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[310] said the Federal, ‘I'm full and sleepy,’ and he slept, his head resting on the kindly arm of the Confederate, his dream of home, his safety assured—yea, thrice assured—for above him and beneath him were the face and the arm of a brave and generous and gallant foe. He waked and found himself beneath the branches of a giant tree, whither the Confederate had borne him, his head resting in the lap of his foe; his face fanned by that foeman's hat. He looked up and smiled, and received a pitying, kindly smile in return, accompanied by more water.

On the breast of the Federal was the pin of a Phi Gam. Touching the pin tenderly with his finger, the Confederate said: ‘Phi Gam?’ The Federal answered with glad eyes: ‘Yes, Phi Gam.’ Grasping the hand of the Federal in warm embrace, the Confederate said, as his glad glance met the glad glance of his foe: ‘I am a Phi Gam, too.’ With their hands clasped, the palm of each in the palm of the other, forgetful of the battle which had brought to both of them wounds and pain, they talked confidingly and lovingly of the ties of Phi Gam. Rising, the Confederate placed beneath the Federal's head a carefully-folded blanket, gave him another drink of water from his own canteen, placed a well-filled canteen of water within easy reach of him, looked wistfully and lovingly into his pallid face, touched the pin, pressed his hands again, said: ‘God be with you, Phi Gam,’ turned away, and disappared.

Thirty-nine years have passed since that meeting and that parting. Somewhere they—Federal and Confederate—will surely meet again.

During the battle of Chantilly, Va., fought on September 1, 1862, amid thunder and lightning and pouring rain, at sore cost of life to both North and South (the gallant Phil Kearney died there), a Federal passing from the right to the left of his line hit his foot against the body of a wounded Confederate, who lay in the mud, moaning with pain. ‘Give me water, please,’ said the Confederate, ‘I am wounded through the chest and must die.’ The Federal knelt at the side of the wounded soldier, lifted his head upon his hand and arm, put a canteen of fresh water to his lips and bade him drink. He drained the canteen of its contents, and said: ‘I thank you, sir; God bless you, Yank,’ and continued to moan.

Soon he spoke again and said: ‘This rain is very severe, and I have nothing to cover me.’ The Federal, deeply touched, instantly took his own gum-blanklet from his shoulders, spread it over the face and body of the Confederate, sat down beside him, and held it

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