suming his story, said:

"Just as Tom had finished what he was saying, I heard the garden gate
open and shut, and David and Harvey appeared in the moonlight in front
of the porch. These were my second and youngest sons. David lived some
five miles from Allentown, on a farm, and Harvey had been staying at his
house, helping do the farm work. They were both very much excited. Their
mother, who had left. Mary Anderson in the parlor, came out to enjoy the
fresh air with us, and observing the excited condition of her two sons,
exclaimed:

"'Why, my dear boys! what is the matter?'

"David spoke to his mother, saying:

"'Do not get excited or alarmed when I tell you that Harvey and I have
made a solemn vow this evening that we will start to Washington city in
the morning.'

"'For what, my dear sons, are you going?' inquired the mother, much
troubled.

"'We are going to tender our services to the President in behalf of the
Union. Harvey is going along with me, believing it his duty. As I was
educated by the Government for the military service, I deem it my duty
to it, when in danger from this infamous and unholy rebellion, to aid in
putting it down.'

"Their mother raised her hands and thanked God that she had not taught
them lessons of patriotism in vain. She laid her head upon David's manly
breast and wept, and then clasped Harvey in her arms and blessed him as
her young and tender child, and asked God to preserve him and return him
safely to her, as he was her cherished hope. Peter, who had been silent
during the entire evening, except the bare suggestion to Tom to enter
the service, now arose from where he was sitting, and extending his hand
to David, said:

"'My old boy, I am with you. I shall commence at once to raise a
company.'

"David turned to his mother and laughingly said:

"'Mother, you seem to have taught us all the same lesson.'

"His mother's eyes filled with tears as she turned away to seek Mary.
She found her in the parlor teaching her sweet little daughter her
prayers. My wife stood looking at the pretty picture of mother and child
until little Mary Anderson finished, kissed her mamma, and ran off to
bed; then entering the room she said:

"'Mary, my child, I am too weak to speak. I have held up as long as I
can stand it,' and then burst into tears. Mary sprang to her at once,
clasping her in her arms.

"'Dearest auntie, what is the matter? Are you ill?

"'No! no! my child; I am full of fear