THE SOLDIER'S BURIAL.

FROM THE GERMAN.

It needs no great stretch of your imagination, dear reader, to accompany me to the scene of this anecdote. Only picture to yourself a barrack-yard, a company of soldiers drawn up in line, before which the captain, bedizzened and starched, is walking up and down; a plain black coffin, upon which rest a pair of white gloves, a glittering sabre, and a well-polished helmet; toward the end of the story imagine a church-yard, with its expectant grave, and you will have conjured up quite enough to answer my purpose. In that coffin reposes the body of an artillery-man, to whom his comrades are about to pay the last sad rites. If an officer die, he is escorted to the grave with martial music, by the whole regiment; but for a private soldier, his company alone turns out, and the band is considered quite unnecessary. The captain, stroking his mustache, now calls out: Attention! The soldiers become as quiet and motionless as if they were fastened to the ground. 'Forward the first six!' They step out from the ranks, and are about to raise up the coffin, preparatory to carrying it to the grave. Suddenly, with the most despairing and heart-felt anguish marked in her countenance, a poor woman bursts into the barrack-yard. She longs to gaze once more, for the last time, upon her son, the dead artillery-man. Notwithstanding the severe cold, for ten whole hours had she been on the road walking from the village where she lived, to town, hastening forward with all her might, in the hopes of at least being able to press her last farewell on the cold lips of her son. Falling almost prostrate before the captain, she implored him to have the coffin opened, only for a few minutes. But all was in vain the coffin had already been nailed up - for a lock and hinges would have been too expensive; the company was obliged to furnish eight men for the guard at twelve o'clock; it was already eleven; there was not a moment to lose. So the ceremony proceeeded, in spite of all the lamentations and entreaties of the distracted mother.

The poor fainting creature was supported by a soldier and taken to the guard-house; in the mean time the company, at the word of command, marched to the church-yard, and there formed a circle round the open grave. Then the captain, leaning upon his sword, and with down-cast eyes, thus began his funeral oration:

'O LORD! inscrutable are THY ways, and THY decrees are eternal secrets to us. Only four weeks ago, his Royal Highness our Prince, was summoned by THEE to a better world, and day before yesterday THOU calledst likewise away from us the artillery-man Miller. Yes! he is dead, stone dead, and we now have to perform over his body the last military honors. Look, soldiers there lies the fellow; although he was never once over-worked! But he caught cold while doing his duty to his king, and died in consequence of that, died honorably, serving his

country. But ten days ago he was upon guard; eight days ago from to-day, he put on his accoutrements for the last time; and now, here lies poor Miller, who was always a good soldier, cold and stiff before you. Therefore, let each of you perform his duty properly, and be obedient, both in and out of service, so that if you should be called away as suddenly as he was, you may enter the presence of your CREATOR with a clear conscience; for, as the Psalm-book informs us, it is but a step from life to death. Surely Miller deserved a better coffin, though, Sergeant! You should have seen to that.'

At this address, the sergeant stepped forward with the customary salute, and answered promptly :

At your orders, Captain.'

'Yes! but it is too late now why! the coffin-lid don't shut tight; and there the poor devil is lying, all crooked and doubled together at one end, and at the last day he will rise out of his grave a complete cripple. As I live, I can see some of his hair sticking out, too! If any one of his intimate friends wishes to cut off a lock, he may step forward and take it as a memento.'

Several artillery-men moved as if they would like to come forward. 'Recollect, you blockheads, there is to be no muttering, or I'll give you three extra tours of duty! Sergeant, just keep your eye on Newman, there. I believe the rascal is always finding fault with my orders. Devil take the rapscallion! As sure as there is a GOD in heaven, I'll take the smartness out of him! I'll ride him with a curb till he won't consider himself so wise! I wish we could only bury him instead of Miller, and then we should gain a good soldier and lose a bad one. It was never necessary to punish Miller; he was always clean and tidy; a first-rate fellow, 'pon honor! Yes, and if he had lived two years longer, I am sure he would have been made a noncommissioned officer; and he might, even, in after-years, have attained the rank of sergeant. But it is ever so! The best men seldom obtain their deserts. It is the duty of a good soldier to face the enemy boldly, and to conquer or to die. But when, in time of peace, he is not called upon to perform military service, he should endeavor to advance himself in some occupation of civil life. There is no use, however, in standing here and lamenting over our misfortunes; it will not restore poor Miller to life. Here he lies, dead, dead as a herring, as sure as there is a GOD in heaven. Now, lower the coffin into the grave.'

At this order, the men lowered the coffin with ropes, but without taking away the gloves, helmet, and sabre which were upon the lid, because there had been no command to that effect. This drew down from the captain a perfect avalanche of imprecations.

What you stupid clod-hoppers! Are you all going to the devil? Going to bury gloves, helmet, and sabre as if they cost nothing? Do you suppose that his majesty the king picks up your accoutrements ready made in the streets? I will now sprinkle a handful of earth on the coffin, in token of good fellowship with Miller, though he has gone to the next world. The company may then come forward, one by one, and do likewise.'

The soldiers, availing themselves of this permission, pressed eagerly

round the grave, each one striving to be first. This caused some disorder and irregularity. Conspicuous among the foremost was the unlucky Newman, who came next after the captain, and hurled two great clumps of earth on the coffin, so that it fairly bounced from the effect of the blow.

This afforded the captain a fresh opportunity of exhibiting his dislike to the poor fellow.

'May a thousand furies overwhelm the rascal ! The man must be raving, stark mad!' he roared out furiously. I suppose he wants to wake up Miller from his last sleep, so that he may make his appearance before the whole company with nothing but a shirt on, and freeze to death that would be a pretty piece of business, when his clothes have already been delivered to the quarter-master's department. Sergeant remember that this fellow is to have three additional tours of duty at the powder-mill. Now, perhaps he'll keep quiet, and not budge from his place; if he do n't, I'll make a fricasee of the scoundrel!'

The grave is slowly filled up with earth. When that part of the ceremony is over, the captain silently doffs his helmet, and at this signal the soldiers follow his example. The sergeant steps officiously to the side of his commander with the question:

'What prayer does it please our captain to order?'

'That's a fact, sure enough. I had forgotten to tell you that. Well, let every one that can, say the LORD's Prayer, and pray at that till I order you to stop.'

The captain shields his eyes with his helmet, taking good care, however, to hold it so that he can see over the top and watch his men, who, taking the hint from him, look earnestly at the lining of their helmets and pretend to pray.

Amen!' roars the captain; and then, in the same breath: 'Attention! company; left face, forward march!' and, at a quick step, away marches the whole company back to the barracks.

Give me back my son! Where is my son?' the poor mother, who has by this time recovered her senses, demanded of the soldiers as soon as she saw them returning to their quarters.

'He is buried, my good woman,' abruptly retorted the captain; 'buried with full military honors! Don't be so down-hearted, for he was a first-rate soldier; and 't is a great pity that he is dead. Now, go home, and tell your husband and children what I say.'

'Ah! they are all dead he was the last!' sobbed out the unfortunate creature.

'Why, then, go and get married again, and perhaps you will have some more children, who will grow up and be a fine set of fellows, just like him.'

Giving this piece of consolation, the captain walked off, while the poor old woman, half-stupefied, half-crazed by her loss, stood silently gazing after his retreating form.

Tears started to the eyes of the soldiers in the guard-house who had witnessed this scene. They made a collection amongst themselves, aud every man there contributed his last copper to enable the griefstricken mother to pursue her desolate journey home.