Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1869-11-11
Miscellaneous.
JOHN.
A Thrilling Hospital Sketch.

One evening found lately emptied
bed occupied by a large. fair man. with
a fine face and the serenest eyes ! ever
met. One of the earlier corners had
often spoken OF friend, who had re-
manned behind that those apparently
worse wounded than himself might
reach shelter first. Ii seemecra David
and Jonathan sort Of a friendship. The
man frcticd for his mate. and was new
er tired of praising John-his courage,
selfdenial. sobriety, and unfailing
kindlincss Of heart always winding up
with lies an out an out fine feller,
ma ma; YOU see If he amt ! had
some curiosity TO behold this piece Of
excellence. and when he came. watched
him for night or two, before ! made
friends with him for TO tell the truth l
was a little afraid of the stately look
ing man. whose he'd had 10 he length
encd 10 accommodate his commanding
stature who seldom spoke, uttered no
complaint. asked no sympathy, but
TRANQUILITY observed what went on
about him and as he lay high upon
his pillows, no picture Of q dying
statesman or warrior Was ever fulleref
rea. dignity than this Virginia black
smith. The only time saw his COM
posure disturbed was when my surgeon
brought another TO examine John, who
scrutlnized their faces with anxious
looks. asking the elder. "Do YOU think
shall pull through. sir" Il hope SO,
nv man" And. as the two passed on,
John's eyes still followed them. with
an intentness which would have won .
truer answer from them had they seen
il. A momentary shadow fitted over
his face then came the usual serenity,
as if in that brief eclipse he had &C
knowledged the existence Of some hard
possibility. and, asking nothing yet
hoping all things, leit the issue in Gods
hancs. with that submission which 10
true piety.
The next night as went my rounds
with Dr. F., ! happened TO ask which
man in the room probably suffered
most; and to my great surprise, be
glanced at John.
Every breath he draws is like a
stab for the ball pierced the LEFT lung,
broke IA rib, and did no end Of damage
here and there so that the poor lad
can find neither furgetfulness nor ease,
because he must lie on his wounded
back or surfocate. 1t will be . hart
struggle and long one, for he pos
sesses great vitality; but even his
temperate life cannot save him /; | wish
| il could.
You don't mean he must die, doc
tori
Bless YOU, there's not the slightest
hope for him. and you'd better tell him
SO before long women have a way OF
doing such things comfortably, 80 l
leave it to you. He won't last more
than a day or two at farthest."
After that night, an hour Of each
evening that remained to him was de-
voted to his ease or pleasure. lie
could not talk much, for breath was
precious, and he spoke in whispers
but. from occasional conversations. l
CLEANED scraps Of private history which
only added to the respect and affection
felt for him. Once be asked me "a
write a letter, and - settled pen and
paper, said with An irrepressible
elimmer..of feminine curiosity. ''Shall
II he wife or mother, John!
"Neither, mama; I've got NO wife
and will write to mother myself
when | get better. Did you think
vas married because Of this 2" he asked
touching . plain ring that he wore
and often turned thoughtfally on his
finger when he lay alone. ~
Partly that, but more from . sett!e,
sort of look you have, look ~nlc'
Young men seldom-get until they mar
y.' .ro.. .,