and stripes on the works; and though the Rebel
regiments in the fort rained solid shot and shell and grape and canister
and musket-balls upon them, yet they held the ground through the long,
weary, dreary winter night. When the dawn came, the dawn of Sunday, they
saw a white flag flung out from the parapet of the fort, and they knew
that the enemy had surrendered. What a cheer they gave! They swung their
hats, sang songs, and danced for joy. How beautifully the stars and
stripes waved in the morning breeze! How proudly they marched into the
fort and into the town,--the drums beating, the bugles sounding, and the
bands playing!

But how horrible the sight upon the field when the contest was
over,--the dead, some cold and ghastly, others still warm with departing
life, lying with their faces toward heaven, smiling as if only asleep!
The ground was strewn with guns, knapsacks, and blood-stained garments;
the snow had changed to crimson. Many wounded were lying where they
fell, some whose lives were ebbing away calmly waiting the coming of
death. As Paul walked over the field he came upon one lying with clasped
hands and closed eyes, whose blood was flowing from a ghastly wound in
his breast. As Paul stopped to gaze a moment upon a countenance which
seemed familiar, the soldier opened his eyes and smiled; then Paul saw
that it was the brave sharpshooter whom he had helped on the march, who,
though sick, would not go into the hospital, though wounded, would not
leave the field, and had aided him in rallying the fugitives. He had
fought gallantly through the battle, and received his death-wound in the
last grand charge.

"I am glad you have come, for I know that one who was kind enough to
help a poor fellow on the march will be willing to do one thing more,"
said the soldier, faintly.

"Certainly. What can I do for you?"

"Not much, only I would like to have you overhaul my knapsack for me."

Paul unstrapped the knapsack from the soldier's back, and opened it.

"There is a picture in there which I want to look at once more before I
die. You will find it in my Bible."

Paul handed him the Bible.

"My mother gave me this blessed book the day I left home to join the
army. It was her last gift. I promised to read it every day, and I would
like to have you write to her and tell her that I have kept my promise.
Tell her that I have tried to do my duty to my country and to my God. I
would like to live, but am not afraid to