going to serve my country."
"Well, well," said Mr. Winch, "I shall let you do as you please. But
reflect; you enlist with my consent now, and you must dismiss all hope of
getting off next time you are sick of your bargain."
"O, I shan't be sick of it again," said John, as full of ambition as he
had lately been of discontent and disloyalty.
In the mean time Frank made the most of his father's visit. He showed him
his new tent, his knapsack and accoutrements, and his handsome drum. He
introduced him to the old drummer, and to Atwater, and to Captain Edney.
The latter invited them both into his tent, and was so kind to them that
Frank almost shed tears of gratitude, to think that his father could go
home and tell what a favorite he was with his captain. Then, when
dinner-time came, Frank drew a ration for his father, in order that he
might know just what sort of fare the soldiers had, and how they ate it.
And so the day passed. And Frank accompanied his father to the cars, and
saw him off, sending a thousand good wishes home, and promising that he
would certainly get a furlough the coming week, and visit them.
VI.
BREAKING CAMP.
Frank was disappointed in not being able to keep that promise. An order
came for the regiment to be ready to march in two days; in the mean time
no furloughs could be granted.
"I am sorry for you, Frank," said Captain Edney; "and I would make an
exception in your case, if possible."
"No, I don't ask that, sir," said Frank, stoutly. "I did want to see my
folks again, but----" He turned away his face.
"Well," said the captain, "I think it can be arranged so that you shall
see them again, if only for a short time. You can warn them in season of
our breaking camp, and they will meet you as we pass through Boston."
This was some consolation; although it was hard for Frank to give up the
long-anticipated pleasure of visiting his family, and the satisfaction of
relating his experience of a soldier's life to his sisters and mates. He
had thought a good deal, with innocent vanity, of the wonder and
admiration he would excite, in his uniform, fresh from camp, and bound
for the battlefields of his country; but he had thought a great deal more
of the happiness of breathing again the atmosphere of love and sympathy
which we find nowhere but at home.
The excitement which filled the camp helped him forget his
disappointmen
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