Year: 1862

er, now perfectly deaf. As he slowly opened
his sunken eyes, he recognized me. And
when | said, " have been looking for you
but did not expect to find you here" he gasp.
ed, 80, We have moved half a dozen times
since they took US from the blick house on
the hill. tits killing me to lie on the ground.
wish was at home, and my poor brother
Then his sunken eyes closed, and he sank in
to death-like lethargy. from which it was
too late to rouse him. One must be made Of
such stuff as one-half of our conceited boy
army surgeons, to gaze on such sight un-
moved, without making an effort for its allie
Walton. One perpetual cough knelled from
the ground, from one end of these long tents
to the other. One young man low with the
typhoid fever, said: "You remember l was
almost we'll when they took US from the brick
house on the hill. should have been able
to have done duty in day or two. But they
laid me on the ground, took cold, and now
| shall never be WELL"


/ 1t was most piteous to see the wasted
hands thrust out from under the blanket,
holding the battered, black tin cup which
each one keel within reach, and to mark the
nervous twitching of the skeleton face, while
its owner asked for baked apple, or, Mad
am, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, would
you be so kind as to bring me spoonful of
broth tomorrow How many times have
carried broth to find the one who vainly
thought he could drink it yesterday, lying,
not under the sod, but under the stones of
a soldiers grave! Every morning l miss a
face that moved me with sorrow yesterday.
A little wider space on the ground between
two still bresthing bodies, forsaken blank
ct, a worn knapsack which the aching head
needs no longer for pillow, tells the story,
Without coffin, wrapped in his overcoat, he
lies under the stones of yOnder hill, where
they laid him without tear and without
PRAYER. l am thinking Of one especially now,
though rot but one among thousands. He
was sharpshooter," a Massachusetts man,
resident of Salem. How patient. how
cheerful, how grateful he was! How he suf-
fered and how he died. Sometimes, some
kind comrade, some thoughtful nurse, some
tender woman, if such be near, write to the
bereaved at home, recording the parting
messages and death of father, the husband
or the brother. But, alas, they die so fast,
and are buried so quickly, no note at all is
taken of their departure. A" boy is dead.
Hundreds more in these very tents will die
this week; what for one? What for one in
the home that cherished him ?


A carte de risite of a young soldier, a
beautiful boy of sixteen, noble enough to be
the pride of the proudest house, fair and
bright enough to be the darling of any moth
er's heart, has been passing from hand to
hand in these tents for several days. Here
he died week ago. No one knows where
he is buried, nor where live his friends
No record was made of his death. But the
one beside his blanket said that he died, and
that this is his picture In the registers Of
flee We searched for his knapsack, hoping
therein to find the name of his mother
There was closet filled with the knapsacks
of dead soldiers. How eloquent their con-
tents! There was the soldiers cap, perhaps
soldiers change of garments. There was
the camp knife and spoon and perhaps a
pipe. There little bible, two or three da-
guerreotypes. and small package of we'll
worn letters; treasures of heart now pulse
| less and still, heart whose throbbin gsceas-
ed far from that love which seems to send
light into the valley of death for the lowliest
one.


/ DIR Palmer the new chief surgeon, has Just
arrived. He finds upoh his hands nineteen
hundred and fifty sick, with accommodations,
wretched at that, for just six hundred. He
finds every department in confusion, filled
with cupable neglect and wickedness. He is
humane. He sympathizes with these suffer-
ing soldiers; he is working night and day to
Lring some sembance of comfort out of this
chaos. But shame on you officers, in your
commodious apartments, shame on you by
your comfortable fires, shame on You exhib-
iting yourselves on your prancing horses,
spurred and gloved and cleaning with gold,
while at the foot of the hill lie nineteen hun
dreG of the men who fight for their country,
dying on the ground! M.c.A.
The Sequel to Reyerdy JOhnsOn's Inter.
ventiOn.


The Government some time ago sent Rev
erdy Johnson of Maryland to investigate
certain complaints against Gen Butler, with
power to correct some of his alleged mis-
takes. One thing that Johnson did was to
order the restoration of the 100000 seized
by Gen Butler on the premises of the French
consul Recent events have nroyed that