image to my room,
were too weak to return at once, and so rested awhile.

Here I sat on the morning in question looking over some "diet lists,"
when I heard a slight noise at the door. Soon a little girl edged her
way into the room.

Her dress was plain and faded, but when she pushed back the calico
sun-bonnet a sweet, bright face appeared. She came forward as shyly as
a little bird and stood at my side. As I put out my hand to draw her
closer, she cried, "Don't, you'll scare him!"

And then I perceived that she held close to her breast, wrapped in her
check apron, something that moved and trembled. Carefully the little
girl removed a corner of the apron, disclosing the gray head and
frightened eyes of a squirrel. Said she, "It's Bunny; he's mine; I
raised him, and I want to give him to the sick soldiers! _Daddy's a
soldier!_" And as she stated this last fact the sweet face took on a
look of pride.

"What is your name, and how did you get here?" I said.

"My name is Ca-line. Uncle Jack, he brung in a load of truck, and
mammy let me come along, an' I didn't have nothing to fetch to the
poor soldiers but Bunny. He's mine," she repeated, as she tenderly
covered again the trembling little creature. I soon found that she
desired to give the squirrel away with her own hands, and did not by
any means consider _me_ a sick soldier. That she should visit the
fever-wards was out of the question, so I decided to go with her to a
ward where were some wounded men, most of whom were convalescent. My
own eyes, alas! were so accustomed to the sight of the pale, suffering
faces, empty sleeves, and dreadful scars, that I did not dream of the
effect it would have upon the child.

As we entered she dropped my hand, clinging convulsively to my dress.
Addressing the soldiers, I said, "Boys, little Ca-line has brought you
her pet squirrel; her father is a soldier, she says." But here the
poor child broke down utterly; from her pale lips came a cry which
brought tears to the eyes of the brave men who surrounded her: "Oh,
daddy, daddy; I don't _want_ you to be a soldier! Oh, lady, _will_
they do my daddy like this?"

Hastily retreating, I led the tortured child to my room, where at last
she recovered herself. I gave her lunch, feeding Bunny with some
corn-bread, which he ate, sitting on the table by his little mistress,
his bright eyes fixed warily upon me. A knock at the door startled us.
The child quickly snatched up her pet and hid h