Samuel Hopkins Adams

“ Brown.
"Now, the best thing you can do is to start right in and look through the tents. If you—I mean, when you find him, send me word. I 'll get quarters for you with the nurses, somehow—though the Lord knows where, for they 're sleeping in trunks now," he added to himself. "Wish I had some one to send with you but—wait a moment."
A young man, shabby and worn as were all in that weary camp, entered the tent and gave the Major good day. In return the Major furnished him with a name and some details. "Know anything about such a man?" he asked, in conclusion. The young man shook his head. ”

“ You 're shaking."
"It is nothing," she said sweetly. "Go on—my boy."
"Keep your hand on my forehead. It feels so cold; it helps me to think. When we got to the trenches one of the biggest, hairiest tarantulas in all Cuba popped out of a hole right in front of Dutchy. He began to shiver all over. Just like you did, then. Don't you like spiders, mother?"
"He's piling it on," whispered Major Brown. "She can't stand much more. Well, it can't last much longer. He's almost gone. This is the last flicker."
"Yes, sir; I thought Dutchy was going to make a sneak from that bug," continued the boy. ”

“ Here, for the first time, the driver was able to withdraw attention from his motive power.
"Friend o' Capt'in Chase's, be ye?" he asked.
"I do not know him," said the woman.
"Gentleman that put ye in my rig."
"Ah! He is a soldier, then?"
"No, ma'am. He's an officer. Provost Marshal o' this camp. He's a terror, he is! Don't think of nothin' but work an' makin' other folks work."
"He thought of a stranger's need," she said softly.
The driver looked at her with shrewd, Long Island surmise. "Searchin' fer a boy o' yours, I bet." ”

“ General Hospital up here; First Division over yonder; Detention Hospital back a ways. Chuck the sick soldiers in wherever it comes handiest. No labels to 'em or nothin'."
"Labels?" queried the woman.
"Sure," said the driver cheerfully. "To tell who they are. Lots of 'em don't know, no more 'n a lump o' mud. Plumb looney. Or senseless."
The woman's calm features contracted with pain.
"Was he a private?" continued the loquacious Jehu.
"A private of the Sixth Cavalry. Perhaps some of his officers——"
"Oh, shucks! They would n't know. Don't nobody know about privates. They don't count. ”

“ Pile 'em up any place. May not even have got up here from Cuby at all. Why, they 's officers been missin' here for more 'n a week and no trace of 'em. If they can't look out for officers, what chance d' you s'pose a private 's got?"
"Gott mich erbarme!" murmured the woman.
"Oh, say, ma'am," cried the Long Islander in quick contrition. "I did n't go for to pester your feelin's. Like as not you 'll find him, slick an' easy. Anyhow, Major Brown 'll git him if he's here. This is the Major's quarters. No, ma'am; I don't want no pay. ”

“ But he was a bit of a coward, that correspondent. I ought to know, for I was the man.
Something about medical supplies gone wrong called Captain Chase from his thousand and one other duties, to the General Hospital that afternoon. Outside of the latest erected tent he met Major Brown.
"Ought to be court-martialed for unloading that woman on you," said the Provost Marshal. "Could n't help it. She wanted her son and she had to have him, and I had to help. ”

“ A hurrying express official—an executive of some importance who had contributed his own "personal supervision" to the increase of confusion—bumped into them, head over shoulder. The man caught at his sleeve. ”