Sometimes he became delirious from fever, uttering incoherent phrases, or swearing in pitiful weakness.

Again he would partially arouse to his old sense of soldierly duty, and assume intelligent command.

Now he twisted painfully about upon his side, and, with clouded eyes, sought to discern what man was lying next him.
The face was hidden so that all he could clearly distinguish was the fact that this man was not clothed as a soldier.
"Is that you, Hampton ?" he questioned, his voice barely audible.
The person thus addressed, who was lying flat upon his back, gazing silently upward at the rocky front of the cliff, turned cautiously over upon his elbow before venturing reply.
"Yes; what is it, sergeant?
It looks to be a beauty of a morning way up yonder." There was a hearty, cheery ring to his clear voice which left the pain-racked old soldier envious.
"My God!" he growled savagely.

"'T is likely to be the last any of us will ever see.

Was n't it you I heard whistling just now?
One might imagine this was to be a wedding, rather than a funeral." "And why not, Wyman?
Did n't you know they employed music at both functions nowadays?
Besides, it is not every man who is permitted to assist at his own obsequies--the very uniqueness of such a situation rather appeals to my sense of humor.