"My ship!" cried Frank, joyfully, already guessing what treasure was now
to be his.

"Your sword, then, if you like that name better. For what his sword is to
a hero, what his ship is to a true sailor, what a wife is to a true
husband,--such, my young friend, to a genuine drummer is his drum."

So saying, the veteran threw aside the covering, and presented to his
pupil the long-coveted prize. The boy's eyes shone with pleasure, and (as
he wrote that evening to his parents) he was so happy he could have
hugged both the old drummer and the new drum.

"I selected it for you, and you may be sure it is a good one. It won't be
any handsomer, but, if you use it well, it won't be really much the
worse, for going through a campaign or two with you. For it is with drums
as it is with the drummers; they grow old, and get some honorable
scratches, and some unlucky bruises, and now and then a broken head; but,
God prospering them, they come out, at last, ugly to look at, perhaps"
(the veteran stroked his mustache), "but well-seasoned, and sound, and
very truly at your service."

Frank thought be saw a tear in his twinkling gray eye, and he was so much
affected by it, that he caught his hand in both of his, exclaiming,
"Bless you, dear sir! Dear, good sir, God bless you!"

The old man winked away the moisture from his eye, smiling still, but
with a quivering lip, and patted him gently on the shoulder, without
saying a word.

Frank had the sense to perceive that the interview was now over; the
veteran wished to be left alone; and, with the new drum at his side, he
left the tent, proud and happy, and wishing in his heart that he could do
something for that singular, kind old man.

As Frank was hastening to his tent, he was met by one of the captains in
his regiment, who, seeing the bright beaming face and new drum, accosted
him.

"So, you are a drummer boy--are you?"

"Yes, sir, I am learning to be one," said Frank, modestly.

Now, these two had seen each other often in camp and the captain had
always regarded Frank with a smile of interest and kindness, and Frank
(as he wrote home) had "always liked the looks of the captain
first-rate."

"I saw you, I think, the day you came here," said the captain. "You had
some curls then. What has become of them?"

Frank's lip twitched, and he cast down his eyes, ashamed to betray any
lingering feeling on that subject.

"The boys cut them off in my sleep, sir."

"The rogues!" excl