The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-08-15
For THE ARKANsAw TRAVELLER.
 CLARA BARTON'S FRIEND.
BY DICK STEELE.

"Yes. Brought in this morning by the police patrol. Found dead at the foot of the stairs leading into an unused Chinese washee-washee."
 This was all the knowledge gained from the morgue official.
 The body upon the slab was one of several mute companions given but few short hours above the ground for possi- ble, but not probable identification Turning away to seek the brighter and more cheering scenes of the busy throb- ping street-life observed, or fancied that l did, strangely familiar look in the cold, expressionless face upon the pallid stone. Those features that may have been strained and pained in the throes of death were now calm, quiet, peaceful. passed around to the other side and sought the left arm of the corpse. A dark blue, hne. pointed star beneath the initial letters, "C. D." was there in scribed with that indeliole chemical, India ink.
 Again closely scanned the features, and flood of recollections with resist less tide swept me back through long years of an active life.
 Was it in 1859 or 1860?
 The latter date. Yes, just before the struggle when the war clouds were gath ering and strong mems passions boiling hercely. Two sisters, one mother with an invalid son, IS years of age, sought the climatic influences of "cool Minne- sota in the fall of the year 1860, hoping that they might restore to health the youth dying with consumption. They came from New England The dead face before me recalled only the name of the maiden sister, the young invalid's aunt-Clara Barton-a hallowed name which has been voiced with patriotic reverence, alike by the humblest soldier and the greatest, grandest statesmen of the land. The little family sought and obtained board with New Englander named Southworth, living few miles out from Rochester, Minn. And day and night these two loving, tender women ministered to the wants and needs of the young man wasting day by day, yet pos sessed with all the heroic confidence in future health so peculiar to his disease.
 The attending physician recommended as much exercise in the open air as the youths strength would permit and diet principally of wild game. Prairie chick en abounded in the wheat stubble, wild duck frequented the crystal waters of the Zumbro river, and the more toothsome partridge drummed in the ringing tim Der of the streams. C. D., with the i've pointed star on his left arm, was neigh boring lad, and, for his age, skillful Nimrod, possessing successful gun and a well-trained hunting dog.
 Could C. D. be hired to provide game
 No, but he would enjoy nothing bette, than to be able to serve anything in this line gratuitously for the sakes of the sick youth, his mother, Miss Barton and the Southworth family.
 For two months C. D. almost daily brought quail, prairie chicken, duck, partridge or pigeon to the Southworth farmhouse, and more than once did Clara Barton go bravely forth afield and awaken the widest admiration of C. D., by her skill in wiuging quail and prairie chicken.
 Then the labor of love was brought to its inevitable close. The young man died and the two sisters accompanied the casket containing the remains of the youth back to their New England home.
 In the succeeding year the fury of the