On the last day when the physicians wanted to give my Soldier an anodyne, he said:
"No, I would rather suffer and know. You say there is no help for me; that I've got to cross the river. Well, I want to go over in my right mind—to know when I'm going; and I want to see how to steer my little craft as it pulls out from the shore and look into the dear faces of my loved ones till I breathe my last good night. Now, please, Doctor, excuse me, but won't you all go and leave me alone with my wife? You have tried to save me for her and I thank you. Now, all that you can do for me is to say good night."
Just as they were going my uncle, Colonel Phillips, and his wife came in with our little boy, who was staying with them.
"Well, Colonel," said my Soldier, "the enemy is too strong for me again, you see, and, Colonel—my ammunition is all out. I am glad you have both come. Thank you, and now good night, my dear friend; you are the last old comrade to whom I shall give an order—watch over my wife and child."
Calling our boy he said:
"Crawl up here by 'Dear Father,' my baby," and laying his hand on our boy's head he closed his eyes and there was silence in the room. Presently he spoke:
"This is the month that God sent you to us, my boy, and this is the month, I am afraid, that God is going to call me away from you. You must take my place at the side of your Dear Mother, begin at once to be the little husband to her, the little man for her, and I will watch over you and help you to perform all these offices."
"What are officers?" asked the child.
"Offices. You are old enough to know offices and officers. You must begin to learn words, because words are things and their meanings have much to do with our lives."