Jane Boswell Moore
and the Christian Commission

One more incident from the many, and I close. I want to show bow a little girl's gift was bestowed, and to whom. Among some articles received by me from the Baltimore Commission, was a handsome Needle Bag, of soft red, white, and blue material, enclosing a few pieces of candy and a Carte de Visite of the giver. A note dated Gettysburg Pa., February 25th, accompanied it and read as follows

DEAR SOLDIER :-I can't do much for you, as I am a very little girl, but I think about you and pray for you too. I hope you are good and pray for yourself. When we had the battle here, I saw how you had to suffer, and I pity you. I carried things to the sick soldiers, and, if you were here, would do it for you. I send my picture that you may see how small I am. Good bye.
LITTLE CARRIE FAHNESTOCK.

Perhaps Carrie thought she would never hear of her offering again. We shall see. On the Church floor lay a bright black eyed boy, named George Hill, a clear little fellow whom our good Dr. Manown carried in his arms from the wagon, the night the wounded came in. "It's a child's weight," said the Dr., as he tenderly guarded the maimed hero, " And I'm only a child," answered the clear treble voice. Where could Carrie have found a fitter recipient for her present. This is Georgie's reply:

WARD T, SHERIDAN HOSPITAL,
November 5th, 1864.
DEAR LITTLE CARRIE: -- I am quite a little boy, and my name is Georgie Hill, Co. K, 13th West Virginia. I have been a soldier boy fourteen months, and was wounded in the leg with a minnie ball on the 19th of October, near Cedar creek, Va. I was carried to Newtown, and lay in a tent, and on the 20th, the Dr. took my right leg off. My father is dead, but I have a mother, three brothers and one sister in Mason Co., Va. Three of my brothers are dead, all soldiers, one died in the Mexican War, one at the siege of Vicksburg and one in the hospital at Gallapolis. Ohio. Mrs. and Miss Moore, who were at Gettysburg after the battle, are here taking care of us, and Miss Moore gave me your dear little present. She told me I must keep it as long as I live, to remember the time I lay wounded on the Church floor in Winchester, and I will. Yesterday they brought me to this hospital where the sick are all in tents, and I find mine very cold this windy day. I don't like it half so well as a house, and if I could, would not have left the warm Church. I was afraid Miss Moore would not know what tent I was in here, and so I should miss the nice things she brings round, but she found me to-day right in her ward. She got me a little puzzle box with seven pieces of wood, and if you know how, you can make squares, triangles, and funny figures. At first I could not put them all back into the box. I shall play with it when I go home, before I get my wooden lea, and am able to run round. We do suffer a great deal. One poor boy died next to me in the Church. He was in so mach pain, he could not tell where he lived nor his father's name. He was shot through the lungs and could hardly breathe. I heard him cry, "Oh I Lord help me! I can't tell my father's name! " I have not been home for fourteen months, and don't know when I shall get there. I have not heard from my mother for two months. Either she does not get my letters or I don't get hers, I don't know which. I am going to eat the candy after dinner--(I had some difficulty in convincing him of the propriety of waiting.) A lady brought me some pudding but it has lemon in it, and I don't like lemon, so I keep looking at the candy. Miss Moore asks if there is anything else I want to say. But I never wrote to you before, so you must excuse me, good bye Carrie.
Your little friend,
GEORGE HILL.

I hope Carrie will do more for the soldiers. I cannot close without acknowledging the kind assistance of Mr. Brackett, the Delegate from Maine, in charge of the station, who has furnished us with such articles as were at the Commission room. To Dr. Brock, also, I am indebted, as well as the suffering soldiers. May the time so soon come when we shall no more need to perform such acts of mercy! That the blessing of God may rest indeed and in truth, upon all who have aided us in our labor of Christian love, is my most earnest prayer, and upon none more than yourself.
I remain dear Sir, yours very truly,
JANE BOSWELL MOORE.