Two days ago he had
been as bright as a lark, and pleading to be sent to the front. Now he
lay, shot through the breast, so near death that he did not know me.
As I bent over him with tearful eyes, a hand placed upon my arm caused
me to turn. There stood Dr. Gore, his kind face full of sympathy, but
greatly troubled, at his side a Federal surgeon in full uniform. Dr.
Gore said, "This is one of my old chums, and--" But I cried out, "Oh,
doctor! I _cannot_,--look" (indicating with my hand first Willie, then
the entire ward)! Passing swiftly out, I fled to my office and locked
myself in, shedding hot tears of indignation. The dreadful work of the
invaders had been before my eyes all the morning. I felt as if I could
have nothing to do with them, and did not wish to see one of them
again. They had not only murdered my poor boy Willie, but dozens of
dearer friends. They were even now running riot in the home I loved.
They were invaders!
I could _not_ meet them,--could not nurse them.
It is painful thus to reveal the thoughts of my wicked, unchristian
heart; but thus I reasoned and felt just then.
After a while a note from Dr.
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