“Yes, Doctor, and the story of that and his recovery is a very singular one. Peter searched diligently for him, but failed to find him; this distressed him so much that he decided to ask for a leave and return home, so as to stay a short time with the family and do what he could to help us bear the sorrow of the Colonel's supposed death. After our grief-stricken family could have the patience to listen to his recitals, he gave us the story just as I have told it. Mrs. Anderson, although stricken down with grief, insisted that her husband was not killed, or he would have been found among the slain; that a man of such marked features would have been noticed by some one who did the interring. The Captain insisted that there could be no doubt but that he was killed. Time passed on, but little Mary would continually ask, 'If her papa was dead?' 'Was he shot?' Who had killed him?' and a thousand other questions which constantly kept her mother thinking of the Colonel's fate, and soon she determined to go in search of him. Peter was leaving for his regiment, now under command of Colonel Rice. Col. Anderson having been reported as killed, Rice had been promoted Colonel, and the regiment had moved with the army in a southwesterly direction some considerable distance from Dolinsburg. Still there had been troops left there, so that it was perfectly safe to visit the battle-field, there being no rebel force in that part of the country at that time. I agreed to go with her, and made all the arrangements necessary for the family; the farm of Col. David having been looked after, and our family-school reorganized under Jennie, which had become demoralized by the news of Col. Anderson's death. In the meantime we had heard from Col. David and James, who were well, and also had letters from Stephen and Henry; both had joined the army: Stephen in an infantry regiment from Ohio, where he lived, and Henry in a cavalry regiment from Michigan, where he had been employed for a time in surveying for a company; so at this time I had one son left not yet in the army, he being my third son, Jackson, who was then engaged in railroading in Minnesota. We had not heard from him for some time, and his mother was sorely troubled, expecting soon to hear of the last of the Lyons being in the army. This, she thought, was a little more than ought to be required of any one family.” “So say I, Uncle Daniel,” spoke up several of the listeners.