Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1866-02-22
nrn he hothered n I'm not tired of

In his pockets, anu SuolItl on IoNAluS !
the tent of one Of the surgeons, whom
he found conversing with the Colonel
upon the same subject,
al cannot say Colonel that these
men arc not night blind and Yet l think
it doubtful about the most o, them
OF YOU would not think II over.pre-
sumiug in me-" said Paradise, who IN.
derstand all the medicine that's in the .
books, | know certain sure cure for |
night-blindness, /
You said the surgeon cycling him .
closely.
yes, sir If you would make every |
one OF these fellows eat quarter OF u |
pound Of raw beet's liver every morn |
ing, it would cure every one of them In
a weeks time
The surgeon smiled as If he thought
Paradise afflicted with something worse
than night
TRY il, Doctor said the Colonel
with a knowing look. The Colonel was
somewhat acquainted with Paradise.
The next morning the surgeon sum
moned all his patients afflicted with
night. blindness, TO the number OF forty
telling them he had found most GER
tain remedy, and prescribed TO each one
a quarter of pound Of raw beef 5 liv-
err. Each was obliged To take the dose
In the presence of the surgeon. There
were good many wry faces, but so mi
raculous was the effect that three or
four acknowledged the corn and were
cured with a mOuthful or two.
The next morning the number OF pa
tients was reduced TO twenty. The
third morning there were only four or
five who were not cured. The fourth
morning there was but one patient left.
His case seemed an obstinate one. | DO
not know but he may be chewing raw
: liver to this day.
. CHAPTER FlPTa.
Glorious times are those around the
e camp fires at night, Merry yarns, jokes
| and laughter-the wine ol life howS
freely. These camp fire tales are the on
} ly ones that can interest Us As did OF
7 yore the legends Of our grandmothers,
[ when bedtime came too early because
= we wanted to hear just one more.
Paradise on this night had H..r,,ped to
heap up the blazjug logs. During the
s day there had been a little excitement
$ in camp. A body of rebel cavalry had
t dashed H. A lively little engagement
{ ensne3, resulting in their precipitate re
. treat. The circumstance was mentioned
n in the papers at the time-"ioSS very
e slight, except to the wife whose hus
band fell: the mother who mournei hl
o son. "Only few kill 81 vat .on
/ hearts broken :.ome lives ailed witt
$ grief
G And the group around the camp fin
o was as merry as the night before.
d cOmrade or two was missing. That WA.
e all
s Paradise called out Jim Harris
o "didn't | see you taking a pleasure ride
y with old lady Langley to-day ?"
An expressive shout followed tht
n mention of the widow Langley's pleas
!, ure-riding; for the poor woman's mult
5 having recently died from old age, she
a had pressed her only milch COW into
o equestrian service, which the soldiers
declared she had Broken 10 a reghlsl
If canter.
s 1t was no uncommon thing 10 the
l. South during the war, when the horses
y and mules had all been pressed by the
: Confederate government, to see mich
/, cows in the pillow, or with some one
: mounted going to the mill. don't see
J, anything so very ontys In this. 1t might
4 look little funny to some TO see one
h riding horseback on COW.
e Paradise had to wait for the laugh to
e be over before he could explain
. "fOu see" he said, we BOYS were
e coming back from the pursuit when the
I old lady charged down on US, screaming
} with all her might for Mister Sheridan.
. She said his critter company had formed
line of battle in her yard and knocked
! down her lye-leach and he must settle
, for 1t. She stuck to me as tight as a
burr till | pointed out the General to
her heard him tell one Of the staff to
? pay the old woman for all the damage
, she had sustained from his "critter com.
, pany."
She yelled back to me as she Cantered
of, to tell me there was wounded fel-
J low In her yard that had better come
and attend to.
L found poor Willie Hoyle up there
stretched out In the hot sun, nearly
breathing his last. picked him I'D as
carefully as | could and carried him into
the house. The old woman iawed and
scolded all the time aud said that she
wouldn't have the blamed Yankee in her
house, Poor Willie didn't live but a few
minutes. told the old woman to let
him stay there until | came back with
some one to help me bury him. She
swore she wouldn't; but didn't think
she was really so hard hearted. But
when | came back | met the old bag,
with rope around poor Wllie's neck,
dragging him off to the woods"
Paradise brushed the tears from bis
eyes. at would well nigh kill his poor
mother, if she knew it., he added.
Alas, poor Williel you were buried by
soldiers hands, but made tender and
gentle SIS womans by love as OF broth
ers'. Alas! and alas you died so
young and in love, in love with the right.
| But the brave sleep well. The sweetest
| flowers of spring blossom upon their
graves. The dews of night rest gentlest
there. And though no marble shaft
rises above the buried head, or even a
rude inscription marks the last resting
place the ser-bV stops reyerentIy