“The two armies rested till the next day, when a still fiercer attempt was made to rout the rebels, but in spite of the most stubborn fighting, our army was withdrawn from the field, and fell back to Fairfax Court House; but the next evening, September 1st, Stonewall Jackson made another attack upon General Popes flank, which was resisted hotly, and General Kearney, with Hooker, Reno, McDowell and Stevens, were there to help, but General Stevens fell dead at their fire, and as all their ammunition had been used up, his men retired at once. General Kearney started forward to reconnoiter, and was confronted by a Confederate band; he put spurs to his horse, hoping to escape, but they shot him dead.” Bill shook his head solemnly, and leaning back on his pillow, he closed his eyes, as if he had fallen asleep. Glad to have awakened even so slight attention as he had succeeded in doing, the boy continued: “Bill, we have a new commander now. The President has relieved General McClellan, and we are to have General Burnside. What do you think of that?” A look of the old time came into Bill's face, as he answered: “Yes, I have a new commander--one whose call will soon be heard!” Ralph shuddered. He knew too well the meaning of Bills words. “I mean our army commander, Bill; General McClellan has been relieved of his command, and General Burnside has been appointed in his place.” “General {141}McClellan--yes, he's too slow. It needs some one with a little push. But it's all the same to me, now.” And that was all he said about the change. He lay on his cot, looking intently at Ralph, and suddenly he broke out with--“I don't know why I'm so fond of you, boy, unless it's 'cause you mind me of Eddie. He was just such a little plucky, fair-faced lad as you are, and I can't help mixing you up with him.” Ralph wondered who Eddie was, but he waited patiently. Bill's eyes burned with a luster the boy had never seen there before. The sick man's face was very thin. The brown tint that outdoor life always gives had faded, and the sharp features looked more pinched and wan from their pallor. He went on in a weak and trembling voice: “She was a beauty, and I was powerful fond of her. Her eyes were like a young fawn's, and her hair was brown as the chestnuts when they ripen in the sun. She liked Frank better nor me, and she told me so. Then when they were married, I hated him bitterly. But when the little fellow come, and they sent for me, somehow from the first time I took the little tot in my arms, and he smiled up into my face, all my anger died out. After that I would have died sooner than harm his daddy. They were happy with each other. But he died when the lad was ten or so, and left the poor wife alone. I didn't know how to comfort her, and she grieved continually. One day, when he was quite a lad, nearly sixteen, and needed his mother most, they found her dead on her husband's grave. Ah, that is the way some women love!