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Louisa May Alcott, Hospital Sketches: An Army Nurse's True Account of her Experience during the Civil War., Chapter 3: a day. (search)
vised by me, that afternoon, would have made an excellent chapter for some future history of the war; for, like that which Thackeray's Ensign Spooney wrote his mother just before Waterloo, they were full of affection, pluck, and bad spelling ; nearly all giving lively accounts of the battle, and ending with a somewhat sudden plunge from patriotism to provender, desiring Marm, Mary Ann, or ( Aunt Peters, to send along some pies, pickles, sweet stuff, and apples, to yourn in haste, Joe, Sam, or Ned, as the case might be. My little Sergeant insisted on trying to scribble something with his left hand, and patiently accomplished some half dozen lines of hieroglyphics, which he gave me to fold and direct, with a boyish blush, that rendered a glimpse of My dearest Jane, unnecessary, to assure me that the heroic lad had been more successful in the service of Commander-in-Chief Cupid than that of Gen. Marms; and a charming little romance blossomed instanter in Nurse Periwinkle's romantic f
Louisa May Alcott, Hospital Sketches: An Army Nurse's True Account of her Experience during the Civil War., Chapter 4: a night. (search)
revity. Old boy, how are you? faltered the one. Most through, thank heaven! whispered the other. Can I say or do anything for you anywheres? Take my things home, and tell them that I did my best. I will! I will! Good bye, Ned. Good bye, John, good bye! They kissed each other, tenderly as women, and so parted, for poor Ned could not stay to see his comrade die. For a little while, there was no sound in the room but the drip of water, from a stump or two, and John'Ned could not stay to see his comrade die. For a little while, there was no sound in the room but the drip of water, from a stump or two, and John's distressful gasps, as he slowly breathed his life away. I thought him nearly gone, and had just laid down the fan, believing its help to be no longer needed, when suddenly he rose up in his bed, and cried out with a bitter cry that broke the silence, sharply startling every one with its agonized appeal: For God's sake, give me air! It was the only cry pain or death had wrung from him, the only boon he had asked; and none of us could grant it, for all the airs that blew were useles