Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1866-03-23

SldcS my own, on our march. Tow
ard night we went in on the double
quick, and though the luggage began
to feel very heavy, every body else
was tired too, and as for Jenny, if
| had not lent him an arm now and
then he would have dropped by the
way. | was all tired out when we
came into camp, and then it was Jem-
my's turn to be sentry. and | would
take his place, but | was too tired,
father. could not have kept awake
Fif | had gun at my head, but I did
not know it until-well, until l was
too late"
"God be thanked interrupted Mr..
Owen fervently, Il knew Bennie was
not the boy to sleep carelessly at his
post"
"They tell me to-day that have
short reprieve given to me by Cir
cumstances; time to write to you,
our good colonel says. Forgive him
father, he only does bis duty; he
would gladly save me if he could;
and don't lay my death up against
Jenny. The poor boy is broken
hearted, and does nothing but beg and
entreat them to let him die in my stead.
II can't bear to think of mother
and Blossom. Comfort them, father !
Tell them | die as brave boy should,
and that when the war is over they
will not be ashamed of me as they
must be now. God help me, it is
very heard to bear Good bye, father,
God seems near and dear to me, not
at all as if he wished me to perish
forever, but as if he felt sorry for his
poor, sinful, broken hearted child, and
would take him to be with him and
my Savior in better, better life"
A great sob burst from Mr.. Owens
heart "Amen!' he said solemnly !;
"Amen! y
Tonight in the early twilight |
shall see the COWS all coming home
from pasture. Daisy, and Brindle
and Bet; old Billy, too, will neigh to
me from his stall, and precious little
Blossom stand on the back stoop wait
ing for me-but ! shall never-never
come. God bless you all; forgive
your poor Bennie."
Late that night the door of the
"back stoop" opened softly and lit
tie figure glided out, and down to the
footpath that led to the road by the
mill. She seemed rather flying than
walking, turning her head neither to
the right nor to the left; starting not,
as the full moon stretched queer, fam
tastic shapes all around her, looking
only now and then to Heaven, and
/ folding her hands, as if in prayer.
Two hours later the same young
Girl stood at the Mill depot, watching
a. >,,y.4.i..7 - -. ~->Nfr; Gnu UIrN
conductor, as he reached down to lift
! her in, wondered at the sweet tear
stained face that was upturned to the
dim lantern he held in his hand.
A few questions and ready ans
wers told him all, and no father could
have cared more tenderly for his
own child than he did for little Bios.
som.
She was on her way to Washington
to ask President Lincoln for her
brothers life. She had stolen away
leaving only note to tell her father
where, and why, she had gone. She
had brought Bennie's letter with her
no good kind heart like the Presi
dents could refuse to be melted by it
The next morning they reached n
York, and the conductor found suita
bic company for Blossom, and hurried
her on to Washington. Every min
ute, now, might be a year in her broth
, er's life.
And so in an incredible short time
Blossom reached the capitol and wa:
hurried to the White House.
The President had but just seated
himself to his mornings task, of over
looking and signing important papers
when. without word of Announcement
; the door softly opened, and Blossom
with eyes downcast aud folded hand
) stood before him.
5 SWELL, my child" he said in hi
pleasant, CHEEKY tones, "what do yo
: want so bright and early in the morn
ing?"
: "Bennie's life, please sir" faltere'
out Bio ;Som.
: "Bennie? Who is Bennie ?"
| my brother, sir. They are goin
: to shoot him for sleeping at his post. :"
e "Oh yes" and Mr.. Lincoln ran hi
S eye over the papers before him.
;. remember. 1t was a fatal Sleep
e You see, child. it was at time o
e special danger. Thousands of live
S might have been lost for his culpabl
negligence"
|. $50 my father said," said Blosso1
il gravely, but poor Bennie was 50 tire
It sir, and Jenny so weak. He did ii
s. work of two, sir, and it was Jenny
night not his, but Jenny was to
i tired, and Bennie never thought abo'
d himself that he was too tired.
"What is this you say, child? con
Nc here, don't understand" and the XIII
if man caught eagerly, as ever, at VIII
p seemed to be justification OF al {
# fence.
Ii Blossom went to him. He pnt b
y hand tenderly on her shoulder al
n. turned up her pale, anxious face
le wards his. How tall he seemtd, al
1t he was President of the United State
o. too! A dim thought of this kind p;
a sed for a moment through Blossom
Dr. mind, but she told her story siml
er and straightforward, and handed \
. Lincoln Bennie's letter to read.
m He read it carefully, then taking
id his pen wrote a few hasty lines, u
ny rang his bell.
BLOSSOM heard this order given i: