We left him under the shade of the young green leaves, among the blooming flowers of the early spring, where the music of the waters of the winding stream as it rippled over the pebbles could be heard mingling with the sweet song of the birds.
The morning that he went to sleep George had come in with a waiter of white cape jasmine from General and Mrs. Maury, who had taken him to their home during these last days of his little brother's perfect life. In his loving haste to bring them to his brother some of the delicate white blossoms had fallen and been crushed. Corbell looked down at the hurt leaves, then up into George's eyes, saying, "Little brother, be gentle with the flowers; they die so soon." These, almost his last words, my Soldier had engraved on one side of the gold dollar, the "Confederate Orphan" money which he had willed to us, and wore it always on his watch-chain. After he went to our boy I wore it and always have tried to obey its voice and "be gentle with the flowers, they die so soon."
"LITTLE BROTHER, BE GENTLE WITH THE FLOWERS;
THEY DIE SO SOON"
My Soldier longed to take me away at once from the scenes where so much suffering had come to me and the next morning I summoned all my strength for the trial awaiting me. I went to Mary's room and found her dressed, with the exception of her gloves, ready to go out. Her trunks, marked and strapped, were being taken down-stairs. Upon the bed were my dress and wrap, bonnet and veil and gloves of mourning, all laid out by her careful hand.
"Come," she said, "let me help you off with your wrapper. You have not much time; I was just coming for you. You are to leave on the ten-thirty train. George has gone with his father while he makes the final arrangements. I have said good-bye to them."
"Good-bye? Mary!" I said. "Good-bye? What do you mean? You would never leave me now when I need you so?"
Her beautiful face was as white as marble as she said: