“God bless you,” he softly said.
Each one had a story to tell in their home
Of the baggage coach ahead.
While the train rolled onward a husband sat in tears,
Thinking of the happiness of just a few short years,
For baby’s face brings pictures of a cherished hope that’s dead;
But baby’s cries can’t wake her in the baggage coach ahead.
THE MISSING ONE.
The deep pathos of these lines should be expressed by a trembling utterance. Put tears in your voice, if you can do this difficult thing. All the life and spirit are taken out of the old man as he thinks of the regiment returning without his son, whose desolate grave is somewhere on the Cuban shore.