Litchfield enquirer., 1862-09-25

if you git a bead on one, he'll enter his land mighty shortly. What do you say to goin 7 1o' wanted to go last year, but mother was sick an
 ou couldn'; an now mothers gone to glory why, show your grit an go. Think about 1t any howl .....
 And Hopeful did think about it-thought till late at night of the insulted flag, of the fierce fights and glorious victories, of the dead and the dying lying out in the pitiless storm, of the das' tardly outrages of rebel ends-thought of all this with his great warm heart overaowng with love for the dear old Ranger" and resolved to go. The next morning he notified the "boss" of his in tention ts quit his service for that of Uncle sam The old fellow only opened his eyes very wide, gruuted, brought out the stocking, Ia spriped relic of the departed Frau Kordwansr,) and from it counted out and paid Hopeful every cent that was due him.. But there was one thing that sat heavily upon Hopeful's mind. He was in a predicament that all of us are liable to fall into he was in love, and with Christina, Herr Kordwaners daughter. Christina was plump maiden, with round, rosy face, an extensive latitude of shoulders, and general plenltude and solidity of figure. All these she had; but what had captivated Hopeful's eye was her trim ancle, as it appeared to him one morning, en- cased in a warm white yarn stocking of her own knitting. From this small beginning, his great heart had taken in the whole of her, and no" he was desperately in love. Two or three times he had essayed to tell her of his proposed de parture but every time that the words were coming to his lips something rushed up into his throat, ahead of them, and he couldn't speak. At last, after walking home from church with her on Sunday evening, he held out his hand and blurted out:
 Well, good-by. We're of tomorrow
 'Ofl Where 2
 I've enlisted
 Christina didn't faint. She didn't take out her delicate and daintily perfumed nsouchosr to hide the tears that were not there. She looked at him for moment, while two great re0t tears rolled down her cheeks, and then-precipltated all her charm. right into his arms. Hopeful stood it manfully-rather liked it in fact But this is tableau that we've no right to be look ing at so let us pass by how they parted with what tears and embraces, and extravagant protestatious of undying affection, and wild promises of eternal remembrance there IS no need of telling, for we all know how foolish young people will be under such circumstances We older heads know all about such little mat ters, and what they amountto to. o, yes, certain ly we do.
 The next morning found Hopeful with doz' en others, in charge of the lieutenant, and on their way to join the regiment. Hopeful's first experience of camp life was not singular one' He, like the rest of us, at first exhibited the most energetic awkwardness in drilling. Like the rest of us, he had occasional attacks oi home sickness and as he stood at his post on picket in the silent night watches, while the camps lay quietly sleeping in the moonlight, his thoughts would go back to his far-away home and the plentiful charms of the fair-haired Christina So he went on, dreaming sweet dreams of home, but ever active and alert, ca ger to learn and earnest to do his duty, silencng all selfish suggestions of his own heart with the simple logic of pure patriotism.
 Hopeful he would say, the Banger's took good care O you all your life, an now you're here to take good care of it. See that you do 1t the best you know how
 It would be more thrilling and interesting, and it would read better. if we could take our hero to glory amid the roar of cannon and mus. ketry, through storm of shot and shell. over serried lius of glistening bayonets. But strict truth-a matter of which newspaper corrcspon' dents, and sensational writers, generally seem to have misty nception-forbids it.
 It was only skirmish-a bush-whacking 6gh' for the possession of a swamp. A few compa nies were deployed as skirmishers to drive ou the rebels.
 Now, boys,' shouted the captain after em Shoot to kill, not to scare 'emF
 sPingt Ping r rang the riaes
 'Z-z z.z-vitI' sang the bullets. On they went, crouching among the bushes creeping along under the banks of the brook cautiously peering from behind trees in searci of butternuts.'
 Hopeful was in the advance; his hat was lost and his hair more ds6anty bristling than ever Firmly grasping his rife he pushed on, careful! watching every tree and bush. A rebel sharp shooter started to run from one tree to another when quick as thought, Hopeful's rife was as hi shoulder, puff of blue smoke rose from it mouth, and the rebel sprapg in the air and fel back-dead. Almost at the same instant, a Hopeful leaned forward to see the efsct ofhis sho he felt g sudden shock, a sharp, burning pain erasped at a bush, reeled, and sank to the ground
 "Are you hurt mucn, Hope 2" asked one ofh comrades, kneeling beside him and staunchin the blood that flowed from his wounded leg. "Yes, expect am but that red wamus owe yonder s redder n ever now. That feller won need pension."
 They carried him back to the hospital, an the old surgeon looked at the woupd, shook hi head, and briefly made bis progpesis. 1 "Bone shattered-Fessel injured--bad leg have to come of, Good constitution, tho h will stand it,"
 l And he did stand it; always chssrfal neve