reck of a man. Yesterday--a soldier. To-day--a hero.
To-morrow--a crippled veteran, and after that a pensioner drifting fast
into a garrulous dotage. She, too, was looking into the future. She
knew what I had lost. She saw what I dreaded. Her eyes told me that.
She did not know what I had gained, for she came of a silly people
whose blood quickened only to the swing of a German hymn and who were
stirred more by the groans of a penitent sinner than the martial call
of the bugle.

So it came that I struggled to my crutches and broke rudely in on Perry
Thomas's peroration. I had gathered all my strength for a protest
against the future. The people of the valley were to know that their
kindness had cheered me, but of their pity I wanted none. I had played
a small part in a great game and in the playing was the reward. I had
come forth a bit bruised and battered, but there were other battles to
be fought in this world, where one could have the same fierce joy of
the conflict; and he was a poor soldier who lived only to be toted out
on Decoration days. I was glad to be home, but gladder still that I
had gone. That was what I told them. I looked right at the girl when
I said it, and she lifted her head and smiled. They heard how in the
early spring in the meadow by the mill-dam Tim and I had stopped our
ploughs to draw lots and he had lost. He had to stay at home, while I
went out and saw the world at its best, when it was awake to war and
strife, and the mask that hid its emotion was lifted. They heard a
very simple story and a very short one, for now that I came to recount
it all my great adventure dwindled to a few dreary facts. But as best
I knew I told them of the routine of the camp and of the endless drills
in the long spring days down there at Tampa before the army took to
sea. I spoke of the sea and the strange things we saw there as we
steamed along--of the sharks that lolled in our wake, of the great
turtles that seemed to sun themselves on the wave-crests, of the
pelicans and the schools of flying fishes. Elmer Spiker interrupted to
inquire whether the turtles I had seen were "black-legs, red-legs, or
yaller-legs." I had not the remotest idea, and said that I could not
see how the question was relevant. He replied that it was not, except
that it would be of interest to some of those present to learn that
there were three distinct kinds of "tortles"--red-legs, black-legs, and
"yaller-legs." The