lendid capital in ruins； its people surrendered to God's enemies。
The rout of wagons had gone by I could now hear the heavy tramp of thousands passing me； the shrill voices of terror。 I worked to a sitting posture somehow … the effort nearly smothered me。 A mass of cavalry was bearing down upon me。 They were coming so thick I saw they would trample me into jelly。 In a flash I thought of what Uncle Eb had told me once。 I took my hat and covered my face quiddy； and then uncovered it as they came near。 They sheared away as I felt the foam of their nostrils。 I had split them as a rock may split the torrent。 The last of them went over me … their tails whipping my face。 I shall not soon forget the look of their bellies or the smell of their wet flanks。 They had no sooner passed than I fell back and rolled half over like a log。 I could feel a warm flow of blood trickling down my left arm。 A shell； shot at the retreating army； passed high above me； whining as it flew。 Then my mind went free of its trouble。 The rain brought me to as it came pelting down upon the side of my face。 I wondered what it might be； for I knew not where I had come。 I lifted my head and looked to see a new dawn … possibly the city of God itself。 It was dark … so dark I felt as if I had no eyes。 Away in the distance I could hear the beating of a drum。 It rang in a great silence … I have never known the like of it。 I could hear the fall and trickle of the rain； but it seemed only to deepen the silence。 I felt the wet grass under my face and hands。 Then I knew it was night and the battlefield where I had fallen。 I was alive and might see another day … thank God！ I felt something move under my feet I heard a whisper at my shoulder。
'Thought you were dead long ago；'it said。
'No； no；'I answered； 'I m alive … I know I m alive … this is the battlefield。
''Fraid I ain't goin't'live；'he said。 'Got a terrible wound。 Wish it was morning。
'Dark long？'I asked。
'For hours；'he answered。 'Dunno how many。
He began to groan and utter short prayers。
'O； my soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning；'I heard him cry in a loud； despairing voice。
Then there was a bit of silence； in which I could hear him whispering of his home and people。
Presently he began to sing：
'Guide me； O thou great Jehovah！ Pilgrim through this barren land
I am weak but thou art mighty'
Ills voice broke and trembled and sank into silence。
I had business of my own to look after … perhaps I had no time to lose … and I went about it calmly。 I had no strength to move and began to feel the nearing of my time。 The rain was falling faster。 It chilled me to the marrow as I felt it trickling over my back。 I called to the man who lay beside me … again and again I called to him … but got no answer。 Then I knew that he was dead and I alone。 Long after that in the far distance I heard a voice calling。 It rang like a trumpet in the still air。 It grew plainer as I listened。 My own name！ William Brower？ It was certainly calling to me； and I answered with a feeble cry。 In a moment I could hear the tramp of someone coming。 He was sitting beside me presently； whoever it might be。 I could not see him for the dark。 His tongue went clucking as if he pitied me。
'Who are you？'I remember asking； but got no answer。
At first I was glad； then I began to feel a mighty horror of him。
In a moment he had picked me up and was making off。 The jolt of his step seemed to be breaking my arms at the shoulder。 As I groaned he ran。 I could see nothing in the darkness； but he went ahead； never stopping； save for a moment； now and then； to rest I wondered where he was taking me and what it all meant。 I called again； 'Who are you？
but he seemed not to hear me。 'My God！'I whispered to myself； 'this is no man … this is Death severing the soul from the body。 The voice was that of the good God。'Then I heard a man hailing near by。
'Help； Help！'I shouted faintly。
'Where are you？'caine the answer； now further away。 'Can't see you。'My mysterious bearer was now running。 My heels were dragging upon the ground； my hands were brushing the grass tops。 I groaned with pain。
'Halt！ Who comes there？'a picket called。 Then I could hear voices。
'Did you hear that noise？'said one。 'Somebody passed me。 So dark can't see my hand before me。
'Darker than hell！'said another voice。
It must be a giant； I thought； who can pick me up and carry me as if I were no bigger than a house cat。 That was what I was thinking when I swooned。
From then till I came to myself in the little church at Centreville I remember nothing。 Groaning men lay all about me； others stood between them with lanterns。 A woman was bending over me。 I felt the gentle touch of her hand upon my face and heard her speak to me so tenderly I cannot think of it； even now； without thanking God for good women。 I clung to her hand； clung with the energy of one drowning； while I suffered the merciful torture of the probe； the knife and the needle。 And when it was all over and the lantern lights grew pale in the dawn I fell asleep。
But enough of blood and horror。 War is no holiday； my merry people； who know not the mighty blessing of peace。 Counting the cost； let us have war； if necessary； but peace； peace if possible。
Chapter 40
But now I have better things to write of'things that have some relish of good in them。 I was very weak and low from loss of blood for days； and； suddenly； the tide turned。 I had won recognition for distinguished gallantry they told me … that day they took me to Washington。 I lay three weeks there in the hospital。 As soon as they heard of my misfortune at home Uncle Eb wrote he was coming to see me。 I stopped him by a telegram； assuring him that I was nearly well and would be home shortly。
My term of enlistment had expired when they let me out a fine day in mid August。 I was going home for a visit as sound as any man but； in the horse talk of Faraway； I had a little 'blemish'on the left shoulder。 Uncle Eb was to meet me at the jersey City depot。 Before going I； with others who had been complimented for bravery； went to see the president。 There were some twenty of us summoned to meet him that day。 It was warm and the great Lincoln sat in his shirt…sleeves at a desk in the middle of his big office。 He wore a pair of brown carpet slippers； the rolling collar and black stock now made so familiar in print。 His hair was tumbled。 He was writing hurriedly when we came in。 He laid his pen away and turned to us without speaking。 There was a careworn look upon his solemn face。
'Mr President；'said the general； who had come with us； 'here are some of the brave men of our army； whom you wished to see。
He came and shook hands with each and thanked us in the name of the republic； for the example of courage and patriotism we and many others had given to the army。 He had a lean； tall； ungraceful figure and he spoke his mind without any frill or flourish。 He said only a few words of good plain talk and was done with us。
'Which is Brower？'he enquired presently。
I came forward more scared than ever I had been before。
'My son；'he said； taking my hand in his； 'why didn t you run？'
'Didn't dare；'I answered。 'I knew it was more dangerous to run away than to go forward。'
'Reminds me of a story；'said he smiling。 'Years ago there was a bully in Sangamon County； Illinois； that had the reputation of running faster and fighting harder than any man there。 Everybody thought he was a terrible fighter。 He d always get a man on the run； then he d ketch up and give him a licking。 One day he tadded a lame man。 The lame man licked him in a minute。
'〃Why didn't ye run？〃 somebody asked the victor。
'〃Didn't dast；〃 said he。 〃Run once when he tackled me an I've been lame ever since。〃
〃How did ye manage to lick him？〃 said the other。
'〃Wall；〃 said he； 〃I hed to； an'I done it easy。〃
'That's the way it goes；'said the immortal president； 'ye do it easy if ye have to。
He reminded me in and out of Horace Greeley； although they looked no more alike than a hawk and a handsaw。 But they had a like habit of forgetting themselves and of saying neither more nor less than they meant。 They both had the strength of an ox and as little vanity。 Mr Greeley used to say that no man could amount to anything who worried much about the fit of his trousers； neither of them ever encountered that obstacle。
Early next morning I took a train for home。 I was in soldier clothes I had with me no others … and all in my car came to talk with me about the now famous battle of Bull Run。
The big platform atjersey City was crowded with many people as we got off the train。 There were other returning soldiers … some with crutches； some with empty sleeves。
A band at the further end of the platform was playing and those near me were singing the familiar music；
'John Brown's body lies a mouldering in the grave。
Somebody shouted my name。 Then there rose a cry of three cheers for Brower。 It's some of the boys of the Tribune； I thought … I could see a number of them in the crowd。 One brought me a basket of flowers。 I thought they were trying to have fun with me。
'Thank you！'said I； 'but what is the joke？'
'No joke；'he said。 'It's to honour a hero。'
'Oh； you wish me to give it to somebody。'
I was warming with embarrassment
'We wish you to keep it；'he answered。
In accounts of the battle I had seen some notice of my leading a charge but my fame had gone farther … much farther indeed … than I knew。 I stood a moment laughing … an odd sort of laugh it was that had in it the salt of tears … and waving my hand to the many who were now calling my name。
In the uproar of cheers and waving of handkerchiefs I could not find Uncle Eb for a moment。 When I saw him in the breaking crowd he was cheering lustily and waving his hat above his head。 His enthusiasm increased when I stood before him。 As 1 was greeting him I heard a lively rustle of skirts。 Two dainty； gloved hands laid hold of mine； a sweet voice spoke my name。 There； beside me； stood the tall； erect figure of Hope。 Our eyes met and； before there was any thinking of propriety； I had her in my arms and was kissing her and she was kissing me。
It thrilled me to see th