Daily globe., 1879-04-06
somebody said, amused at the child's earnest,

ly anxious manner
80. wouldn't use It," she cried, in childish
disdain. ~ want it for my boys! It's been
days and days since they had any, and it
makes em so cross. Even the old Colonel
swore to-day Che swears drefful, and it makes
me siclO he'd give a leg for q good pipe full
like the Yankees had over on the otker side Of
the hill here. So I've been tninkin' all day
how could come across and get some for my
poor boys"
She looked so sweet and innocent, and her
great lustrous eyes had so pleading an ex-
preston as she spoke that many a rough
grimy face worked strangely in response to
| the thrilling of the cord of common brother
| hood, WI ich this baby's hand had touched.
Come here" said the last speaker, a
| grizzlcd kentucky giant, with a paw like a
| bear; hold out that big apron OF yours"
She lifted the corners of a little dark calico
apron she wore, which was about the size OF
| an ordinary pocket handkerchief, and ap-
| preached the kentuckian. "Thar," he cor
tinued, throwing in a large chunk OF fragrant
Lone Jack, that's half of what Ive got Jake
that to your 'boysp"
The sweet little voice rang out again and
| again in childish delight, for every man of
| us followed the Kentuckian's lead, and we
/ heaped the tiny apron full.
II smelled it before Isaw you, way up on
top Of the hill" she said, her dark eyes spark
| ling with pleasure, "and then knew hadn't
lost my way. And the music was pity, too.
/ IL Aduc uc lduSl, anu kHcW my DOyS WOutu
| be so pleased when l got back and told 'em
| where pd been. can sing, too" she added
| naively, Slightly dropping her sweet gypsy
| face.
"Then give us song to pay for the 'bacca,"
cried Hawkins the Kentuckian.
| dark eyes. 30, Pm going to bring it back,
sure, just as soon as ever we get some more.
But Pll sing, too. if you like"
We lifted her up on the tall stump of tree
near by. and the little creature began to sing.
She had not much voice-no child of five or
six has-but it was wonderfully sweet, and
| her powers of mimicry were marvellous.
Some one, perhaps the Capt. Ned, of whom
| she had told us, had composed the song for
her, and she gave it Thoroughly in character.
Doubtless she had sung it hundreds of times
before to similar audience, SO that she was
in no wise embarrassed when we applauded
vociferously.
Our appreciation pleased her, however, for
she laughed gaily; but she soon skipped MINI
bly, down from her impromptu pedestal, and
hand to each in farewell, with infinite infan-
tile dignity and grace. "The boys would
miss her." she explained, eff she stayed away
too long" When she reached the sergeant,
he suddenly stopped down to her, caught her
in his arms, and kissed her full on her sweet,
rosy mouth.
"Tention, squad!' he called out when he
drew himself up again, and his voice was
husky with emotion. We gave the little crea-
ture escort across the stream, and
watched her disappear among the thick
shrubbery which rose beyond.
1t was only a quarter of an hour or so af-
terward that we heard hoarse shout arise
from the enemys camp on the other side Of
the hill. 1t was the welcome which those
poor half-starved rebs were giving to the lit
tie heroine and to our tobacco! We never
stopped to think but with hearty three-times-
three we sent back the cheer, till the woods
anil rocks re-echoed the sound far off to the
distant mountain range. And then we looked
sadly round at each other to think how baby's
hand had spun this slender thread which
stretched between brothers divided by such
a wide sea of blood and suffering.
don't know whether it was the remem-
brance OF the child whose appearance had
touched him so deeply or presentment OF
| what was to cOme but from that night Ram
son seemed to lose his bright spirits. Even
his promotion, which came the next week
, failed to rouse him from the detection which
. seemed to take possession of him. When ne
was made lieutenant, of course I ceased tc
share his tent, and believe he felt the loss as
f much as l did. At any rate when he was
, wounded and taken to the hospital he begged
, that might be allowed to wait on him. Anl
, perhaps because I was more gentle than the
other men the request was gran ted and stait
! with him through the three days which
: elapsed before he died. For he did die, bu
not before he had told me part of the painful
t story which he had always shrnnk from ap
preaching in his days of splendid health.
S He had married young, he said, and yer,
: foolishly. His wife had been brilliantly
d beautiful, vain, capricious girl, and both hat
: been too young to realize the responsibilities
e and cares that were to come with marriage
n She had never really cared for him, but sh'
# had born him one chlld-a baby daughter
d He was of Northern birth, although living il
{h1S rrI,<,v l.,
e married life had already been so unhappy
e that it. was scarcely an added pain when sh
refused to live with him on account of hi
e political sentiments. Only the thought o
If the child bound him in any way to the beau
e tiful intractable mother. He went to her a
IS her fathers house and begged, for the SAX
it of the child, that she would return to him
Is The father seconded his request, but the gin
e was like adamant. She would never shar
d the home Of a Yankee, she protested Tn
e only comfort that the wretched husban
le could extort from her was the promise
IN write of the child's welfare.
,r Then came terrible days in the Soutl
z Months passed, and the once fair and ric
a plantations were devastated, ruined. Ramso
K. came North, and in his Wretehedness foun
the army the most fitting place to drive ava
le the reeclections that haunted him. He kne'
ID the child was safer in its grandfather's HON
than it could be With him, and beside thi
OF the brave soldiers heart was yet too tende
as to strike the mother by claiming the chill
r. But one day came a letter from his wife tel
90 ing him the babe was dead, and after this tn
ly episode of his married life was as close
ne turned. This was all his story, and he told
OF to me with eyes bright with fever and lii
lie that trcmbled with weakness as he spoke.
ell "Do you remember" he asked, that bal
or that came to us that night in camp? We
1t, my little one would have been just as old, al
MI hon hat nf,;1
ng Louise. 1t was for my baby's sake that
kissed her; not for her likeness to the bab,
mother. And vet, poor Ouise."
lp- He turned uneasily on his side, and his ia
ng flushed even a deeper red. He clasped n
OIL hand tightly and then his mind began to wa
ut der. By next morning he was dead.
ore The war did not last much longer, and
ra- its close went to New York. This is not I
ON own story, SO I shall not tell you how it cal
ose to pass that found myself by the will of a
:, lative left my own master, with abunds
ute means and not claim upon me in the wor
ing But one day l was called over to Baltime
Sc, on some business, and thee, in one of
her most public streets, I saw a sight whi
The attracted my attention strangely.
III, We Northern men scarcely realized duri
oss the war how much sympathy for the Sol
was felt in Baltimore. But the Southern
she knew it, ana, therefore, to a Baltimorear
!, in appeared only matter of course that G,
her federate soldier in his gray uniform should
ssy standing at the corner of q street gripdi
eat away at an old hand-organ. 1 say standil
md although this poor fellow had no legs to sta
1t upon-only two poor deformed stumps
us, which his body rested was attrac
am by the sight, but should probably have pass
1t on with no more than stare of curiosity, /
her not child beside the soldier began to si
had don't know that shonld have recogni
ler the "Battery's Pride" either, for the elflo
her were all braided neatly around her head
lte. she was taller and less chubby than whe
lid had seen her in our camp two years ago,