ASLEEP AT HIS POST.

Evening Star, Issue 6491, 7 January 1884, Page 4

ASLEEP AT HIS POST.

Mr Owen, a pious farmer of Vermont, gave his eldest son, Benjamin, to the Federal cause in the late fearful struggle. One day a message arrived, which fell like a thunderbolt upon the anxious yet hopeful family. The lad had been found asleep at his post, and was condemned to be shot.

The terrible news soon spread in the village, and the good minister, Mr Allan, came at; once to see if it were possible to administer consolation to the heart-broken pr.rents. "Oh, sir!" cried the sorrowing old man, "such a dear, precious, noble boy ! I thought when I gave him to his country that not a father in all this broad land made so precious a gift—no, not one. God forgive me if my grief is a sin. Mr Allan, the dear boy only slept a minute, just one little minute, at his post; I know that was all, for Bonnie never dozed over a duty. How prompt and reliable he was!" and Mr Owen's eye wandered out over the brown fields with such a perplexed, wondering look. "I know he only fell off one little second; he was so young, and not strong, that boy of mine ! Why he was as tall as I, and only eighteen ; and now they shoot him because he was found asleep when doing sentinel!" Mr Owen repeated these words very slowly, as if endeavoring to find out their true meaning. " Twenty-four hours—the telegraph said only twenty-four. "Where is Bennie now '!"

The daughter, a fair young lady—Blossom, as they called her—had sat near them listening with blanched cheek. She had not shed a tear to-day, and the terror in her face had been so very still that not one noticed it. She had occupied herself mechanically in the household care, which her mother's condition devolved entirely upon her. Now she answered a gentle tap at the kitchen door, opening it to receive from a neighbor's hand a letter. "It is from him," was all she aaid.

Twas like a message from the dead. Mr Owen could not break the seal for his trembling fingers, and held it toward Mr Allan with the helplessness of a little child. The minister opened it, and obedient to a motion from the father, read as follows : " Dear Father,—When this teaches you X shall be in eternity. At fir3t it seemed awful to me, but I have thought about it so much now that it has no terror. They say they will not bind me nor blind me, but that I may meet my death like a man. I thought, father, it might have been on the battle* field for my country, and that when I fell it would be fighting gloriously; but to be shot down like a dog for nearly betrayjng it—to die for neglect of duty ! Oh, father ! I wonder the very thought does not kill me ! But I shall not disgrace you. I am going to write you all about it, and when I am gone you may tell my comrades. I can't now. You know X promised Jemmy Carr's mother I would look after her boy, and when he fell sick I did all I could for him. He was not strong when he was ordered baok into the ranks, and the day before that night I carried all his luggage beside my own on our maioh. Toward night we went on doublequick, and though the luggage began to feel very heavy, everybody else was tirod too; and as for Jemmy, if I had not lent him an arm now and then he would have dropped by the way. I v/as all tired out when i came into camp, and ther it was Jemmy's turn to be sentry, and I would take his place ; but I was too tired, father. I could not have kept awake ii i had had a gun at my head ; but X did not know it until —well until it was too late i Thoy tojl me today that I have a short reprieve, given to mo by circumstances—- ' time to write to you '--our good colonel nays, forgive him father—he only does his duty ; he would gladly save me if he could. And don't lay my death against Jemmy. Tlh: poor boy is broken-hearted, and does nothing but beg and entreat them to let him die in my stead. I can't bear to think of mother and Blossom. Comfort them father. Toll them I die as a brave boy should, and that when the war is over they will not bo ashamed of me, as they must be now. God help mi, it is very hard to bear ! Goodbyo, father; God seems near and dear to inc ; not atcdl as if He wished me to perish for ev.tr, but as if He felt sorry for His poor, sinful, broken-hearted child, and would take me to be with Him and my Saviour, in a hotter, better, life !" A great »ob burst from Mr Owen's heart. '' Amen i" he said solemnly. " Amen !" Late that night the door opened softly, and a Jittle figure glided out and down the footpath that led to the road by the mill. She seemed rather flying than walking, timing her head neither to the right nor left; starting not aa the full moon stretched queer, fantastic shapes all round her 5 looking only now and then to heaven and folding her hands as if in prayer. Two hours later the same young girl stood at the Depot, watching the coming of the night train, and the con-

duetor, as he reached down to lift her in, ] wondered at the sweet, tear-stained face that was upturned toward the dim lantern he held in his hand. A few questions and ready answers told him all, and no father could have cared more tenderly for his own child than he for our little Blossom, She was on her way to Washington to ask President Lincoln for her brother's life. She bad stolen away, leaving only a note to tell her father where and why sne had gone. She had brought Bennie's letter with her; no good, kind heart like the President's could refuse to be melted by it. The next morning they reached New York, and the conductor found suitable -ompany or Bl< ,'ti'd hurried her on to vVashington. l.vory minute now might be a year in her brother's life. And so, in an incredibly short time Blossom reached the Capitol, and was harried at once to the White House. The President had just seated himself to his morning task of overlooking and signing important papers, when, without oue word of announcement, the door softly opened, and Blossom, with eyes downcast and folded hands, stood before him. "Well, my child," he said in his pleasant, cheery tones, " what do you want so bright and early in the morning ?" " Bennie's life—please, sir!" faltered out Blossom. '' Bennie ? Who is Bennie ?" "My brother, sir. They are going to shoot him for sleeping at his post." " Oh, yes!" And Mr Lincoln ran his eye over the papers before him. "I remember. It was a fatal sleep. You see, child, it wa3 a time of special danger. Thousands of lives might have been lost through his culpable negligence." "So my father said," said Blossom, gravely. "But poor Bennie was so tired, sir, and Jemmy so weak. He did the work of two, and it was Jemmy's night, not his ; but Jemmy was too tired, and Bennie never thought about himself that he was too tired."

"{What is this you say, child? Come here; I don't understand " ; and the kind man caught eagerly as ever at what seemed to be a justification of an offence. Blossom went to him; he put his hand tenderly on her shoulder, and turned up the pale, anxious face toward his. How tall he seemed; and he was President of the United States, too! A dim thought of this kind passed for a moment through Blossom's mind; but she told her story now simply and straightforward, and handed Mr Lincoln Bennie's letter to read.

He read it carefully; then taking up his pen, wrote a few hasty lines, and rang the bell.

Blossom heard this order given: "Send this despatch at once." The President then turned to the girl, and said: "Go home, my child, and tell that father of yours, who could approve his country's sentence, even when it took the life of a child like that, that Abraham Lincoln thinks the life far too precious to be lost. Go back, or wait until to-morrow. Bennie will need change after he has so bravely faced death; he shall go with you." "God bless you, sir !" said Blossom ; and who shall doubt that the prayer was heard and registered ? Two days after this interview the young soldier came to the "White House with his little sister. He was called into the President's private room, and a strap fastened "upon the shoulder," Mr Lincoln said, " that could carry a sick comrade's baggage, and die for the good act so uncomplainingly." Then Bennio and Blossom took their way to their Green Mountain home, and a crowd gathered at the mill depfit to welcome them back, and Farmer Owen's head towered above them all; and, as his hand grasped that of his boy, Mr Allan heard him say fervently, as the holiest blessing he could pronounce upon his child : "Just and true are Thy ways, Thou King of saints."—' Rare Bits.'