Year: 1864

from whose farther shore comes back no
echo.


The morning came at length, and with
it the hour which was to decide his fate.
Firmly he insisted upon sending his mother
away. The moment there was any fear
of death he told her she should be called (;
in the meantime he was resOlute to spare
her the sight Of his suffering. She resist
ed for while, then yielded to the force of
his will. She never could have known
worse torture, however, than her waiting.
Was it for hours or mOments--she could
never tell-that she sat there with shut
eyes and clasped hands waiting for her
summons.


At last the Assistant Surgeon touched
her arm.


"He has borne the operation, Madame,
much better than we feared. We shall
save his leg, though he may always be a
little lame. His arm is Oft, and, accord
ing to present appearances, we think he
will get we'll. His courage will 60 a great
way-never groaned through the whole
of it."


She heard the words as one in a dream
-clutching at one thought. Her boy was
alive-likely to live. She tried to stand
and could not. She began to guess then
what the extent of the fear had been whose
reaction was so powerful and eXhausting
Soon she gathered again strength and
composure with the thought that he was
waiting for her, and then she went to him.
Then she knelt at his bedside, and felt his
left arm, all he had now, touch her neck.
The utmost eXertiOn of her self-cOntrOl
could not keep back sobs and tears.
Manned and halt, her brave boy, of whose
symmetry and strength she had been so
proud


She little knew what bitter, despairing
thoughts were struggling just then in his
heart. When it WAS all over he had just
begun to realize how strong had been his
unconscious hope to die. 1t would have
been 50 much better, he thought, this help
less, disfgured hulk, shut out BY fate from
manhood's work and woman's love. Her
passion of tears did him good. Remem-
bering how she loved him, he grew strong
to live for her sake. Very gently he
touched her hair as he said:


Mother, you would rather have me as
l. ttul lIldu lOG W nave i1lc db dll


How that question stilled her repini. gs. /.
How many mothers had given up their all
how many were weeping at that hour
mad, useless tears, which never thrilled
the cold foreheads of dead sens! She
had her boy with her still-she could
touch his lips-look into his eyes-he
could hear her when she spoke. What
had she to do with sorrow? What was it
to give an arm, and the grace of move
nent she had loved to watch, when still
she could keep her boy, her brave, true
boy?


Never had Captain Charley been so
true hero as when he put aside his own
sorrow, the downfall of his hopes, the
wound to his pride, and resolved to strive
to live not only, but to be cOntented with
life for her sake


In the days that followed, she nursed
him back to health again. Never after
that first hour, did either of them breathe
a single regret. They accepted life with
thankfulness, not protests, and | think at
last Captain Charley grew even to be glad
that he had been allowed to make his ga
crifice for his country so costly.


The last week of May she brought him
home. The apple trees were in flower,
full of pink whiteness of glorious bloom.
The fields about their country house were
green, and again, as when he went away,
roses and heiiotropes nodded in the open
windows, and the bird, trilling to old
memories of summer isles, trilled over
them q matinous jubilee of sweet sounds,
which the wild robins and gay orioles out
side strove longingly to emulate. And
so, amidst birds and flowers and sunshine,
Captain Charley sat down again at home.


"My work is over now," he said, glanc-
ing patiently, not sadly. at the empty
sleeve at his side.


perhaps God thought you were the
one mother, after all, who needed me the
most, and this was his way of sending me
back"