The Wheeling daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1865-1903, 1866-03-15
BENNIE AND BLOSSOM.
p,tbltshei b. Requcst,

r. BENNIE AND BLOSSOM.
'-'- P,tbltshed by ReQtcst,
Farmer Owen of Vermont, gave his
son Bennie to his country in the late
war, The lad was found asleep at his
post and condemned to be shot, Mr..
Allan, Bennie's pastor, is on visit of
condolences TO the wretched father and
mother. Mr.. owen, in reply to the min
lister, says:
"Such a dear, precious, 'noblesboy! I
thought when 1 gave him to his coun-
try that not father in all this broad
land made SO precious n gift-no, not
one. God forgive me If my grief is a
sin. Mr.. Allan, the dear boy only
slept minute, just one little minute,
at his post Il know that was all, for Ben
ME never doZed over a duty. How
prompt and reliable he was" and Mr..
OWENS eye wandered out over the
brown fields with such a perpleXed,
wondering look. 81 know he only fell
off one little second; he was so young,
and not strong, that boy ofmine! Why,
he was as tall as ], and only eighteen
and now they shoot him because he was
found asleep when doing sentinel duty"
Mr.. Owen repeated these words very
slowly, as if endeavoring to find out
their true meaning: "Twenty=four
hours, the telegraph said-only twenty
four hours. Where is Bennie now?"
ave will hope with his heavenly
Father" said Mr.. Allan, soothingly.
merciful, and Bennie was SO good-I do
not mean holy," he said, correcting
himself sharply; "there is none holy,
no, not one; but Jesus died for sinners.
Mr.. Allan, tell me that. o Bennfe, Ben
niew
his name called, and turning, said,
with a smile, "Don't call so loud, father.
Bennie is not far off; he will come
Soon." zS.EAAl.A Lt.
"God laid his hand on them both, you
see," said Mr.. Owen, pointing to her
without making any direct reply. "She
has not been justly herself since. 1t is
a merciful thing she is sort of stunned,
it seems to me; she makes no wall.
Poor mother il my heart was not brok-
en- it would almost kill me to see her
so, Bennie was her idol. 1 told her
often, God had said, Thou shalt have
no Gods before me-
Mr.. Allan looked in astonishment Mt
the bowed man rs he came now and
done the work of years. The sfnewy
frame was tottering, the eyes were
dimmed, and the sudden sorrow had
written itself in deep wrinkles all over
his manly face. He recognized the
power of the great, kind heart, simple
and almost childlike. in its Innocent,
clinging affection; how could this be
reconciled to the stern, strong head
the head that to common observers out
linedsthe character of the man? "God
have mercy on you; he is trying you in
n furnace seven times heated" he ex-
claimed almost voluntarily.
[" Il should be ashamed, father he
said, when am man to think never
used this great right arm'-and he held
it out SO proudly before me-'for my
country when it needed it. Palsy it
rather than keep it at the plow.' go,
Bennie, then go, my boy said, and
God keep you. God has kept him, 1
think, Mr.. Allan! and the farmer re-
peated these last words slowly, as if, in
spite of his head, his heart doubted
them.
doubt it not"
Blossom had sat near them listening
with blanched cheek. She had not
shed tear to-day, and the terror in her
face had been so very still no one had
noticed it. She had occupied herself
mechanically in the. household cares.
which her mothers condition devolved
entirely upon her. Now she answered
n gentle tap at the kitchen door, open
ing it TO receive from a neighbor's hand
a letter. .It is from hiH," was all she
said.
=plwaS ike q HleSSARe AeuAs
Mr.. Owen could not break the seal for
his trembling fingers, and held it to-
ward Mr.. Allan, with the helplessness
The minister opened it and, obedi-
ent to motion from the father, read as
follows: 20
"Dear Father,-When this reaches you
shall be in eternity. AT first it seemed
awful to me; but have thought about
SO much now thatit has no terror. They
say they will not bind me nor blind
me, but that may meet my death like
n man. L thought, father, 1t might
have been on the battlefield, for my
country, and that when / fell it would
he fighting gloriously; but to be shot
tiow5 like dog for nearly betraying it.
to die for neglect of duty o, father, I
wonder the very thought does not kill
me. But shall not disgrace you.
am going to write you. all about 1t, ana
when 1 am gone you may tell my com
rades. / can't now. i-3r
z"You knowI promised Jenny Carr'S
mother would look after her boy, and
when he fell sick did all I could for
him. He was notstrong when he was
ordered back into the ranks, and the
day before that night i carried all his
luggage, besides my own, on our marcn..
Toward night we went In on double
quick, and though the luggage began 70
tIteL very -NNSI y
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 Jemmy's turn to De
sentry, and would take his place, but
I was too tired, father. L could not
have kept awake If had gun at my
head; but did not know it until-well,
until it was too late"
tGod be thanked!" interrupted Mr..
owen reyerently; "I knew Bennie was
not the boy to sleep carelessly at ms
post"
EThey tell me to-day that have a
short reprieve, given to me by circnm,,
stances, time to write to you, our good
colonel says. Forgive him, father, he
only does his 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 moth
ing but beg and entreat them to let him
die in my stead.
blossom. Comfort them, father! Tell
them I die as a brave boy should, ana
that when the war is over they VIII not
be ashamed of me as they must be now.
God help me, it is very hard TO bear;
Good-by, father. God seems near ana
dear to me- not at all as If he wished
me to perish forever, but as II he IeIt
sorry for his poor, sinful, broken-
hearted child, and would take him 70
be with him and my Saviour In pet-
ter, better life.n
* great sob burst from Mr.. Ovens