point
the rifle at his foot--but that, perhaps, would be a needless sacrifice.

He had thought it carefully out, and had been actually on the point of
deciding when the old physician appeared. Then Doctor Purdy, reading in
his eyes the very image of despair, left good suggestions as the best
medicine he then knew to bolster him up. The consequence was that Jeb,
instead of resorting to wounds, settled on a better plan: he would
become more ill, grow worse and worse, so that by Tuesday the doctor
might carry a certificate to the registration place exempting him from
service. He brightened wonderfully after this; he really became a
hopeful looking invalid for one who intended to flirt shamelessly with
death. He almost laughed. His appetite returned, and it was a hard knock
for him to take to his bed instead of sitting down at the sumptuous
feast which he knew Miss Sallie and Miss Veemie had provided. But bed it
must be, and no dinner.

News of his illness had got abroad somewhat, and during the afternoon
the Colonel and Mr. Strong called. When Miss Veemie, out of breath, came
up to tell him this he expressed a feeble wish to see them, arranging
himself deeper in the pillows and trying to remain calm.

"Well, sir," said the Colonel jovially, "this is no place for a soldier!
The time will come, doubtless, when we'll be dropping by to see you
tucked in white sheets, but then you'll have a leg off, or half your
head! You'll be a battle-scarred veteran, then!"

The light was not strong enough for any of them to have seen the effect
of this encouraging speech, but Jeb acquiesced feebly, adding a weak
desire that the prophecy might come true. This sentiment, just at this
time, did not escape the Colonel, who looked for the merest instant
startled--then put an unworthy thought aside as the invalid concluded:

"I'm awfully sorry I won't be out Tuesday to register."

"Don't let that worry you, my boy," Mr. Strong leaned gently over and
spoke to him. "The War Department has provided for those who happen to
be ill, so you won't miss it; we promise to see to that, eh, Roger?"

"He's in my district," the generous Colonel answered, "so I'll come by
here first thing Tuesday morning and fill out his card. Why, it'll be a
pleasure, Jeb!"

Where was the good fairy, the kind Fate, now that had stood between him
and this war horror! He felt limp and willing to lie still awhile; but
as soon as the guests had left he sprang up and feveri