Year: 1862

III the Hospitals, is writing series of letters to
Mr D. NJ. Newby of Augusta, which are publish
! ed In the Constiutionalist, from one of which we
copy the following


ln taking my morning round through one of
the hospitals, ind in one of the wards youth of
more than ordinary beauty ai.i intelligence. His
name IS Wood the drummer boy, from Social Cir
Gle 7 Dung Wood was the pet and idol Of his
/ regiment. And he is struggling with pneumonia,
that terrible scourgc of the camp and the hospital


When asked whether he was afraid to die, he calm
ly answered. "No; joined the church when but
5 years OF age; my father and mother are both in
heaven, and L would rather 90 and be with them
! there: than to stay and suffer here" He was
beautiful in death-lovely as the fresh cut rose
bud, dripping with the dew of morning. Taking
his post in the centre of the long line of the dead
at Oak Wood, no sound Of his drum shall ever
awake the seepers there.


! Now go with me to another ward. On each Of
! the hunks stretched out i'll long rows across the
hospital building, is reeng the form of some
brave soldier There is one, who has just been
brought IN from the camp and placed on a comtOr
| table bed, with soft pillow beneath his head
| Tears are in his eyes, and his lips quiver from
some deep and pent up emotion within "What
will you have my trienI?'' | asked the sick
man, as drew near to his couch OF pain. "Noth-
ing, was his reply; Il was just thinking said
he ''of the cold hard ground where | lay sick liz
the camp, with my knapsack for pillow But
now have a warm bed and soft pillow, for my
weary limbs and aching head" He would have
added more but his words taltered, and refused to
come to his relief The change from the damp
aud cheerless pallet of the camp, to the warm and
comfort giving bed Of the hospital, Was too much
for him. The emotions Of noble heart, now al
ready filled to the brim and running over, found
vent in gush Of walm and grateful tears. While


looking on, was thinking that if cup Of cold
water, when given receives its reward what would
be the reward Of the dear good woman who sent
the poor soldier this bed and pillow. l looked
to see if | could find the name of the donor upon
them, but found lone. lie who sees in secret has


the recorded, and the fair donor will not lose
her reward.


Now we are in the third ward Near tho centre
Of the room, a tall fine looking man, with hair
aud beard neatly brushed, is reclining against a
chair and pillows placed upon his couch. He is
painting for breath. All things Indicate that death


Is surely doing its work. There, by lis side
shadow like is his wife, young and good looking
woman. She never leaves his side-day and night
watching every BREATH and pouring out her soul
in one continuous prayer for his recovery. Weari-
ed by long Watching, and thinking him rather bet
ter, she falls asleep at midni hit. We do not dis
turb her rest. In moment, the pulse ofthe sick
man has ceased to beat, and his voice is hushed
forever IN death. W hen we arouse the anxious
wife from her brief slumber she awakes to find
her husband still in his positionthe form is there
but the noble spirit which animated it has fled to
realms unknown. The midnight stiffness is broken
by the wanYs Of the anguishcd wife, and the
wild shrjeks Of that n"w-nade widowed heart.


On the next day, when at the grave, she fell
upon the coffin, and gave vent to the most heart
rending exclanations Of poignant grief, | have
ever heard. Pressing the coffin with her bosom,
she cried out 80, my husband, l have nothing
now to live for! | left home and followed you to
the camp, and when you were sick, [ nursed you
there. Then followed you to the hospital, aud
there too [ nursed you. Now l have followed
you to the grave, and, IF [ could, would follow
you through the long march Of eternal yeats
How L leave you! how can 20 hack!'


Her waiings still llnger in my ears. But
must close


May He who breaks not the bruised reed and
quenches not the smoking iax-nlay lie who has
sard, Come unto me, all yc that labor aud are
heavy laden, and [ will give you rest moliity
with ointment the wounds OF the bcreavcd one, and
give rest to her troubled heart.