The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1891-06-26

II had been in several hard fought fights,
before. but they were all children's pas.
time compared with that of yesterday.
No sooner had we come in sight of the
enemy than the ringing voice of tho
general was heard: AT them. my boys,
and do your dutyr What happened
after that l know not. Know not. do I
say? Oh would it were true that I
knew not! Begrimed with dust, each
man was confronted with his own indi-
vidual foe; and if there be fighting
among fiends, then surely did our fight
ing resemble theirs. / was myself
wounded, when a fair haired man bore
down upon me from the opposing line, if
line it could then be called, and re-
ceived his headlong onset with terrific
bayonet thrust and as he fell l thought
of Cain, and of that deed which has
made the name of Cain n name of male
diction for ever. l know not why. but I
felt myself to halt in the midst of the
melee. to kneel beside that fair haired
man and look at him. I turned him
over, and looked upon his face--his dear,
dead face. All! mother, it was-it was
my brothers face, and my own arm had
slain hint"
The scene at that moment il would not
be easy to describe. In an instant the
weeping mothers tears were dry and her
face became passionless as marble. My
knowledged, I took no pains to conceal.
Rough, hard favored soldiers standing by
listened with bated breath to this more
than tragic narrative, while big tear
drops welled from their eyes unchecked
and undisguised.
"Yes, he continued, solUoquising. "my
own arm had slain him. Dear, darling
brother Fred! laid my face upon his,
and it was cold-that face which in our
boyhood seemed but the mirror of my
own; ever near meat home, at school,
at meat and at play-which laughed
when / was glad, and wept when / was
sorrowful. Oh. would we both had died
in those fresh bright days of innocence.
/ kissed his pallid lips; looked into his
eyes, but in them was no responsive
glance. He was dead. had slain him!
The very thought was burning madness
in my brain. | needed not the carnage
around me. l thought not of my own
wounds.s / even knew not when my arm
was gone. Oh, the arm that had done
such deed deserved to perish. Forgive
me. Oh! my brother! How gladly would
/ give my life to bring back thine againl
Stay, friends; do not shut out the blessed
light. Let in the light. / can
not see my dear mother - Fred,
sweet brother, put up your sword, and
let us play with flowers once more upon
this pleasant grass.
And so he passed away-to join his
brother let us hope, in land where
bloom the flowers that never fade, where
strifes and wars are unknown, and where
the mysteries and misunderstanding of
our present state are dispelled by the
light that never dies.
Reverence for the childless mothers
grief, as well as the many voiced call of
duty, prevented my making at the
moment the inquiries which thronged
my mind both as to the history of this
strangely sorrow smitten family, and the
means by which the poor mother had
come to know of her sons condition and
whereabouts. | have often since tried
to trace her: but the search has always
been fruitless. They certainly belonged
to the better class of society and think
it likewise certain that they were
Southerners. The younger brother
which l took him to be-whose sad mar
rative is here given, had probably resided
for some time in the North, and becom-
ing imbued with the sentiments and
opinions which charged the atmosphere
around him, found himself eventually in
the ranks. In a word, look upon tho
whole episode as one of those awful
condolences of fate which are generally
thought to take place only in the pages
of romance, but which pretty wide
experience has taught me to believe are
by no means infrequent among the I'M
recorded realities of life.