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Show A SIGNIFICANT INCIDENT. In one of the battles of the late war, young Dr. D----, then a volunteer captain in the Union Army, led his men up to a hand to hand fight with a Confederate regiment. "I never," said the captain, "had killed a man before. It was a mass of men I fought -- an idea, the whole South -- not the individual. "When I found myself, therefore, slashing away at a stout, blue-eyed fellow, who might be some woman's husband, and some child's father, I confess my courage gave way. I actually shut my eyes as I hacked desperately at him with my sword. His arm fell helpless, and he dropped from his horse. "An hour after I saw him in the surgeon' tent. The arm had been amputated, and lay on the floor. As the man was carried away I saw on one of the fingers a ring carved out of cannel? coal. It looked to me like a child's work, and I drew it off and followed the wounded soldier, determining to restore it. But in the confusion of the battlefield, I lost sight of him." The sequel to this story is as follows: In the summer of 1878, when the yellow fever was raging in the South, Dr. D---- was one of the northern physicians who answered the call for aid. He went to Memphis and labored for weeks among the sick and dying. Among the patients brought to the hospital was a Colonel C----, a man with but one arm. Something familiar in the man's honest face troubled our doctor. He gave his constant care to him, both nursed and prescribed for him, and finally saw him recover. The two men became warmly attached. One evening, when the colonel was able to leave his bed, they took supper together. Dr. D--- suddenly drew from his pocket a black ring and laid it on the table. "Why this is mine!" exclaimed the colonel. "My boy Dick cut that for me thirteen years ago." "Then it was I who cut off your arm, " said D----. The men rose and faced each other silently for a moment, and then their hands met in a hearty clasp. The strife was over, and the true men were true brothers again. |
