The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1878-11-22

political sentiments. Only the thought oil
the child bound him in any way to the
beautiful, intractable mother. He went to
her at her fathers house and begged, fol
the sake of the child, that she would re.
turn to him. The father seconded his re.
quest, but the girl was like adamant. She
would never share the home of Yankee
she protested. The only comfort that the
wreched husband could extort from her
was promise to write of the child's well
fare.
Then came terrible days in the South
Months passed, and the once fair and rich
plantations were devastated, ruined. Ram
son came North, and in his wretchedness
found the army the most fitting place to
drive away the recollections that haunt
ed him. lie knew the child was safer in
its grandiather's home than it could be
with him, and besides this the brave SOL
dier's heart was yet too tender to strike
the mother by claiming the child. But
one day came letter from his wife telling
him the babe was dead, and after this that
episode of his married life was as closed
page to him, to which he never or rarely
turned. This was all his story, and he told
it to me with eyes bright with fever and
lips that trembled with weakness as he
spoke.
"Do you remember" he asked, "that ba-
by that came to us that night in camp q
Well NY little one would have been just as
old, and it was wonderful how like that
child was to Louise. 1t was for my baby's
sake that l kissed her; not for her like
ness to the baby's mother. And yet, poor
Louise"
He turned uneasily on his side, and his
face flushed even n deeper red. He clasp
ed my hand tightly and then his mind be-
gan to wander. BY next morning lie was
dead.
The war did not last much longer, and
at its close l went to New York. This is
not my own story, so l shall not tell you
how it came to pass that found myself
by the will of q relative left my own mas
ter, with abundant means and not claim
upon me in the world. But one day l was
called over to Baltimore on some business,
and there, in one of the most public streets
saw a sight which attracted my attention
strangely.
We Northern men scarcely realized dur
ing the war how much sympathy for the
South was felt in Baltimore. But the
Southerners knew it, and, therefore, to
Baltimorean it appeared only matter of
course that a Confederate soldier in his
gray uniform should be standing at the
corner of street grinding away at an old
hand-organ. say standing, although this
poor fellow had no legs to stand upon
only too poor deformed stumps on which
his body rested. was attracted by the
sight, but should probably have passed on
with no more than stare of curiosity, had
not child beside the soldier began to
sing. don't know that should have rec
ognized the "Battery's Pride" either, for
the elf-locks were all braided neatly around
her head and she was taller and less club
by than when l had seen her in our camp
two years ago, but the words of the song
struck upon my ear as strangely familiar,
and my memory instantly sprang to the
time and place where | had heard them
before. Remembering, too, what poor
Ransom had said, stopped and spoke to
her.
She looked up pleased when put lit
tie gold piece into her palm and then l
asked her if she remembered me2
"She never forgets anything" the old
soldier said, Il pale emile spreading over
his sickly features as he looked at her.
But upon this occasion it appeared that
Nina had forgotten. She shook her head
and glanced up shyly into my face, but
declared that she had never seen me be-
fore.
But when | recalled her childish feat of
walking into an enemy's camp alone at
night her face lit up directly.
"And were you there ~ she asked, II do
not remember anybody, Oh yes, l do, she
added thoughlully, ~ remember the SER
geant. He took me in his arms and kissed
me p
l think some of my readers must know
the feeling that one has for an old comrade
at arms that one has fought beside and
suffered with, aud loved. doubt if there
is any other feeling in the world quite like
it. That this little thing should have re-
membered Ransom alone, out of score of
men who had been kind to her, touched me
deeply. had little to interest me in the
world, and ! was nearly forty. deter
mined to find out something of the child's
history, and perhaps do something for her
for Ramson's sake. And yet | did not
know then the claim she had upon him.
questioned the soldier closely and found
out where he lived. That evening | went
to see him, and, remembering that past
episode, took with me generous supply
of the Lone Jack for which Nina had plead
ed so eloquently two years ago. 1t was
only garnet where the two lived, and yet
the child had managed to give it Il certain
home-like air, for her pretty ways and
l,,n lt To hai
mon purse, and it was plain to see that
they were not in absolute want. And
some kind ladies, too, in the house below,
had helped them, the man said, for near
friends of their own had fallen in "Tle Lost
Cause"
But the man was very uneasy about Nj
ma. He had taken her as sacred trust,
he said, from his dead captain, that Cap
tain Ned of whom Nina has told us so
much. Captain Ned (his surname was
Anderson) had rescued the child from
house the Federals had fired, and although
he had advertised for the parents he had
never found them. The command had
been ordered to distant part of the coun-
try, and in time Captain Anderson had
become 80 attached to the child that he
could not bear to give her up. But he
had always said that he was only keeping
her till he could find her parents the
mother, he said, had been an old sweet
heart of his, Mrs. Ransom
"Ramson y cried "are you sure 2"
"Oh, yes" answered the soldier. Gap
tain Anderson knew the old plantation
well, aud so did !, and pretty Miss Louise
and her father, Colonel Mallory. We all
came from the same parts. Aud when
Captain Anderson died lie gave me these
papers and charged me if ever 1 came
across any of the Mallorys that l should
give up the child"
looked at the little one, who was kneel-
ing beside the pale soldier, with her small
hands clasped over the gray sleeve of the
Southern uniform.
kMu child y | said ,tenily Dunn did