I. I do not see I do much good, but I cannot leave.  Some youngster holds on to me convulsively.  I do what I can: stop with him, sit near […]

“In Brooklyn, in an old vault, mark’d by no special recognition, lie huddled at this moment the undoubtedly authentic remains of the staunchest and earliest patriots from the British prison […]

I breathe. The surgeon removes loose splinters  of bone from the neighborhood of a soldier’s wound.    A bloodless, brown-skinn’d face with eyes  billowing in blue flame grit, he bears […]