Newspaper Page Text
258
dear, we must content ourselves with
knowing that our boy is trying to do his
duty, and that he is a ‘ good rebel,’ like
the rest of us.”
“It is very poor comfort to me,” said
Mrs. Hunter, in a complaining tone of
voice, “to know that he is so anxious to
be fighting. It is bad enough to have
George in the war. I did hope Harry
would stay where he was, and not put
himself in danger, too.”
“Why, mother,” said Ellie, “you don’t
want Harry to stay with the Yankees, do
you?”
“Ho, my dear; I don’t wish him to
stay with the Yankees, particularly, but
I do wish him to be in some safe place.”
“He had better come here and be in
danger,” said Hr. Hunter, “than remain
where he is and be in disgrace. I only
wish he was with us now.”
What a blessing it is that even the
most loving hearts are not permitted to
know all that is happening to those they
love so dearly. How the little circle at
that table would have wept and groaned
in agony of spirit if they could have seen
Harry at that moment! And yet they
were all so cheerful! But I must not an
ticipate.
As Hr. Hunter left the table, he said :
“I think I will go to the hotels this
evening and see if there are any arrivals
from the North. Perhaps I may hear
something from Harry in that way.”
“Will you be back to tea, father?” ask
ed Ellen.
“No, my dear, I think not.”
“ Then may I sit up and wait for you ?
Please let me; I shall be so anxious to
know what you have heard.”
“ Yery well, my child, if you wish it,”
said Hr. Gordon, “ but it may be very late
before I return.”
Ellen did not mind that. She felt as if
her father was going to hear something
of importance, and she did not feel sleepy,
as she amused herself wondering what it
could be.
Hr. Hunter had been to all the hotels j
without meeting anyone from the North,
and was just stepping into his buggy to
return home, when a soldier came up and
asked if he was a doctor.
“Yes,” said Hr. Hunter, “I am. What
is the matter ?”
“ There is a man mighty bad off around
here, and I want you to come and see
him.”
“Well, jump into my buggy, friend,”
said the Hoctor; “we will get there much
sooner in this way than walking, and you
can tell me on the way what is the mat
ter with the patient.”
“ I don’t know,” said the man, “ what is
BURKE'S WEEKLY.
the matter with him. He keeps up a
mighty groaning, and is all the time talk
ing to himself.”
“Perhaps the man is crazy,” said Hr.
Hunter. “ Hoes he seem to be suffering
much pain ?”
“He ain’t never said nothing about
anything a hurting of him, but he must
have a misery somewhere. He’s a stran
ger to me. He came to the boarding
house where I was a boarding, and the
old lady took him in, and now she’s afraid
he’s got some kind of fever, and she wants
to turn him out.”
By this time they had reached the door
of one of the many small boarding houses
which were opened on street during
the war. Before reaching the room where
the sick man was, they heard him talk
ing. The Hoctor entered the room alone,
as the inmates of the house were too
much alarmed to come farther than the
door. On approaching the bed, Hr. Hun
ter took the patient’s hand, saving—
“ Well, my man, what is the matter
with you ?”
The man turned his face towards the
Hoctor on hearing his voice, but did not
reply to his question. On examining him
particularly, the Hoctor found he had
violent typhoid fever, and sent immediate
ly for something to quiet him. He seem
ed to be quite a young man, and as far as
the Hoctor could judge, was a gentleman.
Hr. Hunter, having satisfied the “old
lady” as to her lodger not being “danger
ous,” as she called it, left the house, prom
ising to come back the next day. He
had been so much interested in his pa
tient that he did not think of his disap
pointment in not having heard anything
of Harry, until he turned his horse’s head
towards home, and remembered that he
would find Ellen sitting up waiting for
him.
Little did he think that the only one
who could tell him of his poor boy was
the sick stranger with whom he had just
parted.
A Whole Man.
“ Be a whole man to everything,” wrote
J. J. Gurney to his son at school. “At
Latin, be a whole man to Latin. At
Geometry or History, be a whole man to
Geometry or History. At play be a
whole man to play. At washing and
dressing be a whole man to washing and
dressing. Above all, at meeting be a
whole man to worship.”
♦♦♦—
Courage and modesty are the least
dubious of all the virtues, for they cannot
be counterfeited; and they have this in
common, that both are manifest by the
same color.
Learning to Walk.
NLY beginning the journey,
Many a mile to go ;
Cl 7/ Little feet, how they patter
Wandering to and fro.
my Trying again, so bravely,
/Ns Laughing in baby glee:
Hiding its face in mother’s lap,
Proud as baby can be.
Talking the oddest language
Ever before was heard ;
But mother—you’d hardly think so—
Understands every word.
Tottering now, and falling,
Eyes that are going to cry,
Kisses and plenty of love-words,
Willing again to try.
Father of all, 0 1 guide them,
The pattering little feet,
While they are treading the up-hill road,
Braving the dust and heat.
Aid them when they grow weary,
Keep them in a pathway blest
And when the journey’s ended,
Saviour, 0 ! give them rest.
Child's Paper.
Written for Burke’s Weekly.
MAEOONER’S ISLAND ;
OR,
Dr. Gordon in Search of His Children.
BY REV. F. R. GOULDING,
Author of “ The Young Marooners.”
CONCLUSION jOF CHAPTER XX.
E had not a minute—no,
f> Giving up all hope of
rjfc reaching the Butte in
time, I ordered ten of
vl the foremost wagons to be halted
in a line, end to end, as close as
they could be brought together;
nlw then a second ten to be halted
side by side with them, “breaking
their joints,” as carpenters and masons
say, or covering the gaps between wagon
and wagon ; then another line of wagons,
and another still, until there was a bul
wark of wagons, four in depth and ten in
length. And as fast as they were brought
into position, the teams were taken out
and placed on the southern or safe side,
where they were fastened as securely as
possible in the very little time left us.
While the teamsters were engaged in this
duty, all other hands were called to firing
the grass around us. This was a difficult
and perilous work, for although themes
quite grass, which grows only about a
foot high, is easily manageable, the prai
rie grass, in the midst of which we weic
stopped, grows as high as a man’s waist,
and it was as much as we could do to
burn it on the outside of the imperfect!)
cleared ring, without at the same time
firing our crowded wagon train. Ilva*
done, however, and in a few seconds tlu
roar and rumble of our fire, which burned
against the wind with a high flame and