ugly wound. Still he pressed on, firing, cheering, and charging with the remainder of his regiment. He seemed not to know the sensation of fear, and his youthful example on more than one occasion was the rallying point from which the men took fresh spirit. Suddenly at a late hour in the day, the little fellow fell, shot through the leg a few inches below the hip. He gave a cheer and told his father to go on. "Don't mind me," said he, "but keep on; I'll lie here till you come back." This, of course, the feelings of the parent would not permit him to do, and picking him up in his arms, he carried him to the nearest hospital. Within a day or two Charlie was brought to his home in Memphis, feeble, yet full of hope and courage. Dr. Keller was called upon to examine the wound, and, if necessary, to perform amputation; but at a glance his experienced eye saw that the poor boy was beyond the hope of recovery. Mortification had set in, and an operation would only increase his sufferings without prolonging life. The lad noticed the sober countenance of the physician as he turned away and went to an adjoining room to break the intelligence to the weeping father and mother. Nothing could be done but to relieve him of pain by means of opiates. A few moments afterward he returned to the bedside of the sufferer, when the young hero abruptly met him with the question, "Doctor, will you answer me a straightforward question, and tell me the truth?" The physician paused a moment, and then said: "Yes, Charlie, I will; but you must prepare for bad news." "Can I live?" was the response. "No; nothing can save you now but a miracle from heaven." "Well, I have thought so myself. I have felt as if I was going to die. Do father and mother know this?" "Yes," replied the surgeon, "I have just told them." "Please ask them to come in here. " When the parents had done so, and taken their places on either side of the bed, Charlie reached out, grasped their hands in his and said: "Dear father and mother, Dr. Keller says that I can't live. And now I want to ask your forgiveness for all wrong I have done. I have tried to be a good boy in every way but one, and that was when I disobeyed you both and joined the army. I couldn't help that, for I felt as if I ought to be right where you were, father, and to fight as long as I was able. I'm only sorry that I can't fight through the war. If I have said
