on--peculiar objects connected with the camp that could not be
described, any one of them justly, without much minute drawing and
coloring in words.


A NEW YORK SOLDIER

This afternoon, July 22d, I have spent a long time with Oscar F.
Wilber, company G, 154th New York, low with chronic diarrhoea, and
a bad wound also. He asked me to read him a chapter in the New
Testament. I complied, and ask'd him what I should read. He said,
"Make your own choice." I open'd at the close of one of the first
books of the evangelists, and read the chapters describing the latter
hours of Christ, and the scenes at the crucifixion. The poor, wasted
young man ask'd me to read the following chapter also, how Christ rose
again. I read very slowly, for Oscar was feeble. It pleased him
very much, yet the tears were in his eyes. He ask'd me if I enjoy'd
religion. I said, "Perhaps not, my dear, in the way you mean, and yet,
may-be, it is the same thing." He said, "It is my chief reliance." He
talk'd of death, and said he did not fear it. I said, "Why, Oscar,
don't you think you will get well?" He said, "I may, but it is not
probable." He spoke calmly of his condition. The wound was very bad,
it discharg'd much. Then the diarrhoea had prostrated him, and I felt
that he was even then the same as dying. He behaved very manly and
affectionate. The kiss I gave him as I was about leaving he return'd
fourfold. He gave me his mother's address, Mrs. Sally D. Wilber,
Alleghany pest-office, Cattaraugus county, N. Y. I had several such
interviews with him. He died a few days after the one just described.