With Sabre and Scalpel: The Autobiography of a Soldier and Surgeon

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Harper & Brothers, 1914 - 534 pages

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Page 531 - Society ; the degree of Doctor of Laws was conferred upon him by the University of Glasgow in 1806; and in 1808 he was elected a member of the French Institute.
Page iii - My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth ; But higher far my proud pretensions rise — The son of parents passed into the skies.
Page 186 - The years creep slowly by, Lorena ; The snow is on the grass again ; The sun's low down the sky, Lorena ; The frost gleams where the flowers have been.
Page 299 - Hitchcock ; it is hard on our men held in Southern prisons not to exchange them, but it is humanity to those left in the ranks to fight our battles. Every man released on parole, or otherwise, becomes an active soldier against us at once, either directly or indirectly.
Page 427 - What Exile from himself can flee ? To zones though more and more remote, Still, still pursues, where'er I be, The blight of life— the demon Thought.
Page 256 - Hello! " I said to myself, " if the general is crossing himself, we are in a desperate situation." I was on my horse in a moment. I had no sooner collected my thoughts and looked around toward the front, where all this din came from, than I saw our lines break and melt away like leaves before the wind. Then the headquarters around me disappeared. The graybacks came through with a rush, and soon the musket balls and the cannon shot began to reach the place where we stood.
Page 472 - The removal of the lower limb at the coxofemoral articulation may be properly regarded as the gravest operation that the surgeon is ever called upon to perform, and it is only within a comparatively recent period that it has been accepted as a justifiable procedure. The most pressing risk is that of hemorrhage.
Page 61 - try to get away. Dis nigger run, he run his best, Stuck his head in a hornet's nest, Jumped de fence and run fru de paster; White man run, but nigger run faster.
Page 518 - TO MY MOTHER Deal gently with her, Time! these many years Of life have brought more smiles with them than tears. Lay not thy hand too harshly on her now, But trace decline so slowly on her brow That (like a sunset of the northern clime, Where twilight lingers in the summer time, And fades at last into the silent night, Ere one may note the passing of the light) So may she pass — since 'tis the common lot — As one who, resting, sleeps, and knows it not.
Page 115 - Alley," about three hundred yards above her residence; then passed due west to Antietam, and thus out of the city. But another and stranger fact with regard to this matter may be here presented — viz: The poem by Whittier represents our venerable relative (then ninetysix years of age), as nimbly ascending to her attic window and waving her small Federal flag defiantly in the face of Stonewall Jackson's troops. Now, what are the facts at this point? Dame Barbara was, at the moment of the passing...

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