A Hospital Scene

A lady who went to the Tennessce Hiver to vísit her husband who was iu the arniy, and who spent some time as a nurse in eme of the bospitals, gives au account of her experieüce. We quote tha followieg touohing sketch froru one of her letters : My next patiënt was an . orphan boy, sixteen years of age. Frank B , belonged to Birge's sharj shooters, and a braver heart never beit in the bosom of mortul tlian tliat which bout in his. Frankie's blue eyes greeted me with a siiiüe before I "as near enough to speak to liim. When I bent over and asked him how hc feit, he answered me cheerfully, saying he hoped to be able sooü to return to his regiment. I b#thed hisfaee, gave hiin a cup of hut lea, with BODie toast, and left him slet-ping sweetly Pooi' little Frank B. daily grew weak2r. Notb.:g could tempt hiiu toeat, and liis Qough grew worse, whilo his face be same tliin and pale. He never lo.t his oyous spirit, but alwa_v.s seenud hopeful, oven wlien too ill to rise freno his Lerth. One aftcmoon I was start led ou entering, by the most piteous criei, and fouud ihat thcy carne frotn my little favorito, eneiyllv so brave and patieut " Why, Frankie, what is the matter ?" [ asked, bonding over him. " Oh, you have come ! I did wish for ,'ou so niucb, Oh, I shall die, I wanted lomebody by vtIio seemed to care for me i little. ïuu do like me, dou't you, !ear Mrs. S. ? Yott've been so krtid o me. Oh, t his pain ! i can't stand it or.g I" His liands grasped mine nervously, md every fibre in his frame quivered ïith paiu. I saw the dews of death ïcre standing thiekly already on the )road, beautiful forehead over which the 'air hair clustered so pivttily, and my iyea fil'ed with tears of' sorrow deeper han words ean espress. I stooped to ;iss him, and a glad cry cscaped the oor blue lips ol ihe dying boy. ''Oh, kiss me again, wou't you? that s liko my sister. Du kiss me once more; [ feel bctter Oh, I would n't mind to lie, if my sisters were bere to teil me hey loved uio. You do love me a litio, dou't you?:' , '! Yes a great deal, Frankie : as much .8 it I were your sister. Dou't you thiuk o ? l'm sure you re a good boy, and l am sorry to see you Buffer 80." lic drew uic down tjward him, and preeaed his face eloe to my arma I could endure no moro. Tbe poor boy's mute appeal for tenderness and sympathy in bis dy'mg buur, t'ar froni home, breathing out bis youug iife ainid strangers, unnerved ne. 1 drew tliat young briglit head to my bosoiu, and my toars feil fast. upon bis stitiny curls. Did tbe gentío sisters he loved have one thougbt of tbe scène tbat was trauspiring on tbat niglit, whiie perebance tbey sat and talked of him, tbeir only and petted brotber in tbeir far oñ' home in Nebraska? " You will ptay with me to night, won't you ?" he plead again. " Oh, you won't leave me to dio alone I" " No, Frankie, I'll stay witb you." He was comforted, and became more quiet ae I clasped bis bands and tried to soothe him. Gradually a purple hue overspread his face. iNow his lips became wbiter, and the large olear eyes grew restless. hen he eould no longer speak, thnse eyes plead for souie token of eudeanuent, and each time tbat I pressed a kiss upon bis forehead, a look of dcep and earnest gratitude softened tlie sutfering expression of bis face About nine o'cloek be breathod bis last, and now every time I look down at my hand and see tbe linie ring of mine he wore bef'ore he died, I seein to see the parting look of bis great sad eyes ere tbey werefixed in dcath. Howsad the task to biusb back tbe damp locks from the cold brow. and compose tbe blue litubs in tbeir last repose ! That nigbt I wept and prayed for the sisters as 1 had never wept and prayed for myself be yas a!l tbey bad