erted, I hope. We have yarns by the hour
together, but if he's billeted in the Hare and Hounds, or any other
public-house, for that matter, I don't know what he'll do. There's
nothing for them when they come in tired but to sit in the bar or
tap-room and drink. They can't get away from it.' Teddy's brow was
knitted with deep thought.

'I didn't know soldiers drank too much,' he said. 'I thought they never
did anything wrong.'

The corporal smiled. 'It isn't many that is of your opinion,' he said.
'Most folks put us down as a bad lot.'

That evening remained in his memory for long after: the sweet-scented
garden, and the long low kitchen, with the happy family party gathered
round the table; the clumsy efforts of the reticent farmer to make his
guest feel at home; the short, pithy remarks made by Mrs. Platt, and the
gentle, soft-voiced young mother, with the golden-haired boy, continually
asking quaint questions about a soldier's life--all this came back to him
with a keen sense of pleasure in after years. He was only a young fellow
after all, and was touched and gratified by the kindness shown to him,
for it made him think of his own mother in her village home; and when he
took his leave he could hardly express his thanks.

Teddy had been allowed to sit up beyond his usual bedtime, and as he put
his little hand into the big brown one of the young soldier he said, 'Do
you mind telling me your name, corporal?'

'Walter Saxby,' was the ready response.

'And what's the name of the poor old soldier who signed the pledge on New
Year's Day?'

'Tim Stokes; he's called Bouncer by most of us.'

'I shall remember,' said Teddy; then turning to his mother and
grandmother after Corporal Saxby had disappeared, he said solemnly, 'I
may bring Bouncer to tea, mayn't I, if I find him? Corporal told me he
hadn't properly enlisted as Jesus' soldier, but he wants to. Do you think
Mr. Upton could get him to enlist while he's here? Or could you, granny?
P'raps he'd do it for you.'

'I don't know what that boy will come to,' said Mrs. Platt later on, when
Teddy was safe in bed; 'seems to me he has more the making of a minister
in him than a soldier. I don't hold with children being too religious;
it's forced and unnatural.'

'He ain't too good to live,' put in Jake slowly; 'no youngster can beat
him in play.'

'I often wonder,' Mrs. John said thoughtfully, 'whether he will be a
soldier after all; he is almost too sensitive to lead