The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1897-05-02

OF age. Nlel ST. expected 10 JOIN jim III
Canada, but before that time came our
country was involved In the terrible con-
tlict of the civil war.
".
All of US remember those awful days of
excitement. and Hal, my darling brother
Hal, ran away and enlisted before any OF
US knew that he intended doing so. Just be-
fore he went a letter had been received
from Jim saying that he was on his way to
the South to join his brethren in the mighty
struggle.
The weary months dragged by and slowly
formed themselves into the years. Eighteen
hundred and sixty-four had come and was
well advanced toward the fall when all
news suddenly stopped from Hal. Our anx-
iety was dreadful, but the passing days
brought US no relief. At last father went
himself to the South, unable to longer en-
dure the terrible suspense. but although he
spent weeks in the search he could obtain
no news, and eturned home an old broken
hearted man. The sorrow wore harder on
him than on mother and me. He was soon
too feeble to leave his chair, and sat in the
old armchair before the brick oven nursing
his sorrow and refusing to be comforted.
He seemed to be only waiting for the sum-
mons.
through her tears: Something seems to
tell me, Nellie, that my boy is alive. l cam
not mourn MIN as QoaO. NV only I6dT IS
that he is in one OF the dreadful Southern
prisons" and through my binding tears |
would kiss her wan face and tell her that
l hoped for the best.
Dena had her troubles. too. No word
had come from Jim for many weeks, but
she hoped against hope that he wa yet
alive. She was so hopeful for his safety
and for Halls that / could not help but be
cOmforted.
warm, lovely March days, very much like
soft May days, and still no news had been
received. Father was very feeble; he still
came to the table, but the doctor said that
he would not see the early summer. He
was dying of a broken heart, and for that
there was no cure,
We had assisted him to the supper table
and mother was pouring the tea, when our
dog ran to the road barking loyfully, and at
wheels at the east door. Go and see who
it is. Dena," said mother. Nellie is busy.
She opened the door, and with a Sobbing
cry Of oh! Massey Hal and Jim! Dress de
LORI she ran down the steps. Mother
turned pale, and father. for the first time
in months, rose from his chair and went
to the door alone, and fell senseless in the
arms of a tall young soldier, who was no
other than my brother, my own brother
Hal. come back to us once more. And
Dena, she was clinging, sobbing and laugh
ing. to a young colored man, whom / easily
recognized as the fugitive Jim.
And motherl cannot tell what she did.
Her great joy at seeing her son was tenn
pered with anxiety for her husband. but
when quiet was at last restored. and father
had come to himself, Hal told us his story.
1t was simple enough. AS it had hap
pened, the colored regiment in which Jim
was fighting was under the same command
with Halls regiment, and the two, Hal and
Jim, had met each other by accident at the
close of the first days fight. and each had
agreed to look out for the other after the
next days battle.
Hal. who was on picket duty, was Sc
verely wounded early in the light, and left
for dead on the field, while the fight ragged
furiously a few miles from him.
The battle was decided late in the day.
| and Him who had fortunately pSCanpd
without a scratch, began his search for Hal.
For hours he searched among the dead
was about to return to his regiment he saw
the figure of a wounded man slowly crawl
ing from behind a clump of trees. Al
though very weary. Jim went to him to of
fer assistance, when, to his great joy, he
discovered that it was Hal, wounded almost
to death. but still struggling for life.
The battle had occurred near Jim's old
home, and taking Hal in his arms he made
his way to 9 negro cabin near by and pre-
vailed upon the people to take him in
charge. Then he returned to his regiment,
and for weeks saw him no more.
At last, in a desperate hand to hand
struggle, Jim himself was severely wound
ed and left on the field for dead, where he
was found by negroes living near the bat
tleield and cared for until well again. Not
knowing where his regiment was. he made
his way to the cabin where he had left Hal,
and found him barely we'll enough TO leave
his shelter for his rcgiment again. AS soon
as it was possible Hal made his way to his
old command and received an honorable
dlSCIldl &c dH DClAlS QIfll LOI lLG uuty ,
then he and Jim started for the North.
That was the happiest evening of our
lives. and father and mother thanked Jim
over and over again for saving Halls life,
but he modestly disclaimed all praise, say
ing that he was but paying an honest debt
of gratitude to us. Then came the story
of the brick oven, which they heard for
the first time, and at it's close Jim tried to
show the folks how he had crawled into it,
but found that he had grown almost too
stout for the oven to be a hiding place for
him again. Father could not say a word,
but listened intently, while the tears cours-
ing down his Withered cheeks told of the
thoughts within. Mother said something
about casting bread upon the waters; then,
taking Dena by the hand, she led her to
Jim and said:
Take her, Jim, she is yours. | have no
further claim upon her but that of graft
tude. And God will bless you. | know, for
what you have done, for in saving my son
you have also saved my husband, and"
She could say no more, but L think that he
understood.
This all happened years ago. Father and
mother are still living on the Old place,
aged people, but well for their years. Hal
and l are settled near the old home, which
lame and far from being healthy, yet he
never regrets the years he gave to his coun-
try.
After the South became settled Jim and
Dena returned to their old home, and he
is one of the leading cOlored men in his
State. The sight of the brick oven always
brings him to mind. 1t is the most cher
ished part of the house, and father tells all
visitors its story.
Lizzie D.. Jewett, in Springfield Repub-
lican.