The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1877-06-14

or surgical treatment in the Union
army. From these figures it is safe to
estimate that at least 100000 men
were killed or MANNED, in sublime
effort to preserve the Union; thus
furnishing startling sequel and pecu-
liar significance to that patriotic and
soul stirring song, "We are coming
father Abraham, 100000 more"
In addition to the 2S0,000 men who
died in the field, at least 10000 have
died since the c.ose of the war, from
the immediate effects of wounds re-
celved or disease contracted in the SER
vice; making no less than 100000
heroes who, for their Country's sake,
now "sleep the sleep that knows no
waking"
Concerning them an anonymous but
gifted pen has written these appropri-
ate lines:
Four hundred thousand men,
The bravc-the good-the true,
In tangled wood, in mountain glen,
On battle plain, in prison pen,
Lie dead fur me and YOU
Four hundred thousand of the brave
Have made our ransomed soil their grave,
For Inc and you.
Good friend for me and youi
In many a fcvered swamp,
BY many "a black bayou,
In many cold and frozen camp,
The weary sentinel ceased his tramp,
And died for Inc and youi
From western plain TO ocean tide,
Are stretched The graves of those who died
For me and youi
Good friend for me and you.
On many a bloody plain
Their ready swords they drew,
And poured their life blood like the rain.
y hone-a heritage 10 gain
To gain for me and YOU
ollr brothers mustered by our side
They marched, they fought, and bravely
died
For me and you,
Good friend for me and you
Up many a fortress wall
They charged-thosc bows in blue
Mid surging smoke, The yolley'd ball;
The braVcst were the iii 81 10 fall
To fall for me aud YOU
These noble men, the nations pride
-Four hundred thousand men have died
For me and youl
Good friend for me and YOU!
In treason's prisonhold
Their martyr spirits grew
To stature like the saints Of old,
While amid agoncs untold.
They starved Tor me and YOU,
The good, the patient and the tried,
-Four hundred thousand men have died
For me and you,
Good friend for me and you,
debt we ne'cr can pay
To them is justly, due,
And TO the nations latest day
Our chiidren's children still shall say,
They die for me and you,
Four hundred thousand of the brave
Made this our ransomcd soil, their grave
For me and you
Good friend for me and youl
Yes, the title of ''the boy in blue"
is worth infinitely more than all that
wealth, or rank, or power can bestow.
He went forth hale and vigorous from
the old home, carrying with him the
musket and knapsack-the fathers
blessing and the mothers prayers.
He went forth from the side of sister
and sweetheart, full of hope and
ambition. The days ran into weeks,
the weeks grew into months, and the
months passed into years, while they
longed and looked for his return
but he came not. In the sunny South
to-day, the flowers of spring rest light
ly on his grave. Sadder still is the
picture Of him who went forth from
the arms of the affectionate wife, who
shut out from himself the light of the
baby's sunny smile, and the music OF
the pretty prattler who loved to climb
his fathers knee. He turned away
from the tears and pleadings of the
fond partner of life, who staid behind
to watch and pray for the return of her
loved one; but prayers and pleadings,
tears and vigils, avail not with that
grim monster, war, who ever delights
to pluck for his trophies, the bright
est, the bravest and the best. She
watched and prayed and hoped in
vain; he never came. To-day the
babe of sunny smiles is budding into
womanhood; and the pretty pratt
ling boy has grown to almost the
years Of majority. The furrowcd
lines on the mothers face tell but too
plainly the grief Of widowhood, and