om
her devotional reading. "Father wants that I should tell you
something. You mustn't feel bad about it. It's that we may soon go out
West. Your Uncle Ezra is doing well in Minnesota. Aunt Elvira says so
in her letter that came to-day."

"It's this way, children," said Mr. Wallbridge, ready to explain, now
that the subject was opened. "Since ever your brother Jack went away
South, the store expenses have been too heavy. It's near five years
now he's been gone. There's a sheaf of notes coming due the third of
next month; twice they've been renewed, and the Philadelphia men say
they'll close me up this time sure. If I had eight hundred
dollars--but it's no use talking; we'll just have to let them take
what we've got. Times have been bad right along around here, anyhow,
with new competition, and so many farmers gone to the war, and more
gone West. If Jack had stopped to home--but I've had to pay two
clerks to do his work, and then they don't take any interest in the
business. Mind, I'm not blaming Jack, poor fellow,--he'd a right to go
where he'd get more'n his keep, and be able to lay up something for
himself,--but what's become of him, God knows; and such a smart, good
boy as he was! He'd got fond of New Orleans,--I guess some nice girl
there, maybe, was the reason; and there he'd stay after the war began,
and now it's two years and more since we've heard from him. Dead,
maybe, or maybe they'd put him in jail, for he said he'd never join
the Confederates, nor fight against them either--he felt that
way--North and South was all the same to him. And so he's gone; and I
don't see my way now at all. Ma, if it wasn't for my lame leg, I'd
take the bounty. It'd be _something_ for you and the children after
the store's gone."

"Sho, pa! don't talk that way! You're too down-hearted. It'll all come
right, with the Lord's help," said Harry's mother. How clearly he, in
the damp cold tent, could see her kind looks as she pushed up her
spectacles and beamed on her husband; how distinctly, in the still dim
dawn, he heard her soothing tones!

It was that evening's talk which had sent Harry, so young, to the
front. Three village boys, little older than he, had already contrived
to enlist. Every time he saw the Flag drooping, he thought shame of
himself to be absent from the ranks of its upholders; and now, just as
he was believing himself big and old enough to serve, he conceived
that duty to his parents distinctly enjoined him to g