a boy with a face like that for a good deal!'

'Why not?' asked Mrs. Graham.

'Because it's the ruination of them. I shall never forget a pretty boy we
had once; he was called the "cherub," and had been a chorister--sang
divinely. He was only four years in the regiment, and his case was
brought to me before he was discharged. He came to us an angel, and
departed a finished young blackguard. He drank, stole, and lied to any
extent, and was as well versed in vicious sins as any old toper in the
regiment. When I see a fresh drummer brought in, I wonder how long he
will keep his innocence, and sometimes wish his friends could see the
life he is subjected to. I give them a month generally, and then away
flies their bloom and all their home training.'

'But, Major Tracy, you are giving us a shocking idea of the morals in the
Service,' said one lady.

He shrugged his shoulders. 'I grant you, on the whole, they are better
than they were, but the Service is no place for highly strung boys like
this one. The rougher, harder natures get on best. When they get older,
and have sense and strength enough to stick to their principles, then let
them enlist.'

'But I have always heard,' said Mrs. Graham, 'that the drummer boys are
well looked after now. They have a room to themselves, and the chaplains
have classes for them.'

'That may be. I would only ask you to watch a boy, as I have, from the
start, and see what kind of a man he grows into after having spent most
of his early youth in the Service. There are exceptions, I know, but
precious few, as far as my experience goes.'

Teddy did not understand this conversation, but he gathered from the
major's tone that he did not approve of him.

'Do you think I'm too small to be a soldier?' he asked.

The major laughed. 'Don't bother your head about your size,' he said;
'you'll grow, and there's plenty of time before you.'

'I don't want to be a drummer,' said Teddy earnestly; 'I'd rather wait
and be a proper soldier--a soldier that fights.'

'A capital decision--stick to it, little chap, and you have my hearty
approval.'

'You have your father's blood in your veins,' said the colonel, laughing;
'meanwhile, I suppose you try your hand on the village boys, to content
your fighting propensities.'

'No,' said Teddy, a grave look coming into his sunny blue eyes. 'I don't
fight with anybody but Ipse now; he keeps me always busy.'

'Who is Ipse?' asked Mrs. Graham.

'He's my ow