صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

"You're in the hospital.'

"Funny hospital. Look at that harp and Gabriel's big trumpet hanging close by it."

"No," she laughed. "This is the Patent Office 5 building that covers two blocks, now a temporary hospital. There are seventy thousand wounded soldiers in town, and more coming on every train. The thirty-five hospitals are overcrowded."

He closed his eyes a moment in silence, and then 10 spoke with a tremor. "I'm afraid "I'm afraid you don't know who I am-I can't impose on you-I'm a rebel—”

15

20

"Yes, I know. You are Colonel Ben Cameron. It makes no difference to me now which side you fought on."

"Well, I'm in heaven-been dead a long time. I can prove it, if you'll play again."

"What shall I play?"

First, O Johnny Booker, help dis Nigger."
She played and sang it beautifully.

"Now, Wake up in the Morning."

Again he listened with wide, staring eyes that saw nothing except visions within.

"Now, then, The Old Gray Hoss."

As the last notes died away he tried once more

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

With deft, sure touch and soft negró dialect she sang it through.

66

Now, did n't I tell you that you could n't fool me? No Yankee girl could play and sing those songs. I'm in heaven, and you're an angel."

[ocr errors]

"Aren't you ashamed of yourself to be paying compliments with one foot in the grave?' "That's the time to get on good terms with the angels; but I'm dead

Elsie laughed in spite of herself.

"I know it," he went on, "because you have shining golden hair and amber eyes instead of blue I never in my life before saw a girl with

[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][ocr errors]

10

15

[blocks in formation]

She lifted her finger in warning, and his eyelids

drooped in exhausted stupor.

"You must n't talk any more," she whispered, 20 shaking her head.

A commotion at the door caused Elsie to turn from the cot. A sweet, motherly woman of fifty, in an old, faded, black dress, was pleading with the guard to be allowed to pass.

"Can't do it, ma'am. It's against the rules."

25

"But I must go in. I've tramped for four days through a wilderness of hospitals, and I know he must be here."

"Special orders, ma'am; wounded rebels in here 5 that belong in prison."

10

66

Very well, young man," said the pleading voice. "My baby boy's in this place, wounded and about to die. I'm going in there. You can shoot me if you like, or you can turn your head the other way." She stepped quickly past the soldier, who merely stared with dim eyes out the door and saw nothing. She stood for a moment with a look of helpless bewilderment.

Against the walls were ponderous glass cases 15 filled with models of every kind of invention the genius of man had dreamed. Between these cases were deep lateral openings, eight feet wide, crowded with the sick, and long rows of them were stretched through the center of the hall. A gallery ran 20 around above the cases, and this was filled with cots. The clatter of the feet of passing surgeons and nurses over the marble floor added to the weird impression.

Elsie saw the look of helpless appeal in the 25 mother's face and hurried forward to meet her. "Is this Mrs. Cameron of South Carolina ?"

The trembling figure grasped her hand eagerly. "Yes, yes, my dear; and I'm looking for my boy, who is wounded unto death. Can you help me?"

"I thought I recognized you from a miniature I've seen," she answered softly. "I'll lead "I'll lead you 5 direct to his cot."

In a moment she was beside him, and Elsie walked away to the open window, through which came the chirp of sparrows from the lilac bushes in full bloom below.

The mother threw one look of infinite tenderness on the drawn face, and her hands suddenly clasped in prayer: "I thank Thee, Lord, for this hour. Thou hast heard the cry of my soul and led my feet."

She gently knelt, kissed the hot lips, smoothed the dark, tangled hair back from his forehead, and her hand rested over his eyes.

A faint flush tinged his face.

"It's you, mamma I-know you

10

15

that's 20

your hand

or else - it's

God's."

She slipped her arms about him.

'My hero! my darling! my baby!"

"I'll get well now, mamma,-never fear."

THE WISDOM OF GOVERNOR SANCHO

PANZA

MIGUEL DE CERVANTES

MIGUEL DE CERVANTES (1547-1616), the great Spanish poet and novelist, the author of Don Quixote, was a contemporary of Shakespeare and Spenser. Although fond of poetry when he was young, he was so attracted by a stirring life that he went to 5 Rome as page to a cardinal. He later became a soldier and took a valiant part in the battle of Lepanto. This engagement resulted in a glorious victory for Spain over the Turks. Cervantes was captured by the Moors some time later, and confined in prison for five years. After extraordinary suffering, borne, according 10 to an eyewitness, with remarkable fortitude, he was ransomed by his mother and sisters, aided by some generous Christian merchants of Algiers.

The loss of an arm at the battle of Lepanto rendered Cervantes unfit for an active life, and he turned to writing plays. He made, 15 however, a bare living, until in his fortieth year he published Don Quixote. This almost incomparable romance made him the literary hero of his nation, and he soon became wealthy. He died on the same day that Shakespeare died, —April 23, 1616.

A certain strong man of former time fought stoutly at 20 Lepanto; worked stoutly as Algerine slave; stoutly delivered himself from such working; with stout cheerfulness endured famine and nakedness and the world's ingratitude; and, sitting in jail, with one arm left him, wrote our joyfulest and all but deepest book and named it Don Quixote. — THOMAS CARLYLE.

25

NOTE. Sancho Panza is a simple country fellow, possessed of considerable shrewdness and good sense. To amuse a certain duke, Sancho is made to believe that he has been appointed governor of an island, and his behavior wins much admiration.

« السابقةمتابعة »