d but three. Past them still
on post evenings walked Adam, head in air, hands clasped behind his
back. There was Edward Green, round, fat, who puffed and panted; there
was Newton Towne, who walked, in spite of palsy, as though he had won
the battle of Gettysburg; there was, last of all, Henry Foust, who at
seventy-five was hale and strong. Usually a tall son walked beside him,
or a grandchild clung to his hand. He was almost never alone; it was
as though every one who knew him tried to have as much as possible of
his company. Past him with a grave nod walked Adam. Adam was two years
older than Henry; it required more and more stretching of arms behind
his back to keep his shoulders straight.

In April Newton Towne was taken ill and died. Edward Green was
terrified, though he considered himself, in spite of his shortness
of breath, a strong man.

"Don't let anything happen to you, Henry," he would say. "Don't let
anything get you, Henry. I can't march alone."

"I'll be there," Henry would reassure him. Only one look at Henry, and
the most alarmed would have been comforted.

"It would kill me to march alone," said Edward Green.

As if Fosterville realized that it could not continue long to show
its devotion to its veterans, it made this year special preparations
for Memorial Day. The Fosterville Band practiced elaborate music, the
children were drilled in marching. The children were to precede the
veterans to the cemetery and were to scatter flowers over the graves.
Houses were gayly decorated, flags and banners floated in the pleasant
spring breeze. Early in the morning carriages and wagons began to bring
in the country folk.

Adam Foust realized as well as Fosterville that the parades of veterans
were drawing to their close.

"This may be the last time I can show my principles," said he, with grim
setting of his lips. "I will put on my gray coat early in the morning."

Though the two veterans were to march to the cemetery, carriages were
provided to bring them home. Fosterville meant to be as careful as
possible of its treasures.

"I don't need any carriage to ride in, like Ed Green," said Adam
proudly. "I could march out and back. Perhaps Ed Green will have to ride
out as well as back."

But Edward Green neither rode nor walked. The day turned suddenly warm,
the heat and excitement accelerated his already rapid breathing, and the
doctor forbade his setting foot to the ground.

"But I will!" cried Edward,