Year: 1862

From the Cincinnati Commercially


What shall | do to pass my time pleas
antly and useful? was the question / put
to myself after the last good bye' had
been spoken, the last kiss exchanged, and
the parting words of my husband had died
out of the now desolatc room, leaving
lingering echo in my heart which sounded
like desolation. 1t will never do to sit
down here idly, and brood in vain regret
his absence; and surely, if he thought |
should do nothing but pine and grieve for
him, it would add heavier weight than
now rests upon his mind, for then very
sore causes for trouble would rest upon him.
1t is enough, to feel that our dear country
calls fer him in her atiliction, and God 60
with him III her cause. should blush for
him if he held aloof now, nor offered him.
self in the full vigor and pride of his young
life, as shield against the arrows Of de-
struction which threaten her, and which
have already severed some of the brightest
links which united our beloved nation
And while lie has gone forth, brave in de-
fence of right and truth, shall | sit down
and cry like miserable, selfish child, be-
cause 1t cannot have the toy it loves best
always in its hand? No, no. That will
never do! l should never claim to be
daughter Of my proud, beautiful mother,
America, could for one moment be guilty
of such selfish weakness.


So ran my thoughts as | stood beside the
window, listening to the last clang and
clatter Of the bell on the boat which bore
him away.


Slowly it put off from the wharf, and
then up to God went as deep and fervent
prayer as ever wife breathed, for guidance
and safety. His last kiss was warm upon
my lips-his last words are ringing in my
ears-and soon, perhaps, that voice, with
its loving tones, might be forever hushed,
and the warm lips cold and mute, under
the icy seal of death Yet not for one
moment would I have recalled him, even
while | grew sick at heart, and heavy
dread strove to creep into my brain, driv-
ing away its usually hopeful and pleasing
fances.


1T is right and just,' murmured as I
turned away, 'and God will go with him.
| know what I shall do I shall 90 and
take care of the poor sick boys up at the
hospital


TO think with me is to act In mo-
ment my bonnet and cloak were donned,
and | was on my way with a light heart.
Are there any wives, mothers, or sisters
who will wonder how [ could feel light
hearted, when [ had just sent my husband
away to battle, perhaps never to see his
dear face again? l will tell you why
I trusted IN God and acas yielding to an
impulse to good deeds. I say good, be-
cause I was animated solely by the desire
to render assistance and relieve suffering,
and not for what other people think or say
of me.


On entering the hospital, l found the
attending physician, DR.. L, there,
and introduced myself.


Il have nothing to do said, and want
you to employ me. Can I render assis-
tance in any way%


Yes, madam was his prompt response.
IF you will come in sometimes and pre-
pare something nourishing, and talk to
them, to keep them in good spirits, we
shall be very glad


Il shall certainly do so. / am glad if |
can be of use.'


| laid aside bonnet and cloak, without
further ceremony, and went to the sickest
man | saw.