The sun. [volume] (Morris, Stevens County, Minn.) 1882-1895, 1884-07-17


The Touch of q Mothers Hand
From the Philadelphia Press. X
A Lieutenant of Rhode Island bat.
terry, a mere youth, lay dying at Wash
ington. He had his right foot shat
tered by piece of she'll at an engage
ment near Mechanicsville. The foot
had been amputated, but he sank slow
~ away. All his sufferings had been
borne with soldiers fortitude, audit
was now near midnight, he having
reached the city at noon. His mother
had been telegraphed for and was tc
meet him at Washington in day or two.
his bedside, the one tanning him and
the other holding his feeble hands.
The lady had her finger on the pulse,
noting the fiuctuating pulsation.
About midnight his mother arrived at
the hospital, and begged to see
her boy. She was cautioned not
tc excite him, as the least thing would
carry him off suddenly. She said she
would slip in and take the place of one
of the ladies by his bedside. It was
quite dark In the room and he dozed.
Smothering her emotion, the mother
stole softly to the bedside and, sitting
down, took the lmpid hand from the
lady. Hardly had she touched his hand
when he said slowly: ''Sure ly that was
my mothers hand. I know her touch.
Then, opening his eyes, he asked. Who
is this beside me? It must be my
mother. 1 feel her hand; turn up the
gas and let me see my mother. I know,
oh, thank God, / know, know she is
here" The gas was turned up, and
the two dear faces met in one long low
ing embrace. After little he said:
"Oh, mother, am so happy now that
l am with you. I shall die content"
But you must not die, my dear boy, "
said the fond parent. II could not
lose YOU"
"Alas," he replied, II wish It could
he so, but God wills 1t otherwise; but,
mother" he said with smile, 81 have
faced death too often to be afraid of him
now, and I gladly give up my life to my
country"
This young man had been wounded
on the very last day of his three years
service. One more day and he would
have been discharged and on his way
home. He died when he was just twenty
years, and nine months old.
After one of the severe battles some
officers were riding in the wood near
P,..I L
dead they noticed the body of little
boy resting against tree. He seemed
to have sat down at the foot of the tree
and fallen asleep, with q handker-
chief covering his face. Removing
the handkerchief, countenance of rare
loneliness was disclosed. The boy was
clad in handsome, almost gay, uniform
of staff officer, and beside him lay a
fancy little sword. The officers dis
mounted and gathered. about him, one
lifting him carefully up. The blue eyes
stared in vacancy, and, although stone
dead, he was not yet cold. He had a
wound in his right breast, and his jack
ct and underclothing were soaked with
blood. disappearance indicated he was
attached to the staff of some regiment
or general, but no one knew him. A
search in his clothing resulted in discov-
ering small bible, and on the fy-leaf
was written, Games Simmons, New
York. From his loving mother. My
son, remember thy Creator in the days
ofthy youth. Nothing else was found by
which to identify him.
One of the officers wished to take him
to headquarters, but that was six miles
away, so they left him where he fell.
Els face was bright-almost radiant
and his lips parted in smile. He was,
indeed a beautiful boy, and some
mothers darling, but there he lay, q
victim of the cruelty of war; Who he
was, other than that Bible told, I never
heard, but if they be living hope these
lines may meet the eyes of his friends.
He was not over twelve or fourteen years
of age.
At Nashville in one of the hospitals,
on little cot, lay a young officer,
almost boy, whose form was burning
with fever. All day long he lay on the
bed, his bright eyes fixed upon the
miniature of o beautiful woman, which
heheld in his hand. He kissed it again
and again, murmuring. Mother my
mother. ;" In the night lie grew worse
and delirious, talking all the time about
his mother. One of the sisters came to
him, and, catching sight of her dress,
he smiled and said, "Ah, mother, 1
knew you would come" The nurse
smoothed his brow, and he murmured,
"Kiss me. dear mother" Tenderly the
noble woman stopped down and kissed
him. "Ah," he said, "this is the first
moment of peace I have known for q
week." and passed quietly away.
His mother did not come, but the
Sister of Charity smoothed his way.
All, when these death-bed scenes are
remembered, and the gentle, patient,
gray-robed figures gliding about among
the dead and dying, what do we not owe
to those noble women who sacrificed
comfort, home, everything to minister
to our poor boys in the war.