeful I 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 calm
" resting on almost certainty-the poor
hopeful soul that would never look with
earthly eyes on the mother he 50 longed
for? Another moment, and the young man
.cca,rad IN h. sfruck with some DeculiaYi.