want a boy to go to the sad
wars to be shot, did you? Why did you not take care of him?"

A big tear came out of the poor man's eye, as Bell said this. It fell
down his thin face. He put up the back of his hand and took the tear
off. Then he said: "I have been cold; I know what it is to have no
food to eat; I have had no bed to lie on: I can bear all this with-out
a sigh; but, oh! I can not bear the loss of my Will, my dear boy!"

"Poor man!" said Lou, "come sit down by us, and tell us how your boy
came to go to the war; tell us all."

"Well, miss, if you wish to hear such a sad tale, I will tell you.
When the war came I had to go and help on our side. Then Will said:
'Oh! if you go, I must go too. You know I can beat the drum, if I can
not beat the bad men, who will try to do all they can to hurt us.'"

"Then I said: 'O no! Will; I can not let you go. They will kill you.'

"'Why, who can want to kill a boy like me? Come, dear pa-pa, do let me
go; I want to be with you, I love you so much. If you get hurt, I can
take care of you, and then I can beat the drum, or play on a fife.
Do, dear pa-pa, let me go with you; I will keep out of the way of the
big guns. Oh! I want to go.'

"At last I said: 'Well, Will, you may go.' He was so glad, he gave a
leap of wild joy. I was glad too, for I did love him so much. I felt
that I had no one to love or care for but him. My wife was dead, and
my Will was my all. If I went with-out him, he was to go and live with
an old aunt whom he did not know. So I said: 'Will, you can be with me
in my tent, and we will not part at all.'"

"How old was he?" said Lou.

"He was ten, but tall of his age." Then the poor man gave a deep sigh
and went on: "Oh! he was so glad; but it made me sigh to look at my
boy. He was in a glow all the time; he was sure we would win, and come
back to our home full of joy.

"They gave him a drum, and a cap, and a blue coat with a big cape
like the rest of us, and in his belt they put a dirk. When Will put
them on, he felt as fine as a new pin. Said he: 'I mean to pull out my
dirk, and poke it at all the bad men who try to get a shot at you.
Then I will get up in a tree, and beat my drum as hard as I can, to
call our men out to help me kill them. See if I don't! Oh! what fun
it will be!'

"My dear boy! he did not know what fear was."

Each day, as soon as he was out of bed, he came to kiss me, and tell me
how glad he was that I had let him go with me; 'for