The Argosy — page 171: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Our Midday. 159 I am only giving a sketch, and it is all too recent to require descrip- tion or words of mine ; all I need say is, Captain Lee got command of the Fury, was ordered to the Gold Coast, and that Harry asked to be appointed to her. God help England when her sons are not ready to volunteer, and God help the mothers when they are! God help the aching hearts that are weeping sore for him that goeth away, for he shall return no more, nor see his native country ! “T may have a chance of the Victoria Cross, you know, mother, now,” he said that last evening. “Yes, my boy,” she said, quietly, her white fingers lingering lovingly in the curls, from which she had just cut a long, thick lock. “Yes, my boy,” but I saw her lip quiver, and the far-away look came into her eyes again, praying for the curly head in the day of battle—praying he might yet come again from the land of the enemy. From Captain Lee, R.N., to Mrs. Woodhouse. “DEAR Mrs. WooDHOUSE,—I grieve much to write particulars of the death of young Grenville, the bravest lad that ever was, beloved by all, regretted by all. He asked me to write to you to break it to his mother, but I fear Mrs. Grenville will have learnt it by telegram before this reaches you, though I write by the first mail. “‘ He was not far from me, and by darting forward received the shot intended for myself. He was shot near the spine, and fell. I saw it was a mortal wound as soon as we raised him, but he was calm and quite conscious. ‘Captain,’ he said, ‘ tell Helen I saved you, she'll be so glad. And tell my dear mother ’—there he stopped, and tears filled his eyes (and mine too, I may most truly say)—‘ dear mother,’ he went on, ‘we wanted the Victoria Cross, mother and I; tell her I tried for it—and I’ve always said my prayers—and I’m glad I did—troublesome waves of this world—tell her, please sir—she, knows what I mean—and I’ve no pain.’ ‘No, there was no pain. His young face, looking really ‘as it had been the face of an angel,’ so calm to the last—and the last came very soon—showed there was no pain. And just before the last—you know what a splendid voice he had—just before the last he suddenly sang two lines of a favourite hymn :— “<*The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on.’ “Tt was the last effort ; the low, clear notes, and the touching words, ‘I am far from home,’ were quite overpowering to all who heard him. “What can I say? what words can express my sorrow, my distress, that he should have given his young life for mine? How can I write to poor Mrs. Grenville? He thought for her and asked me to write to you. ‘Break it gently to my mother,’ he said. When I think ‘of comicbooks.com ‘