when that privileged character, Hogan, Ray's long-tried trooper
now turned _major domo_, appeared at the doorway of the little army
parlor. He had been bearer of a lot of goodies to the children among the
quarters of the married soldiers, and now, would Mrs. Dade please speak
with Mrs. Foster, who had come over with him, and Mrs. Dade departed for
the kitchen forthwith. Presently she returned. "I'm going back awhile
with Mrs. Foster," said she. "She's sitting up to-night with poor Mrs.
Wing, who--" But there was no need of explanation. They all knew. They
had laid so recently their wreaths of evergreen on the grave of the
gallant soldier who fell, fighting at the Elk, and now another helpless
little soul had come to bear the buried name, and all that were left for
mother and babe was woman's boundless charity. It was Thanksgiving
night, and while the wail of the bereaved and stricken went up from more
than one of these humble tenements below the eastward bluff, there were
scores of glad and grateful hearts that lifted praise and thanksgiving
to the throne on high, even though they knew not at the moment but that
they, too, might, even then, be robbed of all that stood between them
and desolation. Once it happened in the story of our hard-fighting,
hard-used little army that a bevy of fair young wives, nearly half a
score in number, in all the bravery of their summer toilets, sat in the
shadow of the flag, all smiles and gladness and applause, joining in the
garrison festivities on the Nation's natal day, never dreaming of the
awful news that should fell them ere the coming of another sun; that one
and all they had been widowed more than a week; that the men they loved,
whose names they bore, lay hacked and mutilated beyond recognition
within sight of those very hills where now the men from Frayne were
facing the same old foe. In the midst of army life we are, indeed, in
death, and the thanksgiving of loving ones about the fireside for
mercies thus far shown, is mingled ever with the dread of what the
morrow may unfold.

"Let me go, too, mamma," was Esther's prompt appeal, as she heard her
mother's words. "I can put the children to bed while you and Mrs. Foster
are over there."

And so with Hogan, lantern bearing, mother and daughter had followed the
sergeant's wife across the broad, snow-covered parade; had passed
without comment, though each was thinking of the new inmate, the
brightly-lighted hospital building on the