I warn't in no shape t' help meself an' I didn't know what she'd do. An' me heart was a-t'umpin' ag'in me ribs, an' me lettin' on I was dead! Till she put down her cheek so close to me mug dat I had t' move me head. An' she lifted me head wid her sof' white hands an' I don't know all she done; I was blubberin' so dat I couldn't see, but I knowed I were havin' fun. I lay wid me head 'n de lady's lap while de doctors cut an' sawed, An' dey hurted me so dat me eyes was sot, but I never cussed er jawed. An' she patted me cheek an' spoke so sof' dat I didn't move a peg, An' I t'ought if dey'd let me lay dere awhile dey could saw off de odder leg. Fer de loss o' me leg, t'ree times a year, I gets me little wad, But dere ain't any pension fer losin' yer heart unless it comes from Gawd. If anythin' busts ye there, me boy, I t'ink ye'll be apt t' find Ye'll either drop out o' de game o' life, er else go lame in yer mind. I never c'u'd know de reason why, till de lady helt me head, Dat a man 'll go broke fer de woman he loves er mebbe fight till he's dead. When I t'inks dat I never had no friends an' what am I livin' fer? I fergits dat I'm holdin' de wheel o' de Susq, an' I sets an' t'inks o' her. An' I t'inks how gentle she spoke t' me, an' I t'inks o' her sof', white hand, An' de feel o' her fingers on me face when she brushed off de dew an' de sand. An' I set a-t'inkin' an' turnin' me wheel, sometimes de whole night t'rough, An' de good Gawd knows I'd a giv' me life, if she'd only 'a' loved me too. THE BABY CORPS _Being some account of the little cadets of the Virginia Military Institute, who stood the examination of war at New Market, Va. May 15, 1864, in the front line of the Confederate forces, where more than three hundred answered to their names and all were perfect._ We were only a lot of little boys--they called us a baby corps-- At the Institute in Lexington in the winter of '64; And the New Year brought to the stricken South no end of the war in sight, But we thought we could whip the North in a week if they'd only let us fight. One night when the boys were all abed we heard the long roll beat, And quickly the walls of the building shook with the tread of hurrying feet; And when the battalion stood in line we heard the welcome warning: "Breckinridge needs the help o' the corps; be ready to march in the morning." And many a boastful tale was told, through the lingering hours of night, And the teller fenced with airy foes and showed how heroes fight. And notes of love were written with many a fevered sigh, That breathed the solemn sacrifice of those about to die.