A Story Of The Rebellion

The tender mercies of eecession aro cruel. I havo just heard the sad story of a widow who has buried two sona at'd a daugliter siuca the outbreak oí rebellion. Thoy feil bv the hand of violonce. She lived in the White lliver country, a land of bilis and of ignorance. In that country, she and her family stood almost alone upon the side of the National Un ion. Her neighbors were advocates of iebellion, and before the nrrival of our army in ipringfield, all loyal citizens were warned that they must leave their homes or die. It was little that the poor widow had to leave - a raiserablo log-cabin and a small patoh of hillside - but such as it was, she was preparing to abandon it when her sou Harvcy left her, in search of craployment. Sho packed his bundie with a heavy hoart, took a silk handkfrchicf from her neck, gave it to him, and kissed bim good-bye, never expecting to see him again. He had not been gone many days when her persecution began. Her little boy was or.e evcning bringing in wood for the fire, when a shot was heard - a bullet struck the log under his arm, and he dropped it with a soreara. The ball had just missed bil heart. Joy at his escape from death was heneeforth minglcd with glooray apprehension. Next, she heard of the death of Harvey. He had found a home, and fancying himself secure, was alone at work in the field. The family with whom he lived were absent. When they returned at noon they found hia dead body in the house, pierced by a bullet. His torn cap and other signa witnessed to the severity of his struggle, before he yielded to his miirderer. From tbis time the family of Mrs. Willis lived in constant fear. Ooe day a mn was fired at them as they sat nt dinncr. Often they saw men prowling about with guus, looking for the young men. One man was bold euough to come iuto the cabin in search of thein. At night they all hid in the woods and slept. The poor woman was one day gathering corn in the gaiden and William was sitting upoa the fence. "Dou't sit theri', YVilliain," said his mother, "you are too fair a mark for a shot," Williaw went to the door and sat upon the step. " William," said his sister, " you are not safe there. Come into tho house.'' Hoobeyed.' He was sitting between two beds, when suddenly another shot rang upon the air, and the widow's sec ond son, Samuel, whom she hud not noticed sitting by another door, rose to his feet, staggered a few steps towards his mother, and feil a corpso before her. "I never wished any oue in torment before," she said, " but I did wish the man that killed him was there." Her th ree oldest sons at once left the cabin and fled over the hills. They are all in the National army to day. Sam uel's sister washed the cold clay and dressed it fcr the grave. After two duys thosecession neighbors cametobury him. At first the frantic mother refustd to let them touch his body. At last. she consented. The elods were falling upon the coffin, each sound awakening an echo in her athing heart, when a whippoorwill fluttercd down with i ts wild, mehincholy cry, and settlod ia the open grave. The nme so terrified tho cousience stricken, suporstitious wretehes, that for a moment they fled in dismay. Two of her children were now in the tomb. Three had escaped for their lives. The unhappy wotnan was left with her two ilaughters and three small children helpless and alone. Sho was obliged to go thirty miles upon horseback to the mili for food, and aftorward to return on foot, leading her horse by ihe bridle, with the sack or me il upon bis back. ün her return she met her children, about a mile and a hall from lier own house. In her neighbor'a yard her two boys, aged ten and twelve years were digging anothcr grave - the grave of an old man, murdered in her absence, for the crime of loyalty to the Union. Together with n whiteheaded patriot, who tottered with age, they placad the corpse upon a board, rolled it, unpreparcd for burial and uncsffined, iuto the shallow pit, and then covered it with earth. such are the trials of loyal citizons in the border slave Statoa, and wherever rebollion luis been in power. The widow now escaped for refuge to Springfield. And here, to crown her sorrows, in the absence of her three oldest remaininn; sons, a drunken soldier of the Fifth Kansas Regiment shot her daughter Mary, as sUe was standing in tlie door of her houío. Is it any wonder that this woman s hair is gray, ner icrehead full of wrinkles, or that she should say, with trerauloua tones. " I feel that I shall not livo long. The only tlung whioh sustains me is the love of Christ." Northern people knownothing of the