St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1888-10-27
WARS CHANCES.
The Armloss Soldier and His Faith.
ful Nurse.

dropped upon the field with q miser-
able knowledge that he had fired his
last shot at the enemy, while yet there
was need of his right arm in his coun-
try's service, he had known nothing
until he opened his eyes upon the
white walls of a crowded hospital. ly-
ing weak as any child upon his pillow.
and feeling perfect Indifference to the
past the present and the future.
Some one offered him q drink, and
instinctively he tried to take the cup
with his right hand; then he cried as
we do cry in our extremity: ''Oh, my
God" He could have borne the loss
of one arm calmly. but both-no words
could express his agony.
After that one cry he said nothing,
but lay perfectly quiet, thinking what
should he do-how occupy the wretch
ed time before him. How should he
learn to do without what was dearer
to him than his limbs or his eyesight,
or his 1ife itself at its brightest, the
sweet hope of making Nellie Home the
partner of his life? Now he could
marry no one; now he should never
have "a fireside where . sweet face
should welcome him, any more than
he should ever 60 back again to work
on the dear old farm She would pity
him. of course; but he should see her
marry some one else. or hear OF it, for
he could not bear to look into, her eyes,
if they did not WEAR he look OF the
olden 6me-the sweet, sweet counting
time.
Some one-the woman whose face
was nearly hidden in hood and ker-
chief. perhaps-had put q cup with
viOlets in it on the table near his bed.
He hardly knew whether they most
panied or pleased him. They awakened
such sweet melodies and such bitter
regrets. He had marched away to the
war with the first that had bloomed
that year, in his button-hole, the day he
left Nellie.
God send you back to me!" she had
said; and he knew she loved him. But
no man could fancy q girl bound to q
helpless fellow like him because she
had promised herself to q man able
and willing to protect and cherish her.
but l love her. all the same" he
mOaned: Il love her all the same-my
pretty Nellie" Then he began to won
der why he should have this SAINT to
hims and to feel hard and cold. and to
wish himself dead, and to hate the very
kindness of those who ministered to
him.
But he could not, after all. a. the
day wore on, feel thus to the woman |
with her face so oddly tied up and |
hidden. who waited upon him with |
such tenderness; who seemed to
anticipate his every wish, and whose
touch upon his hair was so pleasant.
AT last he tried to thank her. 1t was
SO churlish to let her think he did not
know how good she was to him; and
she seemed, he thought, to be sorry
for him. And the effort did him good:
and tears came into his eyes, and he
wept softly for the old time, and
Nellie. After that he was very patient
and not quite so wretched. And still
the nurse in the cap and hood watched
over him. soothing him inexpressihly
by the touch of her little hand upon
his. brow and making him think Of
another hand just as soft and smooth
which he had held 80 often.
With days he gained strength. and
vas as sure Of life as any there. In
he twilight OF an autumn day he
:alied the hooded nurse to him,
Madam" he said. ':you have been 90
rery kind to me that I. who must al
ways ask favors now, dare to ask you
another. I want q letter written!
Will you write it?" Tho nurse whis-
,ered a tremulous ''Yes," and without
mother word brought pen and paper.
md sat down at little stand where he
,ould not sec her face Then there
vas pause, |,
"Is to your mother. or your sisterp"
he asked.
He sighed. ''They know" he said.
No, it is to some ono else-to-to the
,irl who promised to marry me few
'ears ago. To Miss Nellie Home"
md then his voice faltered. Il love :
YER So" be continued IN trembling /,