ith stout straps. The thrifty Deacon insisted on taking home
some of Si's and Shorty's clothes to be mended. The boys protested.

"We don't mend clothes in the army, Pap," said Si. "They ain't wuth it.
We just wear 'em out throw 'em away, and draw new ones."

The Deacon held out that his mother and sisters{43} would take great
pleasure in working on such things, from the feeling that they were
helping the war along. Finally the matter was compromised by putting
in some socks to be darned and shirts to be mended. Then the bullets,
canister, round-shot, fragments of shell, etc., were filled in.

"I declare," said the Deacon dubiously, as he hefted the carpetsack.
"It's goin' to be a job to lug that thing back home. Better hire a
mule-team. But I'll try it. Mebbe it'll help work some o' the stupidity
out o' Abraham Lincoln."

The whole of Co. Q and most of the regiment had grown very fond of the
Deacon, and when it was noised around that he was going, they crowded
in to say good-by, and give him letters and money to take home. The
remaining space in the carpetsack and all that in the Deacon's many
pockets were filled with these.

The next morning the company turned out to a man and escorted him to
the train, with Si and his father marching arm-in-arm at the head, the
company fifers playing,

"Ain't I glad to get out of the Wilderness,
Way down in Tennessee,"

and Abraham Lincoln, laden with the striped carpetsack, the smashed
musket and other relics, bringing up the rear, under the supervision of
Shorty. Tears stood in the old man's eyes as he stood on the platform
of the car, and grasped Si's and Shorty's hands in adieu. His brief
farewell was characteristic of the strong, self-contained Western{44}
man:

"Good-by, boys. God bless you. Take care of yourselves. Be good boys.
Come home safe after the war."

[Illustration: KLEGG STARTS HOME. 45]

The boys stood and watched the train with sorrowful eyes until it had
passed out of sight in the woods beyond Overall's Creek, and then turned
to go to their camp with a great load of homesickness weighing down
their hearts.

"Just think of it; he's going straight back to God's country," said
someone near.

A sympathetic sigh went up from all.

"Shet up," said Shorty savagely. "I don't want to hear a word o' that
kind. He pulled his hat down over his eyes, rammed his hands deep in his
pockets, and strode off, trying to whistle

"When this cruel war