The Portland daily press., 1864-06-11

had renamed upon the track, ana lts occupants
were able to afford relief to the sufferers. Ny
friend, who was skilful surgeon, remained
with us barely long enough to be assured that
we had no need of his assistance, and then has
tened away to those who required his aid
could not sit quiet. l felt that must do some
thing or should go mad. rose, and with the
child still closely following, hastened after him.
The first person met was rough young man
who had annoyed me all that afternoon by his
boisterous profanity and rudeness. The blood
was trickling from an ugly wound upon his
forehead, but he did not seem to mind it. He
came toward me as | approached and with O
men OF reyerent sympathy, and an almost
womanly gentleness Of touch, deposited in my
arms the burden he had carried in his own. II
was a pretty infant, not many months old
dressed with such tender care in soft laces and
fannels. but dead, quite dead! As he bent over
saw n tear drop from that rough cheek upon
the little marble face. Perhaps, upon the recor-
ding angels book, that tear may have blotted
out some one of the many oaths his careless
lips had tina, day uttered. And, indeed, | do
believe that the many acts of courage and kind
ness. the tireless efforts to relieve and save,
which saw in him that night, will by the mer-
ciful judge Of all our hearts, be allowed in some
sort to counterbalance such errors as Ignorance
and rough training may have engendered.
We wrapped the poor dead baby in its little
cloak, and laid it in place of safety, and then
turned to minister to the wants of the living.
My first anxiety was to learn the fate of the SOL
dier's widow. With the aid Of the young man,
Isucceeded in finding among the ruins, the car
in which we had been seated. With incredible
the mass of rubbish, and at length we deserted,
under the confused heap of broken seats, the
form we sought. II was not for long time,
and then with the active assistance of D,
who seeing our efforts came to aid them with his
own. that we succeeded in removing the OBJ
structions and uncoyering the remains. My
friend glanced at the child and then at me with
a look which said, take her way" But l
could not obey him. She stood by us so still
and calm, though pale as the very dead, that
her look awed me; and Icould not treat her as
child. When the poor crushed form was at
length drawn out and laid upon the bank, she
knelt beside it, aud wiped the blood and dust
from the lifeless face, and smoothed the disor
dered dress, clasping in hers the cold hand which
never again would offer her its fond caress, but
not tear escaped her, nor a cry.
By this time, intelligence Of the accident had
been conveyed to the nearest town, and carria-
ges and litters began to arrive. Our rough
friend took possession of wagon, and remov-
ing the seat, we soon had the dead bodies Of the
poor woman and of the infant laid in it. When
all was ready, I took the hand of the little girl
and offered to lead her away. But she resisted
ard held back, drawing her hand from mine,
and looking up into my face with q wistful sad
ness which brought sob into my throat.
my dear child" said, "we'rc going with
mamma. Will you not go with us,''
Still she did not stir, but | saw her lip quiyer,
and the great tears gather under her eyelies.
''what is it, darlng?'' asked, STOPPING down
and draying her to my arms. Then her griei
burst forth uncontroJlably. "Papa papa %
she sobbed, clasping her small hands in an ag-
ony Of entreaty.
We had forgotten him the soldier in his
coffin. In that dreadful time, it would have
been strange, perhaps, If we had not, but his
child did not forget
Briefly explained the case to my two CON-
panions, and they undertook to see what could
be done. 1t was no easy task, from out the
fragments Ct the baggage car to obtain what
they sought, but perseverance accomplishes
much, and their efforts were at last successful
The object Of their search was discovered, un-
broken. and placed in the same vehicle which
contained the remains of the widow. the coffined
and uncofined side by side, the two who had
loved so well in life united now in DEATH The
little girl now unresistingly suffered D. to
lift her in his arms, and slowly our sad process
sion took up its way to the town.
My memory sickens to recall the scenes of the
next three days. The succession of ghastly OBJ
jects which were borne past our windows. the
dead house with its fearfsl array. where we went
more than once to aid in identifying the poor
remains from which almost the semblance Of
humanity had departed, the grief of parents be-
reft Of children, and Of children orphaned at a
stroke, the husband mourning for the bride new
welded, and sisters broken hearted for the
brother who was their pride-they haunt me in
my dreams even now. The dead baby had been
consigned to the arms of its mother, but the
little girl remsined at the hotel with us. She
was so quiet, so patient m her grief that some
times half believed that the wound had not
struck so deeply, and that the natural buoyancy
Of childhood was already softening the blow;
but still the pale cheek, hollow eyes. and listless
step forbade me to fatter myself
One morning, it was that of the day appoin-
ted for the burial of her parents, had gone
down early into the ladies' parlor. But few
persons occupied il at that hour. Only two
young girls sat on a sofa, chatting Of dress and
watering place delights, and D. was loung-
ing near the window with the paper. In cor
ner of the room, partly screened by a curtain
which fell over her, sat the soldiers orphan.
She was busily occupied with something bu,
what it was l did not observe until D.
touched me on the arm, and, by glance, di-
rected my attention to it. She had removed the
bright blue ribbons from her little straw hat,
and from an old black silk apron which had been
her mothers she was cutting strips to make q
trimming which should have the hue OF mourn
ing. Her slender fingers moved languidly with
their pious task, and great drops were falling
slowly from beneath her dropping eyelids.
D put his purse into my hand, and left
the room without speaking. Perhaps he wished
to hide the tears of which his own eyes were full
but do not think they were a stain upon hi.
manhood.
When, that day, we placed the bereaved child
between us ia the solitary coach which was tc
follow her dead to their last resting place, she
was clad in the garb appropriate to the mourn.
er. . e9
Immediately on my return to New England,
made IT my business to seek out the parents Of
the poor young wife, and relate to them the
story have told here. The news of their daugh.
ter's fate had already reached them through the
public prints, and | found them weighed dowr
with grief for the death of one who in her lift
they had Il Gated with harshness falt zoo lat,