Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/368

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WAR

a man's face as that I saw on the face of my own son then.

I got them both. No one objected. All was sorry for me. And when we took senseless Dave up, we found that he had all the time been pinned by the legs under his dead horse. Neither he nor any one else had thought of the pain and horror of that. Jon I laid on the old Jerry-horse, and Dave on Jon's horse. Both Jon's and Dave's men helped. There was no North nor South there then, but only men. And it showed what we all really were in distress. Just brothers. It was strange how they all seemed to understand.

So we went homeward, slow and solemn, the dead and wounded all about us, I leading the Jerry-horse, Corbin leading Jon's. The battle was over. I don't know who was whipped. But both sides opened ranks as we passed and saluted. The choir of girls was out—yes, as they said they would be—and the rusty old preacher at their head. But it was not a song of victory they sang as we passed, but that

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