rn home until the next day.
Finding the poor fellow, though almost too far gone to articulate,
constantly murmuring words of prayer, I took his prayer-book and read
aloud the "Recommendation of a soul departing," also some of the
preceding prayers of the "Litany for the dying." He faintly responded,
and seemed to die comforted and satisfied. Afterwards I never
hesitated to use the same service in like cases.

The Arkansian was a devoted soldier and a pronounced "rebel." He had
preserved through all vicissitudes a small Confederate flag, made for
him by his little daughter "Annie," now alas torn and shattered. When
he came into the church on that terrible night, although almost
destitute of clothing, he bore the flag safely pinned inside of his
ragged flannel shirt. A few days afterwards I found the poor,
emaciated frame propped up in bed, with a crumpled sheet of paper
spread upon a piece of pine board before him, while, with unaccustomed
hand and unaccustomed brain, he toiled over some verses of poetry
addressed to "Annie." After a week or two, when he lay dying, I
received from his hand the flag and the verses pinned together, and
addressed to "Miss Annie ----," in some part of Arkansas; but as I
hoped to retain, and finally to deliver safely, the articles so
addressed, I did not tax my memory with it, and when afterwards, in
Macon, all my belongings were taken by the raiders, I had nothing left
to recall the name, and only remember one of the verses, which ran
thus:

"Your father fought under this flag,
This bonny flag so true,
And many a time, amidst the fray,
The bullets whistled through--
_So, Annie, keep the flag_."

The verses were headed, "Annie, Keep the Flag," and each one ended
with the same words.

The sad days of winter passed slowly away; with the spring came
changes. Dr. Thornton was ordered to another post (I had forgotten
just where), and of course Mrs. Thornton accompanied him. Everybody
connected with the post regretted their departure, especially the loss
of Mrs. Thornton, who was a general favorite. We had not ceased to
miss her when tidings came of Dr. Thornton's death, and of the wild
grief of the stricken wife, which resisted all control. A messenger
had been despatched to call me to her side. I found her clinging to
the body of her murdered husband, stained with his blood, yet
resisting all attempts to remove her. Dr. Thornton having severely
punished a case of insubordina