Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1889-07-05
LITTLE CANTEEN.


In the winter of 1861, lay sick in
an army hospital, and was worn near
ly to skin and bone by one of those
dread diseases of the camp that has
slain more soldiers than either bullets
or steel.
In this state of being, felt like
burden, and scarcely gave more than
a feeble smile of gratitude when in
formed by the surgeon in charge that
it had been decided to send me home
as a chance of recovery.
But after got on board the cars at
Richmond, and the train rolled out
from the depot, began to look about
me, and as | did so nv spirits rallied
somewhat, and rejoiced in the feel
ing that home with all of its endear-
ing associations would soon be reach
ed, and there | would get that rest and
loving attention which one finds no
where else, SO perfectly, and that if
my disease could not be conquered,
1 would at least have the consolation
of dying amongst my loved ones
The train was a long one, and
crowded to its utmost capacity. Sol
diers off on a spree, impudent and up
roarious; sick and wounded soldiers,
pale, feverish and pain racked; here a
smart commissary, there vermin in
tested rough from the front; yonder
an anxious, sad eyed woman taking
her boy home to die, further on a
young beauty afraid of the soldiers
and their rough jokes, and yet half
counting their notice-all sorts and
conditions mixed together, but all,
from the old gray heads to the young
est prattlers, agreed in one thing, viz :
undying devotion to the Southern
Confederacy.
We were soon past Petersburg, and
little later were rushing through
North Carolina, leaving some passen-
gers and taking up others as we sped
from station to station; but the same
general description of my fellow trav-
elers that have just given would
hold good from beginning to end of
the journey.
We were past Weldon-how far l
can't exactly say-and it was late in
the night when | was awakened from
an uncomfortable nap by the jerking
of the train as it started off after one
of its numerous stoppages. looked
out to see where we were. 1t was a
wood and water station, and standing
on one end of the wood rack there
was little boy. He was peering for
ward into the car windows as the
train slowly moved by. would have
thought no more of the circumstance,
but almost next moment the rear door
Of the car was opened, and the same
boy that | had seen on the wood rack
came timidly forward.
why, sonny" I said, 'where did
you come fromT
"Out yonder." pointing into the
darkness.
81 know that much already, for il
I'm not mistaken you are the same
boy / saw out on the wood rack JUS
now, amt your"
He nodded assent.
"Well, where did you come from
before that3 Don't be afraid; come
here and tell me about it.
The boy looked at me, and seemed
to be reassured by my manner and ex
preston, for he came forward withou
any further hesitation to the place a
my side. which I had beckoned hin
to take.
Everybody else in the car appeared t.
be asleep. So no one besides mysel
had observed his entrance. He was
handsome little fellow, but his clothe
were torn and dirty, and he limpet
like one who had been on long tramp
] repeated my question, and he re
piled that he had come from Charles
ton.
From Charleston |" l exclaimed il
establishment. why, how in tn
world did you get this far from Cha,
lesion by yourself2"
II walked"
Now, look here, my little man,
where the story tellers go1"
81 declare" said he, his blue eye
swimming in tears, I'm telling yo
the TRUTH am not telling you
story"
well, well, don't cry, bub-I'l
take your word for it; and wher
were you goinga"
''To Virginia, to find my papa"
l puckered up my mouth for Ion
whistle, but as that would be express
i've of disbelief, and as / didn't wan
to risk hurting the little fellow agar
! restrained myself, and proceeded t
draw his story from him.
IF you are going to Virginia." sal
] in a kind tone, you are on til
wrong train-this is taking us back
Charleston.
II know that, sir; but don't war