“'Marsa Lyon and Marsa Gen'l, come to Marsa Peter, quick; 'cause he bleed to deff if you not hurry.'
“We ran to him quickly. He was bleeding profusely, holding his head over the edge of the bed. He could only speak in a gurgling whisper. He took me by the hand and said:
“'Father, it is all over with me; soon there will be but one finger left.'
“We laid him back on the pillow, and without another word or struggle he passed away. Good bless my poor son!”
“Amen!” said Dr. Adams.
Uncle Daniel soon proceeded, saying: “But, my good friends, this was not my only grief. We tried to keep his death from his mother. She, in her delirium, was constantly speaking of her dear son Peter, and crying. She seemed to have no thought except of Peter and the constant shadow of her dream. The day of Peter's funeral her reason seemed to return and her strength revived. She asked for all of us to come into her room, and we did so. When she saw that Peter was not with us, she inquired why. I answered that he could not come. I then broke down and left her room weeping. She saw it, and, with strength that she had not shown for many weeks, arose, and leaping to the floor rushed past all into the parlor, and there saw Peter lying a corpse. She shrieked and fell on his remains. We lifted her and carried her back to her bed. She was dead!”
Uncle Daniel sank back into his chair overcome with his sorrows. The severe trials through which he had passed, re-called again, opened the flood of sorrow, which well nigh swept him away. We withdrew for the present, with intense sympathy for the old hero and a feeling that the Government had sadly neglected him.