a widow, I'm the oldest child she has, and it wouldn't do for me to
marry until Lizzy has a home of her own, and Laurie's learned his
trade; for we're not rich, and I must be father to the children and
husband to the dear old woman, if I can."

"No doubt but you are both, John; yet how came you to go to war, if you
felt so? Wasn't enlisting as bad as marrying?"

"No, ma'am, not as I see it, for one is helping my neighbor, the other
pleasing myself. I went because I couldn't help it. I didn't want the
glory or the pay; I wanted the right thing done, and people kept saying
the men who were in earnest ought to fight. I was in earnest, the Lord
knows! but I held off as long as I could, not knowing which was my
duty; mother saw the case, gave me her ring to keep me steady, and said
'Go:' so I went."

A short story and a simple one, but the man and the mother were
portrayed better than pages of fine writing could have done it.

"Do you ever regret that you came, when you lie here suffering so much?"

"Never, ma'am; I haven't helped a great deal, but I've shown I was
willing to give my life, and perhaps I've got to; but I don't blame
anybody, and if it was to do over again, I'd do it. I'm a little sorry
I wasn't wounded in front; it looks cowardly to be hit in the back, but
I obeyed orders, and it don't matter in the end, I know."

Poor John! it did not matter now, except that a shot in the front might
have spared the long agony in store for him. He seemed to read the
thought that troubled me, as he spoke so hopefully when there was no
hope, for he suddenly added:

"This is my first battle; do they think it's going to be my last?"

"I'm afraid they do, John."

It was the hardest question I had ever been called upon to answer;
doubly hard with those clear eyes fixed on mine, forcing a truthful
answer by their own truth. He seemed a little startled at first,
pondered over the fateful fact a moment, then shook his head, with a
glance at the broad chest and muscular limbs stretched out before him:

"I'm not afraid, but it's difficult to believe all at once. I'm so
strong it don't seem possible for such a little wound to kill me."

Merry Mercutio's dying words glanced through my memory as he spoke:
"'Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but 'tis
enough." And John would have said the same could he have seen the
ominous black holes between his shoulders; he never had; and, seeing
the ghastly sights ab