She tied it up in a little piece
of old-fashioned lawn, dotted with wee blue flowers, and always carried
it in her bosom. But this was not all. She had a dainty little glass
salt-cellar, scarcely larger than the inside of a humming-bird's nest,
and, what was more precious than this, a tiny, wooden doll. This doll
had been her constant companion. It had black eyes and hair, and was
indeed very pretty. At Woodworth's camp, Patty told "Dolly" all her joy
and gladness, and who can not pardon the little girl for thinking her
dolly looked happy as she listened?
Patty Reed is now Mrs. Frank Lewis, of San Jose, Cal. She has a pleasant
home and a beautiful family of children. Yet oftentimes the mother, the
grown-up daughters, and the younger members of the family, gather with
tear-dimmed eyes about a little sacred box. In this box is the lock of
hair in the piece of lawn, the tiny salt-cellar, the much loved "Dolly,"
and an old woolen mitten, in the thumb of which are yet the traces of
fine crumbs.
Chapter XVI.
A Mother at Starved Camp
Repeating the Litany
Hoping in Despair
Wasting Away
The Precious Lump of Sugar
"James is Dying"
Restoring a Life
Relentless Hunger
The Silent Night-Vigils
The Sight of Earth
Descending the Snow-Pit
The Flesh of the Dead
Refusing to Eat
The Morning Star
The Mercy of God
The Mutilated Forms
The Dizziness of Delirium
Faith Rewarded
"There is Mrs.
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