WHISPERIN' BILL
So ye 're runnin' fer Congress, mister? Le 'me tell
ye 'bout my son—
Might make you fellers carefuller down there in
Washington—
He clings to his rifle an' uniform—folks call him
Whisperin' Bill;
An' I tell ye the war ain't over yit up here on
Bowman's Hill.
This dooryard is his battle-field—le's see, he was nigh
sixteen
When Sumter fell, an' as likely a boy as ever this
world has seen;
An' what with the news o' battles lost, the speeches
an' all the noise,
I guess ev'ry farm in the neighborhood lost a part
of its crop o' boys.
'T was harvest time when Bill left home; ev'ry stalk
in the fields o' rye
Seemed to stan' tiptoe to see him off an' wave him
a fond good-bye;
His sweetheart was here with some other gals—the
sassy little miss!
An' purtendin' she wanted to whisper 'n his ear, she
give him a rousin' kiss.
Oh, he was a han'some feller! an' tender an' brave
an' smart,
An' though he was bigger 'n I was, the boy had a
woman's heart.
I couldn't control my feelin's, but I tried with all
my might,
An' his mother an' me stood a-cryin' till Bill was
out o' sight.
His mother she often tol' him, when she knew he
was goin' away,
That God would take care o' him, maybe, if he
didn't fergit to pray;
An' on the bloodiest battle-fields, when bullets
whizzed in the air,
An' Bill was a-fightin' desperit, he used to whisper
a prayer.
Oh, his comrades has often tol' me that Bill never
flinched a bit
When every second a gap in the ranks tol' where
a ball had hit.
An' one night, when the field was covered with the
awful harvest o' war,
They found my boy 'mongst the martyrs o' the cause
he was fightin' for.
His fingers was clutched in the dewy grass—oh,
no, sir, he wasn't dead,
But he lay kind o' helpless an' crazy with a rifleball
in his head;
An' he trembled with the battle-fear as he lay there
in the dew;
An' he whispered as he tried to rise: "God 'll take
care o' you."
An officer wrote an' toL' us how the boy had been
hurt in the fight,
But he said the doctors reckoned they could bring
him around all right.
An' then we heard from a neighbor, disabled at
Malvern Hill,
That he thought in the course of a week or so he'd
be comin' home with Bill.
We was that anxious t' see him we'd set up an'
talk o' nights
Till the break o' day had dimmed the stars an'
put out the Northern Lights;
We waited an' watched fer a month or more, an'
the summer was nearly past,
When a letter come one day that said they'd started
fer home at last.
I'll never fergit the day Bill come—'twas harvest
time again—
An' the air blown over the yeller fields was sweet
with the scent o' the grain;
The dooryard was full o' the neighbors, who had
come to share our joy,
An' all of us sent up a mighty cheer at the sight o'
that soldier boy.
An' all of a sudden somebody said: "My God!
don't the boy know his mother?"
An' Bill stood a-whisperin', fearful like, an' a-starin'
from one to another;
"Don't be afraid, Bill," says he to himself, as he
stood in his coat o' blue,
"Why, God 'll take care o' you, Bill, God 'll take
care o' you."
He seemed to be loadin' an' firin' a gun, an' to act
like a man who hears
The awful roar o' the battle-field a-soundin' in his
ears;
Ten thousan' ghosts o' that bloody day was marchin'
through his brain
An' his feet they kind o' picked their way as if
they felt the slain.
An' I grabbed his hand, an' says I to Bill, "Don't
ye 'member me?
I'm yer father—don't ye know me? How frightened
ye seem to be!"
But the boy kep' a-whisperin' to himself, as if
'twas all he knew,
"God'll take o' you, Bill, God'll take care o'
you."
He's never known us since that day, nor his
sweetheart, an' never will;
Father an' mother an' sweetheart are all the same
to Bill.
An' he groans like a wounded soldier, sometimes
the whole night through,
An' we smooth his head, an' say: "Yes, Bill,
He 'll surely take care o' you."
Ye can stop a war in a minute, but when can ye
stop the groans?
Fer ye've broke our hearts an' sapped our blood
an' plucked away our bones.
An' ye've filled our souls with bitterness that goes
from sire to son,
So ye best be kind o' careful down there in Washington.