The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1884-03-13


lieved me: Take table salt, say tablespoonful;
put it in q basin, and pour in boiling water, one
pint. Then inhale until cool enough To dip up ia
your hand and snuff up your nose until it IS cold
This treatment at least twice day, will give re-
lief-S a. Battershen, company A, 9TH Illinois "
" cavalry, Chanute, Kan.
Will some one send through THE TRIBUNE
the words of the song beginning:
Those evening bells! those evening bellsl
How many a tale their music tells
OF home and friend and that sweet time
When first heard their soothing chime"
"A Soldiers Wife.
VIII some ore tell me how to remove frecl1les,
and oblge-Inqurer.
We like best to get letters from the boys and
girls who do their own writing. Their letters
may not be as neat or correctly written as
those who have help from older PERSONS but
they are just what we want. The very fact
that il is often hard work for the little folks
brings them nearer to US, and We want to give
every brave little writer hug and say, as
Whittier did to the hool-boy who he met
trudging along the dusty highway:
Blessings on thee, little man,
Barefoot boy with cheek of tani"
Only we think our words would be:
Blessings on you little desrs,
Come yourselves and have no fears!
Our Weekly Experience Meeting.
A VOICE FROM sALIsBURY--THE DYING SOL
DIER's soNG-ARREsTING THE PoLICE-oUR
YOUNG RECRUITS.
FULLERTON, NER., Feb. Is, 1884.
To the Editor NATIONAL TRIBUEE:
was so fortunate last week as to have handed
a copy of your most excellent paper. Please
put my name on the muster-rol as life subscriber
am much pleased with the little ones correspond
ence under the heading of Children's Chat" Tell
Jennie NJ. Rash that if / knew the names of her
uncles who starved in Salisbury, might tell her
al a a
hospitals and remember many of the poor fellows
who sleep in those long and shallow graves. Oh !
how vivid the remembrance of those up-turned
faces are to me they lay as they had fought,
shoulder to shoulder. No stone marks their rest
ing place. and but three feet Of dirt hides them from
view. In conclusion, let me- on behalf OF the giori-
Gus lst Minnesota, of which WAS member, thank
Miss Dada and Mrs. Susan Hall Barry for their
kind attentions and ministrations to the wants of
our friend and comrade, Amos Schofeld, of Good
hue county, Minnesota, who was wounded at Bull
Run. IL. O. MAGooN.
THE DYING SOLDIERS SONG.
MOLINE, ILL.,. Feb. %, 1884.
To the Editor NATIONAL TRIBUNE;
have little plate that given to me in 1861
by soldier as they were passing through Patter-
son, Juniatia county, Pa, to Washington. was
but ten years old, but think ever so much OF it.
do not remember the soldiers name but our
mother always took bread and coffee to the trains,
and it was given to me then. My husband, Alex.
Miller, was in company p, 1st regiment OF light
artillery, Illinois volunteers, and served three years
under Captain Eager III. Cooper. He would be
glad to hear from his comrades through the TRIB-
USE. which we could not get along without
The following lines We're sung by dying soldier,
who fell on hard-fought battlefield. He enlisted
vixen student at the Lewisburg lPa.) University:
SOLDIERS DEATH-BED HYMN.
Let me go where saints are going,
To the mansions OF the biest;
Let me go where my RedeeHer
Has prepared his peoples rest.
would gain the realms of brightness,
Where they dwell forevermore;
/ would join the friends that wait me
Over on the other shore.
Let me go where none are weary,
Where is raised no wall of wee;
Let me go and bathe my spirit
In the raptures angels know.
Let me go, for bliss eternal
Lures nay soul away. away,
And the yictoFs' song triurnphafs
Thrills my heart cannot stay.
| Let me go: why should tarry
What has earth TO bind me here
What but cares, and tolls and sorrow,
What but pain, and death and fear?
Let me go. for hopes most cherished
Blasted round me often lie;
OH I've gathered brightest flowers
But to see them fade and Gle.
Let me go where tears and signing
Are forevernlore unknown;
Where the joyous song of glory
Calls me to happier home
Let me go, l fear not dying,
would gain life's fairer plains
I would join the myriad harpers.
would chant the rapturous strains.
Let me GO there is glory
That my soul has longed to know;
] am thirsting for the waters
That from crystal fountains flow
| There is where the angels tarry,
There the blesi forever throng,
There the brightness wearles never,
There wen sing Redemption's song.
Mgs NANEIE l. MILLER.