I love you,' he
said, 'I can love no one else as I love you. Oh! do take care of
your-self; do try not to get shot or hurt: if you die, I must die too.'"

Here Bell and Lou saw a big tear roll down on each side of the poor
man's face; they had hard work not to cry too. Lou said in a low, soft
tone: "Poor man, we are so sad for you!"

"You are a good girl," said the old man; "and tho' it will give me so
much pain, I will tell you the rest.

"We went to the war, and Will was with me in my tent. All the men did
love him, he was so good, and just as full of glee as a bird. He sang
all day, and beat his drum so well, that the men said he was as good
as a band.

"One day we were told to load our guns, and not to say a loud word. We
knew then that the time was come; that bad men were on our path to
kill us. I took Will to the back of the camp. I put my arm on his
neck; I gave him a kiss full of love, and I said: 'O my dear son! do
not come near the guns; they will kill you if you do. You know you
can beat your drum out here. Good-by, and God bless and keep you
safe.' Then I gave him one more kiss, and he gave me a hug and a
kiss--the last but one I had from my dear boy, the last kiss of my
Will. Oh! why did I let him come?

"All that day we did load and fire our guns, and the bad men did fire
at us. The dead lay at our feet. We did not take them up; we had no
time; but when the sun had set, we went out to find our men who had
died, to wrap them in our flag, and lay them down in the last rest. We
knew our men, for the pale, sad moon lit up each face. As we took
them up, we did pray to God for each soul that had gone. We did pray
that each one who had died for his dear land was in joy with Him.

"As we went on, one of the men gave a low cry, and said: 'Why here is
a poor boy! O dear! he has been shot; he is dead! How did such a boy
come here?' I did not dare to go up and look; but one of our own men
went near; he gave one look, and then said in a low, sad tone: 'It is
our Will.'

"Oh! then I ran and fell down by my boy, my dear dead boy. He lay on
his face; he did not stir.

"I took his hand in mine, and did turn his dear face so that I could
see it. With sobs I took him up in my arms. He was yet warm, and a hope
rose in me that he was not dead. Yes, the good God did not let him die
then, for he gave a low moan of pain, tho' his eyes were yet shut.

"And so I took him to my tent, and laid him down on my bed, and sat