“Not long since,” said a soldier, “a lot of us–I am a H. P., ‘high private,’ now–were quartered in several wooden tenements, and in the inner room of one lay the corpus of a young secesh officer awaiting burial. The news soon spread to a village not far off, and down came a sentimental, not bad-looking specimen of a Virginia dame.
“‘Let me kiss him for his mother!’ she cried, as I interrupted her progress. ‘Do let me kiss him for his mother!’
“‘The dear little Lieutenant, the one who lies dead within. I never saw him, but, O’—
“I led her through a room in which Lieut. —–, of Philadelphia, lay stretched out in an upturned trough, fast asleep. Supposing him to be the article sought for, she rushed up, exclaiming, ‘Let me kiss him for his mother,’ and approached her lips to his forehead. What was her amazement, when the ‘corpse’ clasped his arms around her, and exclaimed, ‘Never mind the old lady, miss; go it on your own account. I haven’t the slightest objection.'”