Year: 1865

it. l was always proud of Frank; he
the prince of men to me but now l was
prouder of him than ever before.


1 was but the bride of a summer when
he marched away. The harvest was ripe
and the leaves were browning. He kissed
me again and again as we stood under the
porch by the door, and l smiled cheerful
smile of adieu to him, and struggled to
hide from him the quivering of my lips.
Then he walked briskly away down the
garden path, passed out the gate, and
waved his gilded hat to me from the road
and when he was so far away that he
could not see me weep leaned against
pillar and gazed long after him through
the binding rain of unavailing tears.


l used to get such cheering letters from
my hero. He found 50 many amusing
things to write about in his new life, and
seemed to relish so we'll the novelty and
hardihood of the camp! He would de-
scribe to me the minutest particulars of his
surroundings, tell me what he ate and how,
where he slept and how, and draw for me
such photographs of the scenes in which
he moved, that soon lost my foolish habit
of picturing him lying bleeding on the
cold battle fields, alone with the watch
ing stars and the long night. Instead of
this soon began sharing his dissatistac-
ton at having nothing to do through the
long winter, and looked forward to the
spring with his longing vision, and learn
ed to glory in my husbands strength as he
himself did, and to feel certain that all
perils must yield before the power of his
arm. Our boy was born that winter, too,
and in him found an object on which to


pour out the love Of my heart, and a COM


panion to make the time pass away.


The spring came, and in the battle OF


Fair Oaks my husband was taken prisoner,


They shut him up in that fearful prison at


Richmond and murdered him by inches.


Long months rolled away My boy grew


till he could run about the house and play


with Carlo in the yard and every day he
seemed to grow more like his father, with


his fresh round cheeks red with bloom,


and his merry blue eye and ringing laugh.


Last October they brought my husband


home. Oh, what a pititul semblance OF


the man who waved his gilded cap TO Inc


form the road as stood in the porch that


September morning so long ago. They
left him alone in the parlor to wait for me,
for | had tainted at the sight of him from
the window-my darling Frank-thi:


skeleton with shrunken limbs and gha>tly
fallen cheek and dull eyes, Could it be
he7 Only when entered the parlor where
he sat. and behind the clustering black
. hair that shaded his white forehead, coul,
I see aught of the man ! had married il
that May night when the odor of the ap


pie blooms was in the air. He looked or
me so pitifully, and raised his wan hand


as if to embrace me- flew to his breast


and kissed his white cheek and colorlcs:
lips with despair in my heart, for knew
he had ''come home to die


'.Is this my husband!" murmured il


tone of awe, as | looked upon TIN
strange, strange face.


! "ThiS is what they have left of him,
! said he, family; and | hid my face in hi
7 bosom.


: '.Where is my boy?" smoothing IN,
p hair with his bOny hand.


t | went for Frank, and held him u
e while his father wrapped him up in hi
V arms. The little fellow looked into tn
: white and bearded face with straight
f earnest gaze, and then his eyes filled wit
tears, and his ips began to culver but
: was with pity, not with childish fear, to
0 he put his little hand to his fathers mout


caressingly and said Papa sick
: Next day the doctor came He sat a
IS hour with Frank prescribed cheertulnes
l and generous food instructed me in tn
y duties Of my new office as nurse, for
Is would have no other; pressed Frank
e hand cordially and left the room. to
e lowed him to the door.


e "How long can he live?" asked.
d The doctor shook his head.


9 "All will depend on the care of hin
J. Mrs. Moreton. With such care as knO'
y you will give him, he may survive mont
" or even two He has had hard TIM
,e Damn the Williams! They'd be torn
m pieces like carrion, if l had my way wit
e them"


When went back to Frank, he aske
[ me what the doctor said.


fe :"Don't conceal anything from m
If dear wife," said he. "There is no nec'
10 | have been on familiar terms with deaf
1t for many months. am ready to CO."
ut Then l told him, and he smiled
e. There was peculiar light in his eyes al
,g he turned them on me, and said:
hs Mary, l shall live till spring"
II. 1t was October then. So many mont
he of life yet! 1t seemed like a pricele
w boon. Nearly half year to live! O
ar what world of love should be crowd
as into that time And l believed him, to
en- don't know why, but l did.


lie The winter rolled by slowly, but he d


not die. Sometimes l would feel a wi
to hope that he would recover, and he wou
1t see it shining in my eyes, and would SIN
and shake his head in answer to the u
he, spoken thought.


lat "1n the spring. he said very often,
ar. in the spring shall die


his The spring came too soon. The rob-
ice began to sing in the sunshine-the st;