one of company "E" when on the march,
halting in line, could raise their spirits. The little girl tried to be
brave, but when it was all over she was glad to hurry out before the
crowd got started and to hasten away home. Once there and her tears
flowed freely; she hid her face in her mother's dress, and sobbed as if
her heart would break.

"Don't cry, Baby! don't cry, Lammie, dis ain't da las' time da wah goin'
to be a drill. Bud'll have a chance anotha time and den he'll show 'em
somethin'; bless you, I spec' he'll be a captain." But this consolation
of philosophy was nothing to "little sister." It was so terrible to her,
this failure of Bud's. She couldn't blame him, she couldn't blame anyone
else, and she had not yet learned to lay all such unfathomed
catastrophes at the door of fate. What to her was the thought of another
day; what did it matter to her whether he was a captain or a private?
She didn't even know the meaning of the words, but "little sister," from
the time she knew Bud was a private, thought that was much better than
being a captain or any other of those things with a long name, so that
settled it.

Her mother finally set about getting the supper, while "little sister"
drooped disconsolately in her own little splint-bottomed chair. She sat
there weeping silently until she heard the sound of Bud's step, then
sprang up and ran away to hide. She didn't dare to face him with tears
in her eyes. Bud came in without a word and sat down in the dark front
room.

"Dat you, Bud?" asked his mother.

"Yassum."

"Bettah come now, supper's puty 'nigh ready."

"I don't want no supper."

"You bettah come on, Bud, I reckon you's mighty tired."

He did not reply, but just then a pair of thin arms were put around his
neck and a soft cheek was placed close to his own.

"Come on, Buddie," whispered "little sister," "Mammy an' me know you
didn't mean to do it, an' we don't keer."

Bud threw his arms around his little sister and held her tightly.

"It's only you an' ma I care about," he said, "though I am sorry I
spoiled the company's drill; they say "B" would have won anyway on
account of our bad firing, but I did want you and ma to be proud."

"We is proud," she whispered, "we's mos' prouder dan if you'd won," and
pretty soon she led him by the hand to supper.

Hannah did all she could to cheer the boy and to encourage him to hope
for next year, but he had little to say in reply, and went to bed early.