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Updated: May 14, 2025
A sad-faced woman in black moved slowly down the line of cots led by a sympathetic nurse. She came to one bed, stopped as though in doubt, passed her hand over her face as if she did not want to admit that what she saw she did see, and then she fell on her knees in a passion of weeping, while the surgeons turned away their heads. She had found what she had sought.
Thus he has given us 'The Returned Volunteer, or How the Fort was Taken, being a group of three gathered in a blacksmith's shop, the characters consisting of the blacksmith himself, standing with his right foot on the anvil block, and his big hammer in his hands, listening eagerly, with his little girl, to a soldier who sits close by on his haunches, narrating 'how the fort was taken, We have also another group of three, 'The Picket Guard, spiritedly sketched, as in eager, close, and nervous search for the enemy; the 'Sharpshooters, another group of three, or rather of two men and a scarecrow, illustrating a curious practice in our army of deceiving the enemy; the 'Town Pump, a scene in which a soldier, uniformed and accoutered, is slaking his thirst and holding blessed converse beside the pump with a pretty girl who has come for a pail of water; the 'Union Refugees, a pathetic and noble group, consisting of a stalwart and sad-faced East Tennesseean or Virginian, who accompanied by his wife, who leans her head upon his bosom, and by his little boy, who looks up eagerly into his face, has started off from home with only his gun upon his shoulder and his powder-horn by his side, to escape the tyranny of the rebels; 'The Camp Fire, or Making Friends with the Cook, in which a hungry soldier, seated upon an inverted basket, is reading a newspaper to an 'intelligent contraband, who is stirring the contents of a huge and ebullient pot hung over the fire; 'Wounded to the Rear, or One More Shot, in which a soldier is represented as dressing his wounded leg, while his companion, with his left arm in a sling, is trying to load his gun to take another shot at the enemy, at whom he looks defiantly; 'Mail Day, which tells its own story of a speculative soldier, seated on a stone and racking his poor brains to find some ideas to transcribe upon the paper which he holds upon his knee, to be sent perchance to her he loves; 'The Country Postmaster, or News from the Army, which, though a scene from civil life, tells of the anxiety of the soldier's wife or sweetheart to get tidings from the brave volunteer who is periling his life on the battle-field; 'The Wounded Scout, or a Friend in the Swamp, representing a soldier, torn, and bleeding, and far gone, rescued and raised up by a faithful and kind-hearted negro which we think is one of the best, if not the very best, of Mr.
It would be no joke, if he should invade us with the sword in one hand, and the Koran, or whatever he may call his revelation, in the other." "Oh, don't be alarmed. He is quite harmless, and even unobtrusive. A sad-faced, pale, feeble-looking, white-bearded old man. He won't attack you, or probably even speak to you. I will tell you all I know of him.
The woman waiting on her, a sad-faced mulatto, middle-aged and respectable- looking, went patiently round the room, doing or seeming to do some trifles of business, then stood still and looked at the child, who was intent on her book. "Come, Miss Daisy," said she at last, "wouldn't you like to be undressed?" The words were said in a tone so low they were hardly more than a suggestion.
The gold alone perhaps would not have won, but the gold and the place the place he had planned for and felt so certain of owning that was too much! And now this big sad-faced preacher the Irishman again, and the bank! The more the Judge thought over Dan's quiet words, the more he saw the danger.
Sherwood awaited her husband's directions, her brother's wife appeared one day, bearing the sad announcement that Charley had fallen in the last battle; and though Mrs. Sherwood had been expecting this from the first, her grief was more distressing to witness than that of the afflicted, sad-faced wife. But there had been no hope in Mrs.
Then they set off down across the slope, arriving at the cabin in due time. The door was open; a young woman, sweet, yet sad-faced, was seated upon the steps, fast asleep. Redburn gave an involuntary cry of incredulity and admiration as his eyes rested upon the picture upon the pure, sweet face, surrounded by a wealth of golden, glossy hair, and the sylph-like form, so perfect in every contour.
The sad-faced young man held up his hand for attention. He thought. Visibly. Then he said worriedly: "I would take you over to my laboratory, but I promised my wife I would call her in half an hour from now. Johnny Simms' wife just reminded me. My wife is back on Earth. So you will have to go to the laboratory without me and have Mr. Jones show you the proof of my work.
Her old grandmother, a little bent figure in a loose calico wrapper, was rocking in a chair by the stove. Julia's mother was helpless in a great wheeled chair, with blankets and pillows carelessly disposed about her, and her eager eyes bright in a face chiselled by pain. Sitting at the table was a heavy, sad-faced woman, with several front teeth missing, in whom Julia recognized her aunt, Mrs.
Marm and grandmarm liked it better. "Deary me!" ejaculated grandma, "it's an age since you were here." "A whole week," declared Marjorie, standing on tiptoe to hang up her sack and hat on a hook near the shelves. "Nobody much comes in and it seems longer," complained the old lady. "I think she's very good to come once a week," said Hollis' sad-faced mother.
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