MAKE IT PLAIN.


On the sixteenth day after the battle of Gettysburg, I entered the
room where a young wounded colonel was apparently near to death. As I
entered, he was roused from his stupor and beckoned me to his bedside,
and threw his feeble arms around my neck.

"O my father, how glad I am to see you. I was afraid you would not
come till it was too late. I am too feeble to say much, though I have
a great many things to say to you; you must do all the talking. Tell
me all about dear mother and sister."

I soon perceived by the appearance of those in the house, that there
was no hope entertained of his recovery. But as I could no longer
endure the agony of suspense, I at last inquired of the doctor,
"Doctor, what do you think of my son's case?"

"Entirely hopeless."

"But is there nothing more that can be done to save him?"

"No, sir. Every thing that human skill and kindness can do has been
done. Your son has been a brave and very successful officer; has been
a great favorite in the army; has won the highest esteem of all who
have known him, but he now must die. Immediately after the amputation
the gangrene set in, and defies all efforts to arrest it."