ose poor
wounded Federal soldiers out there cry for water. Let me go and give
them some."

"Don't you know," replied the general, "that you would get a bullet
through you the moment you stepped over the wall?"

"Yes, sir," said the sergeant; "but if you will let me go I am willing
to try it."

The general reflected a minute, then answered: "Kirtland, I ought not to
allow you to take this risk, but the spirit that moves you is so noble I
cannot refuse. Go, and may God protect you!"

In the face of almost certain death the sergeant climbed the wall,
watched with anxiety by the soldiers of his army. Under the curious gaze
of his foes, and exposed to their fire, he dropped to the ground and
hastened on his errand of mercy. Unharmed, untouched, he reached the
nearest sufferer. He knelt beside him, tenderly raised his drooping
head, rested it gently on his breast, and poured the cooling life-giving
water down the parched throat. This done he laid him carefully down,
placed the soldier's knapsack under his head, straightened his broken
limbs, spread his coat over him, replaced the empty canteen with a full
one, then turned to another sufferer.

By this time his conduct was understood by friend and foe alike and the
firing ceased on both sides.

For an hour and a half did he pursue his noble mission, until he had
relieved the wounded on all parts of the battlefield. Then he returned
to his post uninjured.

Surely such a noble deed is worthy of the admiration of men and angels.

THE YOUNG SENTINEL

BY Z. A. MUDGE (ADAPTED)

In the summer of 1862, a young man belonging to a Vermont regiment was
found sleeping at his post. He was tried and sentenced to be shot. The
day was fixed for the execution, and the young soldier calmly prepared
to meet his fate.

Friends who knew of the case brought the matter to Mr. Lincoln's
attention. It seemed that the boy had been on duty one night, and on
the following night he had taken the place of a comrade too ill to stand
guard. The third night he had been again called out, and, being utterly
exhausted, had fallen asleep at his post.

As soon as Mr. Lincoln understood the case, he signed a pardon, and
sent it to the camp. The morning before the execution arrived, and the
President had not heard whether the pardon had reached the officers in
charge of the matter. He began to feel uneasy. He ordered a telegram to
be sent to the camp, but received no answer. State papers could