His constitution had not yet been fully developed; his muscles were not hardened, and the fatigues of battle and march had a more serious effect upon him than the ounce of lead which had struck him on the forehead.
The surgeon understood his case perfectly, and after dressing his wound, he administered some simple restoratives, and ordered the patient to go to sleep.

On the night of the 3d of May, he had been on guard duty; on that of the 4th, he had obtained but three hours' sleep; and thus deprived of the rest which a growing boy needs, he had passed through the fearful scenes of the battle, in which his energies, mental and physical, had been tasked to their utmost.

He was completely worn out, and in spite of the surroundings of the hospital, he went to sleep, obeying to the letter the orders of the surgeon.
After twelve hours of almost uninterrupted slumber, Tom's condition was very materially improved, and when the doctor went his morning round, our sergeant buoyantly proposed to join his regiment forthwith.
"Not yet, my boy," said the surgeon, kindly.

"I shall not permit you to do duty for at least thirty days to come," he added, as he felt the patient's pulse.
"I feel pretty well, sir," replied Tom.
"No, you don't.

Your regiment will remain here, I learn, for a few days, and you must keep quiet, or you will have a fever." "I don't feel sick, and my head doesn't pain me a bit." "That may be, but you are not fit for duty.