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War incidents.--An old lady of Johnstown,Cambria County, Pa., had an only son, a strapping minor, to whom she was sincerely attached. This lad was induced to join a corps from the mountains, and, hoping to deceive the old lady, he invented some plausible tale, and came away. The love of the mother was, however, too great to be deceived, and after a week had elapsed, the true story was revealed to her. She started upon the railroad with a bundle and a small sum of money, and walked to Harrisburg alone, a distance of more than one hundred and fifty miles. At Harrisburg she took the train, and her money brought her to Downington, where she again resumed her tramp, and turned up, much to the lad's astonishment, at Camp Coleman, near Frankford. There the old lady, utterly wearied out, fell sick, and the men, hearing of the case, made up a collection, and provided her a bed and attendance in the neighborhood. But her strength revived with her anxiety, and she proceeded to the railroad with the boy, and kissed him a good-bye at the cars, with the tears falling over her cheeks.

A soldier of one of the returned companies, encamped in the suburbs of Martinsburg, Va., relates the following melting incidents:--Shortly after the arrival of the regiment, the squad messing in a certain tent near a dwelling, were listeners to most beautiful music. The unknown vocalist sang in tones so soft, so tremulous, and so melodious, that the volunteers strained their ears to drink in every note of the air. In daytime they went by squads past the dwelling, but saw no soul. Once they pursued a sylph-like figure to the very gate, but alas! she was not the lady sought for. And so they lived on, each night hearing the music repeated, and when it ceased, ambition and worldly interest went out with them, so that their dreams were filled with fancies of the unseen face.

One night, gathered together, the voice struck up again.

“ By Jove!” said one, “this is agonizing. I can't stand it. She must be discovered!”

A dozen eager voices took up the remark, and a certain amorous youth was delegated to reconnoitre the place. He crept on tip-toe toward the dwelling, [12] leaped the garden pales, and finally, undiscovered, but very pallid and remorseful, gained the casement.

Softly raising his head, he peeped within. The room was full of the music. He seemed to grow blind for the moment.

Lo! prone upon the kitchen hearth, sat the mysterious songstress--an ebony-hued negress, scouring the tin kettles.

The soldier's limbs sank beneath him, and the discovered, looking up, said, “Go ‘way dar, won't ye, or I'll shy de fryina — pan out oa de winder!” The soldier left — but not to dream, perchance!--Boston Saturday Evening Gazette, Aug. 3.

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