Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1893-04-21
"WHISTLING WILL" !"


DR.. Rhoades and l were sitting on
the piazza at the close of hot summer
day. Although he had been with us
only week, he and were great
friends. l had heard often of him
before, but on account of his busy
professional life, he had been unable
to accept my fathers many invita-
tions.
AT last, worn out by his work. he
was forced to take rest, and had
written that he would be pleased to
visit us at our country home.
My father hardly ever told any of
his experiences in the army during
the war without bringing in "Joe
Rhoades." as he called him. Doctor
Rhoades had been an assistant surgeon
then.
"Well, yes, just one short one," he
answered as he looked into my eager
face.
"There had been fearful carnage
that day and the surgeons were very
busy. Body after body was brought
In, aud those that could be helped
were sent to the operating room.
Those past our help were sent to the
deadhouse.
"Late In the afternoon one body
was brought in which, even amid that
scene, made me tremble. 1t was that
of brave fellow, schoolmate of
mine, who had enlisted at the very
opening of the war. He was happy
hearted fellow, bright in the darkest
hours, and continual whistler. Be-
fore he could be seen, his clear,
strong notes were heard, and the men
knew that 'Whistling Will was COM
ing.
"The surgeon examined him and
said, We'll, Bill, you have whistled
your last tune,' and hurried to the
next. 1t seemed impossible that we
never should hear his cheerful. voice
again. l hotice that he was not mu-
tilated in any way, and thought that
he had probably been killed by fall
from his horse.
"His body was carried to the dead
house, but-and here comes the strange
part-as he was being taken from the
room, suddenly and distinctly l heard
B3ll's familiar whistle, Cheer up,
comrades. and be gay just as it had
sounded as he marched to his death
that morning. / looked about to see
if any one else had noticed it. Every
Ole was absorbed in the confusion and
suffering around him. I said moth
ing.
"About eight o'clock that night the
surgeon sent me for some stimulapts
to the steward. l passed the dead
house, which was nothing more than a
large shed with door at each end, SO
that one could pass from one end to
the other, between the rows of corpses
on each side. AS neared the place,
again came the whistle, family, in a
kind of minor undertone, sCheer up,
comrades and be gay When passed
the door, l hesitated; somehow
wanted to go in, but remembering
that had been sent on an errand,
passed on; again came the same re-
frain, each word sounding very dis
tinctly, and apparently right beside
my ear. By this time felt little
queer, but tried to Danish my fear,
by attributing them to over-wrought
nerves.
"f started on brisk walk to the
surgeon, determined not to be a foo
any longer. Two-thirds of the long
building were passed, when, hark
the same notes again, still fainter thar
before. Beads of cold perspiratior
stood on my forehead when entered
the surgeons headquarters, but sale
nothing.
81 worked necessarily until clever
o'clock, with the memory of that re
frain before me all The time. At half
past eleven l threw myself on my
cot, which was placed beside q window
ut the extreme end of a narrow
! Sorridor. Thoroughly exhausted,