ing that we have pulled off yet. You'll hear
about it, I guess. Certainly you will if we are successful. I hope
that this letter will go safely, for I want you to know just how I
feel, and that everything is fine with me. I used to be scared stiff
that I would be scared, but I haven't been--there seems to be
something that stands by you and keeps your heart up, and with death
all around you, you see it is not so terrible. I have seen so many of
the boys pass out, and they don't mind it. They fight like wild-cats
while they can, but when their turn comes they go easy. The awful roar
of the guns does it. The silent tomb had a horrible sound to me when I
was at home, but it sounds like a welcome now. Anyway, mother,
whatever happens you must not worry. Everything is all right when you
get right up to it--even death. I just wish I could see you, and make
you understand how light-hearted I feel. I never felt better; my only
trouble is that you will be worried about me, but just remember that
everything is fine, and that I love you.

"FRANK."

AT THE LAST!

O God, who hears the smallest cry
That ever rose from human soul,
Be near my mother when she reads
My name upon the Honor Roll;
And when she sees it written there,
Dear Lord, stand to, behind her chair!

Or, if it be Thy sacred will
That I may go and stroke her hand,
Just let me say, "I'm living still!
And in a brighter, better land."
One word from me will cheer her so,
O Lord, if you will let me go!

I know her eyes with tears will blind,
I think I hear her choking cry,
When in the list my name she'll find--
Oh, let me--let me--let me try
To somehow make her understand
That it is not so hard to die!

She's thinking of the thirst and pain;
She's thinking of the saddest things;
She does not know an angel came
And led me to the water-springs,
She does not know the quiet peace
That fell upon my heart like rain,
When something sounded my release,
And something eased the scorching pain.
She does not know, I gladly went
And am with Death, content, content.

I want to say I played the game--
I played the game right to the end--
I did not shrink at shot or flame,
But when at last the good old friend,
That some call Death, came beckoning me,
I went with him, quite willingly!
Just let me tell her--let her know--
It really was not hard to go!