In one bed a young man
Company K, Seventh Maine
Sick with dysentery and typhoid fever
Pretty critical case
I talk with him often
He thinks he will die
Looks like it too
I let him talk to me a little, but not much
Advise him to keep very quiet
Do most of the talking myself
Stay quite awhile with him, as he holds on to my hand
Talk to him in a cheering, but slow, low and measured manner
Talk about his furlough, and going home as soon as he is able to travel
He suffers horribly
Has to be constantly dosed with morphine
His face ashy and glazed, bright young eyes
He asked me to read him a chapter in the new testament --
How Christ rose again
I read very slowly, for he was feeble
It pleased him very much, yet there were tears in his eyes.
He asked me if I enjoyed religion
I said, "Perhaps not in the way you mean."
He said, "It is my chief reliance."
He talked of death and said he did not fear it
I said, "Don't you think you will get well?"
He said, "I may, but it is not likely."
And he turned his face away from me, and died
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