Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1890-08-02
WAR "REMINISCENCES.
WHlSPERIN BILL.

WHlSPERlN BILL.
So you're tnlSD' the census, mstcri There's
three OF us livin still,
My wife nm !, an our only son, that folks call
Whspern Bill;
But Bill couldn't tell ye his name sir, an sc
its hardly worth givin',
For ye see bullet killed his mind, an left HIS
body livin'.
Set down for minute, mister; ye see Bill was
only fifteen
At tho time o. tho war, as likely boy as ever
this world has seen;
An what with the news o. battles lost the
speeches an oil the noise,
guess every farm in the neighborhood lost q
part OF its crop o. boys.
Twas harvest time when Bill left home; every
stalk in the fields o. rye
Seemed to stand tip-toe to see him of an wave
him fond good-bye;
His sweetheart was here with some other girls
the sassy little missi
An pretcndin' she wanted to whisper'n his ear
she gave him rousln' kiss.
Oh, he was hans some feller, an tender an
brave an smart,
An though he was bigger than was, the boy
had woman's heart.
lcouldn't control my feelings, but tried with
allmy might,
An his mother an me stood a-cryin' till Bill
was out o. sight
His mother she often told him when she knew
he was goin' away
That God would take care o. him, maybe, II he
didn't forget to pray;
An on the bloodest battle-fields, when bullets
whizzed in the air,
An Bill was a-flghtin' desperit he used to whis-
per prayer.
Oh, his comrades has often told me that Bin
never llnched bit
When every second n gap in the ranks told
whore n ball had hit.
An one night when the field was covered with
the awful harvest o. war,
They found my boy 'mongst the marty's o. the
cause he was lghtIn' for
His fingers were clutched in the dewy grass-O,
no sir, he wasn't dead,
But he lay sort o. helpless an crazy with rifle
ball in his head;
An IL Bill had really died that night I'd give all
I've got worth givin';
?or ye see the bullet had killed his mind an
left his body livln'.
An Officer WROTE and told us how the boy had
been hurt In the fight,
But he said that the doctors reckoned they
could bring him around all right.
And then we heard from q neighbor, disabled
NJ Malvern Hill,
That he thought in the course of n week or SO
he'd be comm home with Bill.
We was that anxTons t see him we'd set up an
talk o. nights
Til the break % day had dimmed the stars an
put out tho northern lights;
We waited an watched for n month or more an
the summer was nearly past,
When a letter came one day that they'd started
for homo at last.
I'll never forgit the day Bill came-'twas har-
vest time again
An the air blown over the yellow fields was
sweet with the scent o. the grain;
The dooryard was full o. the neighbors, who had
come to share our JOY,
An all ofus sent up mighty cheer at the sight
O. that soldier boy.
An all OF sudden somebody said: "My God
don't the boy know his mother?''
An Bill stood n-whisperin', fearful like, an
starin' from one to another;
Don't be afraid, Bill" said he to himself, as
he stood in his coat o. blue.
"Why, God'Ll take care o. you, Bpl, Godl
take care O. you"
He seemed to be loadin' and nrln' gun, an &c
act like n man who hears,
The awful roar o the battlefield a-soundin IL
his ears;
saw that the bullet had touched his brain ant
somehow made IL blind,
With the picture o. war before his eyes an tn,
fear O. death in his mind.
graspcd his hand, an says to Bill, Don't y,
remember me!
Tn yer father-don't We know met How fright
ened ye seem to ber'
But the boy k.p' whsperin to himself as
twas all he knew,
"God'll take care o. you, Bill, Godll take car
O. you"
He's never known US since that day, nor hi
sweetheart, an he never will;
Father an mother an sweetheart all th
same TO Bill.
An many's the time his mother sets up tn
whole night through
An smooths mis- head, and says: yes Bill
GodlI take care O. you"
Unfortunits Yes but we can't complain. tt
livin death more sad
When the body clings to life O. shame an tn
soul has gone to the bad;
An Bill is out o the reach o. harm an danger
every kind.
We only take care of his body. but God tnlze
care o. his mind.
Irving Bachelor, in N. Y. Independent.