CLARA BARTON. A wounded Confederate that Clara Barton had been serving whispered to her, “Lady, you have been kind to me—every street and lane in the city is covered with cannon. When your entire army has reached the other side of the Rappahannock, they’ll find Fredericksburg only a slaughter pen. Not a regiment will escape. Do not go over or you will go to certain death.” PERCY H. EPLER. AT GALVESTON FLOOD Major McDowell, ex-Union soldier, wounded—assistant to Clara Barton: Comrade, here is some clothing for you. Ex-Confederate: But, Major (hesitating), I am an ex-Confederate soldier.... Major McDowell: God bless you, poor suffering soul; what difference does that make—here, will this fit you? Love and tears for the Blue Tears and love for the Gray. FRANCES MILES FINCH. CONFEDERATES AND FEDERALS ALIKE TREATED Quite a number of wounded Confederate officers were brought to us. They shared alike with our own men. They were amazed, said C. M. Welles, at the kindness of northerners, particularly at a Massachusetts lady (Clara Barton) devoting herself to them as freely as to her own neighbors. One of them, a captain from Georgia, needed shirt, coat, stockings and something to eat. After being supplied, he said to me, while tears were streaming down his face, “Sir, I find that I have mistaken you; and, if I live to return, I will never fight against such a people any more.” An Angel of Mercy,—her touch they will miss, That was felt by the Boys of the Blue and the Gray; But her name is still fragrant with Service, and this Will inspire their sons in the Cause of Today. At Fredericksburg a shell shattered the door of the room in which Miss Barton was attending to wounded men. True to her mission, she did not flinch but continued her duties as usual. She found a group of Confederates with their garments frozen fast in the mud. As the wounded were helpless, Miss Barton got an axe and chopped them loose. She then built a fire in a negro cabin and, while the wounded were warming themselves she dressed their wounds, fed them gruel and otherwise cared for them as if they were her “Brothers in Arms.” A KNOT OF BLUE AND GRAY Upon my bosom lies A knot of blue and gray; You ask me why; tears fill my eyes As low to you I say: I had two brothers once, Warm hearted, bold and gay; They left my side—one wore the blue The other wore the gray.