Year: 1878

| lIoln lHlHhlHS dhs bhh phiNS hooN
thoughts Of women, always"


This from the lips Of a man dying in
the shade of tree, between two armies
a thousand miles away from the woman
who had so strangely won his heart
aud who, at that moment, was as ignor'
ant of him, his name, his fate, as If he
had never been born. One of his pale
hands held fast TO mine. Occasionally
shot from one of Eacly's batteries
crashed along to the right. The picket'
were alert, and from time to time the
nasal "ping" of a conical musket bal
sang through the foliage overhead.


"You never saw her, then, except
upon the stage?"


Never. Her looks, her voice, her
movements, threw over me a kind OF
enchantment. She used to have the
most graceful ways with her arms"


No one who had seen the artistic to
whom this last allusiOn was made could
have failed to be struck with its touch
ing felicity. Letting few seconds pass
in silence, asked what message it was
that he desired to send.


"Only this" he answered solemnly.
"Tell her what have said. Add that
shall die with the same feeling. IL
might have troubled, annoyed her to
know of il if had lived. But man
who feels in this way" he continued
with an ineXpressible affecting smile,
"can hardly help wishiug-that the lady
(his lips quivered) may remember at
least his name-after he is gone"


Ipromised again to attend to his re-
quest. lie then made me the depository
of a number of papers and of some mes
sages to be delivered to the surviving
members of his family in New England,
and to some of his brother officers on
the field i'm the event of their not find
ing him alive. All this having
been concluded | prepared to go. But
just as | was about to arise he detained
me by another glance, and | fancied
that slightflush tinged his wan cheeks.


"Bend down." he said weakly.


bent over with my ear near his lips.


"Tell me-" he implored in a whisper,
edo you think, do you really think, she
would be offended to receive lock of
my hair?"


assured him, as ] believe, that no
true woman in the world could fail to
be reverently moved by such token of
true devotion. This earnest response
appeared to crafty him almost as much
as if he had received the assurance that
his life would be spared. Unable to
lift his hand, he indicated what he
would have done. Using little single
bladed penknife that carried, l man
aged with difficulty to cut off quite a
lock from one of his temples. AS | held
this up between my fingers he closed
his eyes approvingly. Drawing from a
side pocket some slips of writing paper,
| folded the lock of hair in one of them,
he watching the proceeding with hun
cry gaze. Next drew out my memoir
andum book, and was about to place
the packet between its leaves, when he
asked feebly for pencil.


Supporting his head on my right
knee | put the pencil between his fin
gers and held the packet in which the
hair was enclosed close against the
cover of the memorandum book, in such
way that, with little more assistance
he could write his name. He wrote it
(if my memory is accurate) near the
left hand corner of the paper, and,
when he lay back again, seemed infin-
itely, relieved.


'You will give it to her?" he said.


81 will give it to her with my own
hand"


Leaving the canteen and flask, and
evadlng farewell, l set off for the hos
pital, hoping to send him succOr. A
surgeon promised it at once. For hours
afterwards all thoughts of the stranger
were banished from my own mind by
concerns of close interest-the fate of
army acquaintances and personal
friends.


GallOping hard down the turnpike ]
reached the vicinity of the little glen
where | had left my officer. The line
of battle had just passed through and
beyond it. | turned aside and descend
ed into it again, wondering whether he
had been removed.


There he lay, his head resting on the
cape had unstraDped from the saddle.
Very likely life had lapsed within a
few minutes of my departure, His lips
were only just unclosed, as if he had
tried to speak again. | felt his heart,
crossed his hands and rode on.


y y n


Not many weeks after had redeemed
the promise so siugularly made. AT the
Parker House in Boston | delivered to
the lady for whom they were intended
the last messages of the soldier who con-
fessed his involuntary dominion to-
gether with the lock of hair he had en-
closed and some memoranda of the
occurrence hastily jotted down on the
succeeding night. ! have no doubt she
still preserves them among the memen-
toes of career which has recently been
crowned by new successes.