Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1899-03-02
The Little Soldier.

Somebody's darling, so young and so
Wearing vet on his pale, sweet face,
Soon to be hid by the dust of the grave,
The lingering light of his boyhood's
grace"
| saw him when they sent his
regiment home to be mustered out
those tired, wan-faced boys who
had been kept so long in waiting
down in that death hole, Chicka-
manga.
Many of them had left comforta-
BILE homes, only to undergo the
hardshlps of camp life, and return
at last. those who were left-with-
out the chance their restless hearts
had hoped for, to distinguish them
selves-weak, broken, disappointed.
Only one who was there, or those
who have heard from the soldiers
own lips can have any idea of the
heartless and needless hardship
and suffering they were forced to
undergo at Chickamauga, it was
cruel, cruel, shameful, and they
dared not rebel.
1t was in Omaha that l saw them
as they came slowly marching into
camp there, not one Of them scarce
seeming strong enough to carry
|
thetic, pinched and hungry look in
all their faces that touched our
hearts. Nearly all of them were
blue eyed boys, and blue eyes are
always so heart rendin9 when their
owner is weary and sick.
The little soldier! | saw him alone
afterward, sitting on the platform
Of the depot waiting for the same
train that was to take me home. His
face was strangely beautiful and
childlike, and | wondered how one
so young as he could get into the
army. He had sunlit hair and sad,
sweet, yearning eyes, with the look
of that other world in their blue
depths. and | felt that the angels
were not affair to claim him. Mo- one
seemed paying any notice to the
lonely, blue clad figure sitting
there, the impatient crowd jostled
around him and almost unheeding
would have trampled him under
foot. l saw it all, and wondered
no one stopped or even smiled into
that tired, homesick young face
which so deeply and tenderly APP
pealed to my sympathies at once.
| went over to him and spoke to
him. He smiled, sudden glad,
bright, eager, grateful smile that
illurnined his face like the glory
of an angela smile that 1 shall
never forget. He spoke in a weak
voice and so low l had to bend my
head to catch his words, "I'll be so
glad when l get home where 1 can
rest" he said. Involuntarily 1
thought of that other home where
there is only perfect rest, but
knew that he referred to his home
here. docs your mother know?"
| asked, and for moment l feared
to catch his answer lest he might
is, she doesn't know I'm sick, but
she knows Pm going home. I got
furlough from the hospital; they're
not quite ready to discharge us yet.
She let me go though. l am her
only boy now and father died be-
fore | went. He had been soldier,
Capt. Burton" "OW 1 remember
hearing of the sad death of Capt
Burton who died of heart disease,
when the news of the Maine disaster
reached him for his eldest son had
been one of the big ships Inflated
crew. 1 thought of the sorrowine
mother at home whose grief was so
like that of Mrs. Capron with whom
the nation universally sympathizes
and my heart bled for her. AT last
the tardy train pulled up, and when
l had seen that the little soldier
was comfortably seated, l sat down
thinking of that old Bible story
when Jesus was here, about the
young. man who "was the only son
of his mother and she was widow
l know the time seemed long to
the waiting boy, but he was very
patient and at length the old train
stopped at the small station where
the little soldier lived. looked out
of the window as he went down the
steps and saw there a crowd who
was expecting him. The band was
playing and people were waving
flags and cheering as he tottered
, toward a black robed figure stand
ing there, a striking picture, with a
face as beautiful as heaven, waiting
for her boy. The train was moving
on, but | saw her clasp her baby
closely to her breast with a look Of
mute and piercing agony in he,
; glorious face that made me tremble