is
right hand and profoundly bowing.

"Hannar Amander said de young man must be cared for, dat de good Lor
would hold us 'countable if we let him suffer, so we gab him our bed,
shared our little hoe-cake and rye coffee wid him, and Susan Matildar,
my darter, and my wife dressed de wound as how de surgeon would tell us.
But after about five days de surgeon shook his head and told de Captain
he couldn't lib. De poor young man failed fast arter dat; he would moan
and mutter all time ober ladies' names.

"'Reckon you hab a moder and sisters?' said my wife to him one morning.

"'Oh, God! yes,' said de fine-looking young man, for, as Hannar Amander
said, he was purty as a pictur, and she'd often say how much would his
moder and sisters gib if dey could only nuss him instead of us poor
culled pussons. He said, too, he was no Rebel at heart--dat he was from
de Norf, and a clerk in a store at New Orleans, and dey pressed him to
go, and den he thought he'd better go as Captain if he had to go, and
dey made him Captain. 'And now I must die a traitor! My God! when will
my moder and sisters hear of dis, and what will dey say?' and he went on
so and moaned; and when we found out he was from up Norf, and sorry at
dat for being a Rebel, we felt all de warmer toward him. He called us
bery kind, but moaned and went on so dreadfully dat my wife and darter
didn't know what to do to comfort him. Dey bathed his head and made him
cool drinks, but no use. 'It's not de pain ob de body,' said Hannar
Amander to me, 'it's ob de heart--dat's what's de matter.'

"'Hab you made your peace wid God, and are you ready for eberlasting
rest?' said my wife to him.

"'My God!' groaned he, 'dere's no peace or rest for me. I'm a sinner and
a Rebel too. Oh, I can't die in such a cause!' and he half raised up,
but soon sunk down again.

"'We'm all rebels to de bressed God. His Grace alone can sab us,' said
my wife, and she sung from dat good hymn

"'Tis God alone can gib
De bliss for which we sigh.'

"'Susan Matildar, bring your Bible and read some.' While she said dis,
de poor young man's eyes got full ob tears.

"'Oh, my poor moder! how she used to read to me from dat book, and how
I've neglected it,' said he.

"Den Susan Matildar--she'd learned to read from her missus' little
girls--read about all de weary laden coming unto de blessed Sabiour.
Wheneber she could she'd read to him, and I went and got good old
Brudder Jones