The suburban citizen., 1902-07-26
Il LILLIAN PARSONS, Com.
NJ pany E, Eighteenth United
~ States Infantry, was the en-

try in the hospital register,
He occupied a cot in Ward 10, together
with thirty other wounded soldiers
representing nearly every regular regi-
ment in the Fifth Army Corps Many
of them were seriously wounded, one
was shot through the neck. several
through the body, while others had
been mangled by the terrible shrapnel
But of all the wounded, Bill Parsons
was the only one who could not live.
AT least, so the surgeons and nurses
said, and as the regulars, through long
experience. had learned TO put faith
in what the surgeons told them, they
not infrequently forgot their wounds
and looked over toward the white
screen which sheltered Bills cot, and
muttered something which sounded
like Poor Bill" or remarked that it
was a blank shame that such a good
soldier should be obliged to give up his
life to the bullet of a miserable dago.
And Bill was a good soldier--a good
regular-and when you have said that
you can say no more. His bronzed
face, with its deeply marked lines, be-
spoke dangers and hardshps and his
hair and beard were grizzled. Fight
ing was an old story to Bill Parsons.
He had hunted Captain Jack and his
Modoc Indians; he had fought the Utes.
Geronimo and his Apaches. and he had
been with Miles at Pine Ridge. Thirty
years in the regular army was his rec
ord and private was the only title that
had ever been affixed 10 his name. If
he lived, however, and decided to stay
in the army, he would stand an excel
lent chance of being called sergeant.
for his Colonel had seen him when he
seized the colors from the dead SER
geant's hand and carried them far out
on the firing line on the hillside Of Ell
Caney.
He had had but few conscious mo-
ments since leaving Siboney They did
not think he would live to make the
voyage, but as he was breathing when
the Seneca began to load with wound
ed for the first trip north he was put
aboard with the rest. And in due time
be was in the cool, clean ward at Belle
yue 1t was a hard fight for life. but
Bill was a good fighter. and he won.
Weeks passed. The wound in the
head had healed. but the terrible Gu
ban fever and the shock of his wound
weakened his body and sapped the lit
tie that remained Of his great strength.
His bunkies had already begun to leave
their cots and TO gather on the sunny
balcony where they smoked their corn.
cob pipes and swapped bandiage and
stories, but Bill still tossed and
moaned on his cot. Sometimes he
would open his eyes and look about
him in amazement He wondered
where he was, and thought it might be
the Fort Custer barracks until he
looked through an open window and
caught a glimpse OF the slate colored
waters of the East River and the green
stretch Of the hospital grounds sloping
down to meet them. Maybe it was
fairyland or heaven. He wondered
who the sweet-faccd woman standing
by the next cot could be, and he mar.
veled that she should spend so much
time in feeding its occupants with fruit
and ices. If some one would only feed
him. He seemed TO have a vague i'm.
preston that something had softly
stroked his forehead while he slept
He thought that possibly it might have
been some Of the angels whom he used
TO believe guarded over those who
sleep, and then he smiled foolishly and
told himself that he had probably
dreamed it. And then the windows
darkened, the sky grew black. the
ward and its occupants faded away.
and he sunk into the first sweet sleep
since he was wounded.
Meanwhile the regulars and nurses
lad come to look for the arrival of a
stout sweet-faced woman with specta.
cles and gray hair
Yes, ma'am," they would say, "he's
little better to-day" And then she
would smile and 20 over to BilPs cor.
ner, and If he was asleep she would
sit down on the edge of his cot and
smooth out the rumpled hair and bathe
bis temples with ice water. II his eyes
were open she would pass by. But
whether he was asleep or awake she
would always leave a jar of Jelly or
some fruit on the little table by the
head of his cot. She left Jelly with the
other soldiers, too, but she never sat
beside them or bathed their TEMPLES
perhaps it was because Bill looked so
sick and so old.
Bill never slept so soundly as now.
and be often dreamed that some beau.
tiful being guarded over his slumbers.
And once his dream seemed so real
that he awoke, but he did not open his
eyes because a soft hand was passing
over his aching forehead. It was not
the surgeons hand nor the nurses. He
was familiar with their touch. He
knew 1t was a woman's hand or an an.
gers Qnite as likely one as the other,
thought Bill. He did not open his eyes
until the hand ceased to battle his fore
head. 1t was early in the afternoon.
he knew because the suns rays shone
In neither the eastern nor the western
windows. Thereafter he always kept