In the cool, darkened room of the improvised Patriot Hospital in Charleston, a young man in the uniform of a Continental, read aloud to his much-bandaged friend. The subject of their attention was a long-delayed letter from the invalid's sister, in which she dwelt lightly on the hardships at home, and came forth strongly in praise of her brother's hardy deeds. "If it wasn't for Dick," said the wounded boy, faintly, but with a smile, "you would imagine I was the Patriot army all by myself."…
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