Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1882-10-21

he had gone, looking as bright and
eager as could be, while | laughed, and
held up the children for him to kiss,
and he told them father would soon be
back, and treated it just as if he was
going for holiday. Then we saw him
into the train-saw him leaning out,
waving bis cap to me till they went
around the curve, the little ones waving
their bandkerekkiieefs, and ttfiitdt- looking as
happy as could be, till he was out OF
sight, and looked happy, too, till our
eldest girl turned her little face up to
me, and / saw her pretty lips tremble,
and her face work, as she cried ont all
at once:
81 don't want poor father to co.
How could keep calm then? You,
who think of those that are dear, and
who have husbands, sons and brothers
forced to fight for their country, tell me
that? / know that it is their duty, and
that it must be done. That it is the
same with the highest as with the lowest
in the land. No, not quite. 1t is ter
rible hard that the men of the Reserve
should, in so little quarrel, be obliged
to leave the homes they have made, their
steady, regular work, and wives and
children at home in penury and misery.
One week the father is earning his good
wages and bringing them home; the
next week he is gone, and the unhappy
woman who shares his lot is no longer
the prosperous workman's wife, but the
poor wife of the soldier, struggling to
live upon the scanty pay that she re-
aaivac Tho cituotio, tho Rocarva mo n
, held is forfeited at once, and beside the
black outlook of poverty in the winter
to come-fOr what can q woman with
little children do to earn her bread p
there is the never -ceasing, weary hours.
and watching and waiting for news.
The kilograms of fights arrive. "Only
a trifing skirmish," the papers say,
"Our losses very SMALL" but there is
always list of killed and wounded for
wife, sister or mother to read with
swimming eyes, to see if he whom she
loves is there.
"Not this time" she cries, with a
burst of Joy, unless-yes, unless he be
one of the missing "that may turn up. y
That may turn up. when all the time he
may be lying wounded on the burning
sand. l tell you that night after night
[ lie awake, seeing my poor fellow with
glazing eyes and whitened lips fainting
in the terrible heat, and seeming to ask
me for water to quench his thirst. Then
L have seen him lying on a stretcher,
carried by four comrades to the rear. AT
one time it will be with his face gashed.
and dreadful look of agony as he turns
his head from side to side. AT anothes
time | have seen him carried in with HE
face covered over, so that / cannot set
it, but know it is he; and / have fel,
the cold sweat trickle from my brow as
/ have lain trembling and sick at heartt
Dreams and fancies, you willsay bur
who that has loved one at the war can
help such fancies-dreams ] have
fought and tried-I have knelt and
has come; but there are times when my
agony seems greater than l can bear.
He was gone to do his duty, as
thousands of our brave fellows have
gone before, and we whom they have
left behind, we soldiers wives, will do
our best to keep hope alive, and pa
tiently bear our lot; but for those who,
like myself, are so suddenly left adrift
struggling without the husbands pro-
tecting arm-ought not the country,
which we are told is grateful, do little
more The Reserve man should not
marry, you will say; but is this just
After years of toll, ready at any time to
risk his life in the country's cause, has
he not earned his rest? Surely you
will own he has, and that he does no
wrong in making himself home. Think
of this, then, sooner than condemn, and
have some pity on the suffering wives
who sit at home and weep.