corner, on the floor, with his face toward the wall I knelt beside him and asked: "What can I do for you, my friend?" He opened his eyes, with an effort, and said, "I wish you to take that," pointing to a small package which lay beside him, "keep it until you get to Washington, and then, if it is not too much trouble, I want you to write to mother and tell her how I was wounded, and that I died trusting in Jesus." Then I knew that I was kneeling beside Willie L. He was almost gone—just ready "to lay down the cross and take up the crown." He signed to me to come nearer ; and as I did so, he put his hand to his head and tried to separate a lock of hair with his fingers, but his strength failed ; however, I understood that he wished me to cut off a lock to send to his mother with the package. When he saw that I understood him he seemed pleased that his last request was complied with.
Chaplain B. came and prayed with him, and while he was praying, the happy spirit of Willie returned to Him who gave it. Heaven gained in this instance another soul, but there was mourning in that widowed mother's heart. I thought, oh, how appropriate were the words of the poet to that lonely mother:
O terror-fronted War!
Not on the battle-field,
All thy bleeding victims are;
