the poor men's account, for he would, no doubt, do much during the night to relieve their sufferings.
Taking courage, I made my way slowly toward the mill, where I found, on my arrival, the chaplain dismounted, coat off, and wisp in hand, rubbing and brushing every speck of mud from his horse. After performing this important duty, he then went to the nearest house, ordered supper, and after partaking of a warm meal, he returned to the mill. Oh how glad I was that all these preliminaries were gone through with, for now he would at once enter upon the care of the wounded, and my heart ached for those two sick boys, who were still attending to the wants of such as they could assist, notwithstanding they required waiting upon themselves.
The wounded were coming in faster than ever, and I was busy tearing up the cotton in strips, and trying to bind up some of the poor mangled limbs, the little sick sergeant being my right hand man. I looked around for the chaplain, but he was no where to be seen. I hobbled out to the building where I had seen him put his horse, to see if he had really gone away; no, he had not gone. There he lay on the floor, upon which was a quantity of hay, wrapped up in his blanket, apparently unconscious that there was any such thing as suffering in the world. Oh how I wanted to go to him, quietly lay my hand on him, and say:
