The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1863-06-23

mutf DIE, bal , cruelty hard ihing 20
Do. sad by 70 means as eomforta-
bic as he POLITELY suggest, d. / had
no, the heart TO do il then, and pri-
vaiely indaleed the hope that some
change for the better might take place,
Il gaie Of gloomy prophrsies. 50 rem
dvrng nv task unnecessary.
a SHORT ASp siMPLK STORY.
Afrr that night, an hour Of each
evening that rem aimed to him was de-
voted TO bis ease or pleasur. He
could moi talk much, for breath was
precious, and he spoke in whispers.
but from occasional conversations !
! gleaned scraps Of private history which
only adled to the aif .clion and re-
sprct rfelt for him. Once he asked
me to write a letter, and as ! settled
pen and paper said, with an ire.
pres.ible glimmer OF female curiosity,
" Shall il be addressed 10 wife or
mother. John 7"
{" Neither ma'am I've got no wife,
and will write to mother myself when
| get better. Did you think was
married because Of this r he asked.
touching plain ring he wore, and Of
ten turned thoughtfully on his finger
when he lay alone.
Partly that, but more from set
tied sort Of look you have--a look
which young men seldom lave until
they marry"
II didn't know that, but I'm not so
very young, ma'am--thirty in May
and have been what you might call
settled this ten years, for mothers a
widow. I'm the Oldest child she has,
AID il wouldn't do for me TO marry till
Lizzy has home of her own, and
Lauries learned his trade for we're
not rich, and ! must be father to The
children, and husband to the dear old
woman, If | can"
No doubt you are both, John, yet
how came you to go to the war if you
felt SO z" Wasn'l cnlisting as hard as
marrying I"
" No ma'am, not as | see il 4; for
one is helping my nrighbor, the other
pleasing myself ! went because /
couldn's help it. didn't want the
glory or the pay, wanted the right
thing done, and people kept saying the
men who were in earnest ought TO
fight. | was in earnest, the Lord
knows, but | held off as long rs |
could, moi knowing which was my du-
ty. Mother saw the case, gave me
her ring 10 keep me steady, and said
go ! so | vent
A short story and simple one, but
the man and he mother were portray
ed better than pages of fine writing
could have done it.
A SOLDIERS PRIDE.
Do you ever regret that you came
when you lie here suffering so much p
"Never. ma'am. | haven't helped
great deal, but I've shown w1s
willing to give my life, and perhaps
I've got TO, but | don't blame any
body, and if il was to do over again,
I'd do it. I'm little sorry wasn't
wounded in front. 1t looks cowardly
/ to be hit in the back, but obeyed or.
ders, and il don't matter in the end,
know"
Poor John it did not matter now,
except that shot in front might have
spared the long agony in store for
him. He seemed TO read the thought
that troubled me. as he spoke so hope.
fully. when there was no hope, for he
suddenly added:
s This is my first baitle--do they
! think it's going TO be my last r
/" I'm afraid they do, John"
Il Was the hardest question | had
ever been called upon to answer ;
doubly hard with those clear eyes
fixed on mine, forcing truthful answer
by their own truth. lie seemed a
little startled AT first, pondered over
/ the fateful act a moment, then shook
his head with glance at the broad
chest and muscular limbs stretched
ont before him.
"Im no' afraid, but its difficult to
believe all al oncr. lin so strong Ii
don't seem p ssible for such a little
wound to kill me-"
THE LAsr LETrER.
" Shall ] write to your mother now r
! a-ked. thinking that these sudden
,hi g nigh, change ali plans and pur-
poses but I, icy did noi cor the man