The Private's Letter

"Strange, it seems, to read your letter, Precious Bertie ! f 'uil of home - - Telling that yourblue-eyeil baby Is a laughiiig lassie grown ; That 'our boy wears frocks no lange- You have ent off all liis caris ; ' Ah. love, did you under'stand hiui When 'he thought them like a girl 1 ' " Do you know that never liero Of the reddest flelds we've won, Glories in bis liard-earned laurels With suoh trimnph as our son '! ' Bootst ' - ah, wife, our little Arthur Needs his l'ather home to-lay ! I could botter uiiderstand it, ' That grand, independent way !' " ' I uiust think I see you writing, Sitting at the open door, With the moniing-glories swinging As they gwung two years before And the sunshine tliokers softly Through the grape-vine oveihead ; I can see it all, my darling, That your pen has leít unsaid. " Ah, sweet wife ! my soul is stronger For this üny, perfuraed sheet, H will keep my spirit ;.urer Until someday we will mpet, Either in our pleasaut oottage, Wbere we parted, we shall ïueet, Or, wliera i'arewelfs are not spoken, In the city's golden street." So the sunset glow turns purple, And the tents in shadow lay, And the men, around the camp-fire, Laughiii!?, yot half sadly, say, " Private Mills forgets liis supper For that liltle woniars sake, Over her half-open letter He lies dreaming, wide-avsake."