The Plymouth Democrat. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1869-1941, 1869-12-02

to hear me but the other, without turning
his eyes from their terrified gaze, pointed
mutely, and with shaking hand to the
man who sat so calmly reading his news
paper.
you wish to see him."
The man shuddered.
"He is dead !" he said. 1--WE have just
been to his funeral"
"Oh, no! it is mistake" / replied
soothingly, beginning to see what was the
matter, though not knowing how the mis-
take had occurred. He is getting along
nicely. There is not the least likelihood OF
his dying at present"
"But," the man persisted, still staring,
his death was reported with his age,
place of birth, his regiment and company,
and We have been together the whole
year. We heard it, and saw it in the
mornings paper, and we came down from
Camp Distribution to his funeral"
By this time the other man had got his
Jaws together and looked at me.
"Did you get near enough to the chap
lain at the funeral to hear the names
read ?" asked.
"No, we were late, and the names had
been read" was the reply. But we saw
the paper with all the particulars in it,"
/ could but smile at his persistence.
"Well, you can go and ask him if he is
dead" | said, turning away to attend to
my business
They crossed the ward warily, with their
eyes still intently fixed on the object of
their incredulous fear, and when they
were half way across, Heine looked up
and saw them A bright smile broke over
his face, and he held out both hands.
"How are you, Herman? And you,
Matts I'm glad to see you"
At the sound of his ringing voice, and
the sight of his CHEEKY face, their last
doubt vanished, and they sprang forward
to grasp his hand, and one hung about his
neck and kissed him and burst into tears,
while the other stood silent, but with
| brimming eyes and quiverlng lip. 1t
made my own eyes till.
| At first Heine listened to their story with
wondering incredulity, and suddenly
turned alb out and reached the card above
his bed He glanced over it, then looked
at me.
"Have you succeeded in convincing
your friends that you are not dead!"
asked, going to him.
| He gave me the card.
"That explains" he said. You know
our beds were pushed along night before
last, and we forgot to move the cards. /
suppose, in the hurry, when Thomas died,
the ward master took down the card over
his bed and sent it to the office without
looking at it."
| Heine seemed moved, not so much at
| the thought of death associated with him,
he had become too familiar with it for
that, but at sight of his friends unexpected
| devotion.
left them, and they sat long with him,
not going till the very last minute that
left them time to get to camp before their
pass should be Overstayed
l found that Heine's name had not been
read out at the funeral, the chaplain, who
J was acquainted with him, and had seen
him that day, perceiving that there must
be some mistake.
Well, Heine," / said, "you see you
/ were wrong in one thing there are others
beside the Van Dorms who would mourn
/ you dead
He locked up with glittering eyes,
Yes, God bless the poor fellows! /
didn't dream they cared so much about
me-"
LEARN one thing by this" l said, sig
nifcantly. 1T is not the deepest or truest
affection that processes the most"
He dropped his eyes, and for moment
was silent Then he said:
"They will all hear of my death Ned
Trask, who told these fellows, told them
he had written to Van Dorm and sent the
paper"
"Such an unlucky mistake !" said, and
went in fever Of annoyance, to scold the
ward-master and send the right card to the
office.
Later in the afternoon Heine beckoned
me to him. There was little unusual
color in his face, and light in his eyes !;
and though he smiled, it was merry
smile.
awhile before writing" he said. "Per-
haps | ought not, but would like to see
how they all take it."
/ agreed with him. Perhaps it was
wrong, but also would like to see how
they all would "take it." So we prac-
ticed mastery inactivity" and waited.
Two days after, as quickly as the mail
could bring letter, came an epistle di-
rected to the lady nurse of Ward Six, New
Jerusalem Hospital. / opened it, and read
at the bottom of the second page, Ger
trude G.. Van Dorm" 1t was a precious
epistle, written as she assured me, by a
woman ut deaths door, though the writ
ing was uncommOnly firm, and the lam
guage surprisingly fluent for person in
that condition. She also assured me that
the deceased was unto her like q son, and
indeed had he lived, he would have been
q son, being engaged to her eldest
daughter. read it all, then went and
sat by Heine, feeling angry enough with
him for this engagement, and fully willing
to tease him by telling him the whole
truth.
"Heine," l said, holding up the letter
before me, "Mrs Van Dorm is anxious
that your watch, and any papers and
money you may have died possessed of,
should be sent to her forthwith"
He colored, and looked intently at me,
but said nothing
"She says that she has done great
deal for you," went on, "and that you
are under great obligations to her."
told you what they have DONE" he
said, little hastily "For the rest have
always paid my board, and never counted
the many presents / have made. / tried
TO pay them tenfold all the expense they
have been at for me, and / guess l have
succeeded"
"She is very far gone," said, showing
him the letter. See how feeble the writ
ing is? 1t is impossible for them to come
after your body. She supposes it will be
decently buried here"
Heinc grew rcdder in the face, and a
look of pain and modification clouded his
usual frank expression.
, She says that you were engaged to her
} daughter" l said, finally.
A spark of fire shot from his wide
opened eyes.
1t is lie p he cried
, / gave him the letter and he read it, hi.
hands shaking and his eyes flashing while
he read, and at the last word, he fiercely
! tore the sheet from end to end, ther
!, turned and hid his face in his pillow
, think the poor fellow shed tears at til,
! bitterness of this awakening L bent Oyer
| L., for a .rhinrorod ruord