Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-05-30
General Grants Contribution.
HIS SADDEST.

1t was in field hospital within whose
canvas walls many of our brave boys lay
wounded and dying. Among them were
two comrades who were more nearly like
Damon and Pythias than any other two
men I ever knew in real life. They had
been born and bred in the same town, had
enlisted at the same time, and had never
been separated for moment since they first
donned Uncle Sans blue uniform. I am
sure that either would have gladly laid
down his life for the other. They had both
been slightly wounded before, the one hav-
ing received bayonet thrust in the left
arm, and the other having had the index
and middle fingers of his right hand shot
away.
Now, as they lay side by side, however,
their injuries were of a much more serious
character. The surgeon looked very grave
as he turned from one to the other, and the
gravity of his expression deepened as he
concluded his second examination. Then
as was his custom-for he held it
a physicians duty to always inform
patient of the true state of his case-be
told them plainly, but not without feeling,
that they both had but very few minutes
to live. "All right" said one family but
firmly, eve will die together as I always
hoped we would"
'I want to go if Tom goes" murmered
the other. 'Give me your hand, dear old
boy" he continued, and he reached out his
left hand toward his comrade.
The dying man grasped the extended
hand, but finding it whole and unnamed
he cast it from him saying ''No, no! not
that handl want the one that was partly
shot away on the battlefield"
His comrade extended his wounded hand,
and Tom, his eyes fast glazing in death,
clasped it and felt for the stumps of the
missing fingers.
''This is the hand want" he exclaimed
and raising it to his lips his spirit passed
without struggle. His friend, by a great
exertion, raised his head and looked at his
comrade. Seeing that he was no more he
uttered loud cry, and the two friends were
reunited.
HIS FUNNIEST.
There is no better, more fearless or more
loyal soldier than old Jack Dublin, but he
had one fault, and that was an overweening
fondness for the whisky bottle, or rather for
its contents. He had boon companion
whose real name never knew, but every
one called him Uncle ST. While in camp
old Jack was taken i'll of q fever and, de-
spite the unremitting attentions of Uncle
81, died. The corpse developed an unusual
rigidity, after death, and strange ten
dency to fly up into sitting posture. Ac-
cordingly on the night before its burial it
was stretched out at full length upon a
board resting upon two wooden trestles,
with its head and feet tied down by ropes.
Old Uncle 81 insisted upon watching the
remains'of his dead friend Shortly after
midnight he became very thirsty, and
stepped out to neighboring suffers to pro-
cure drink. During his somewhat pro-
tracted absence two large cats found their
way to the tent containing the remains of
old Jack, and when Uncle 81 returned he
was naturally indignant at seeing these
felines sitting on the corpse-one at the
head, the other at the feet.
Seizing billet of wood from the ground
he aimed a powerful blow with it at the
pussy sitting near the head. 1t missed its
mark and struck and severed the rope hold
ing down the head of the corpse, which i'm
mediately flew into sitting posture. Seiz-
ing the dead man by the shoulders and fore
ing him back into recumbent position,
Uncle 81 exclaimed in an aggrieved tone:
''Darn We, old man, lie down and keep quiet
I'll attend to the cats" q. S. GRANT.