The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1903-03-12

without any consciousness of injury. When
the end comes, they collapse without know
ing why
And these boys?"
Have been for more than two months
doing the most prodigious things that sol
dlers ever did i'm the history of the world.
Every one in Sherman's army has. They
have been running races with one another,
struggling which could do the most and
endure the most hardships. So long as
they were in the interior of the enemy's
country. with the enemy constantly be-
lore and lighting them, and could keep up
full head of steam. they were all right.
6ut the moment the enemy is whipped and
driven off completely. the reaction comes,
and with it a collapse. Even the brightness
ana hope of the Spring morning, so differ
ent from the previous weather. aids in the
collapse. Every man in this house is suf-
tering from this, and there is nothing to
be done except to watch and wait. 1t al
ways comes after every campaign and af-
ter every battle. Men overtax themselves,
and after the victory collapse and die of
like flies
The Deacon shuddered and walked out
again into the bright sunshine, to watch
the tumultuous but well-ordered life in
hundreds of regimental camps.
There followed days of weary. sickening
watching. beside pallets on which the men
Sroaned and tossed, their lips parched
with the intolerable burning their bright
unseeing eyes wandering from one point
to another. hooking the gay sunshine that
everywhere else was filling the world with
deilcions life Even upon their ears fell
unheeded the gay shouts of their comrades
and the duty-compelling notes of the bugie
ana drum calling away to the chase of
'Iohnston's shattered army to its last fast
ness.
Daily, hourly, it seemed, to the sad
hearted Deacon. the fierce fever burned
away the strong muscles which carried the
boys triumphantly through South Caro-
lima. and their. limbs grew more shrunken
and their faces more drawn and pinched.
In vain Otterbein Kramer drawing
from the dainties which the Deacon had
brought down. prepared the most appetiz-
ing broths and delicate dishes. The boys
would yield to the opportunities of him
and the Deacon, sip or nibble little, and
then push him weariedly away.
Leave me alone. Don't bother me. Go
away" 81 and Shorty would murmur, and
close their eyes in exhaustion.
Late one afternoon the Deacon, sadder
of face than anyone had even seen him,
was seated at table in the room the Sur
geon had taken for his office, with a stubby
pencil in his hand, and a bunch of tele-
graph blanks in front of him. His coat
was off. his sleeves rolled up, and his
shock of hair badly rumpled He looked
at the end of his resources, and determined
upon something extraordinary. He wrote
slowly and laboredly; biting at one end
of the pencil and wetting the other in his
mouth at every word. and this appeared:
"Goldsboro. n. c.. March g. 1865
Mrs. Josiah Klegg, Beanblossom Crick
Station. Injianny.
''Si and Shorty very bad. Come on at
once. Go to Abeton and get the money
for my hogs.
'IOSIAH KLEGG"
'His mother and Gods help is all that
can pull him through" he murmured as
he walked over to the telegraph Office with
the dispatch. ''Mebbe Annabel will come
with her. There's money enough for
both"
''Sure that there's nothing contraband
in this?" asked the operator. scanning the
words closely, and giving the Deacon a
searching look. SIT reads very blind
What's this about money for hogs, and so
on?"
''Young man, if You won't be response
BILE for the lives of two of the best SOL
diers in this army send that dispatch at
once, just as it is wrote" said the Dea-
con. in such an impressive voice. that the
operator was convinced, and clicked the
dispatch Off
To be continued)