The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1862-05-09

get.
1t was four o'clock before 1 got away
again, md then was really tired. So days
merged into weeks, and it became regular
routine. From eight till ten or eleven, and
from half past one till four, took pleasure
amongst them, even while pain stirred my
heart to see their sufferings. One by one
| could see them fading. They had offered
their lives to oul country, and she accepted
the sacrifice.
Poor little Frank B. daily grew
weaker Nothing could tempt him to eat,
and bis cough grew worse, while his face
became thin and pale. He never lost bis
joyous spirit, but always seemed hopeful,
even when too i'll to rise from bis couch
One afternoon was startled on entering,
by the most piteous cries. and found that
they came from my little favorite, generally
so brave and patient.
"Why, frankie, what is the matter Z"
asked bending over him.
"Oh, you have come did wish for you
so much. Oh, shall die, and wanted
somebody by who seemed to care for me
little. You do like me, don't you, dear
Mrs. s.? You've been so kind to me.
Oh, this pain ! can't stand it long,"
His hands grasped mine nervously, and
every fibre OF his frame quivered with pain.
l saw that the dews of death were standing
thickly already, on the broad, beautiful
forehead over which the fair hair clustered
so prettiIy, and my eyes filled with tears of
sorrow deeper than words could express. 1
stopped to kiss him, and glad cry escaped
the poor blue lips of the dying boy.
"Oh, kiss me again, won't you? This
is like my sister. Do kiss me once more
l feel better. Oh, woudn t mind to die
il my sisters were here to tell me they low
ed me. You do love me little, don't
you?"
"Yes, great deal, frankie; as much
as If were your sister. Don't you think
so? I'm sure you're good boy, and am
sorry to see you suffer so."
He drew me toward him, ard pressed bis
face close to my arms. could endure no
more. The poor boys mute appeal for ten.
derness and sympathy in his dying hour, far
from home, breathing out his young life
amid strangers, unnerved me. drew that
young, bright head to my bosom, and my
tears fell fast upon its sunny curls.
Did the gentle sisters he loved have one
thought of the scene that was transpiring
on that night, while, perchance, they sat
and talked of him, their only and petted
brother, in their far off home in Nebraska?
You will stay with me to night, won't
your" be pleaded again. "Oh! you won't
leave me to die alone 2"
"No, frankie, I'll stay with you"
He was comfOrted, and became more qui.
ct as l clasped his hands and tried to soothe
him. Gradually purple hue overspread
his face. Now his lips became whittier, and
tue large clear eyes grew restless. When
he could no longer speak, those eyes plead
for some tokens OF endearment, and
each time that l pressed kiss upon his
forehead, look of deep and ernest graft
tude soItened the suffering expression of bis
face
About nine O'Clock he breathed his last,
and now every time look at my hand and
see the little ring of mine he wore before he
died, seem to see the parting look OF his
great, sad eyes ere they fixed in death.
How sad the task to brush back the damp
locks from the cold brow, and compose the
blue limbs in their last repOse. That night
wept and prayed for the sisters as l had
never wept and prayei for myself, for he
was all they had.
A few days after this, aEother of my pa
tients, one who was fast recovering,
thought, had a relapse and was again cons
fined to his berth. There had been storm
that dashed in the windows, aud he got
wet.
On Friday, be asked me to write some
letters to his brother, sister, and his be
trothed. l did so while be dictated. He
appeared to be we'll educated, and had a
rich vein of mirth and sentiment pervading
his dictations, and was much interested.
He showed me the miniatures of his friends,
and talked of soon returning home bade
me say to his sister, that be was coming
soon. Ii be couldn't get a furlough, he
would make one, &c.
Saturday found me almost blind from in.
tammation of the eyes, and did not get to
the hospital again until Monday morning.
Sad faces greeted me. Matron, physicians
and nurses, wore serious faces, the StewI
ard quietly placed letters, miniatures and
description roll in my hands. I looked to.
ward Freds place-it was vacant
Oh, that was sad task that had then
to perform To sit down, three days after
writing those pleasant, hopeful letters, and
tell them that the heart which dictated
them was still foreverl Iwrote to the lacy
he would have made his wife, and returned
her letters. I had rather have performed
any other task on earth. The poor old ia.
ther and mother, whose bent forms were
fast tottering to the grave-the bright,
sweet>faced sister-the loving brother To
all these must convey tidings that would
sting the hardest heart. Yet such is the
fortune of war
These are but few of the many in