spite of the
underground muttering.

Saturday afternoon was the time for training. The Never-Give-Ups met at
the old red store kept by Daddy Wiggins, and paraded down the village
street, and across the bridge, as far sometimes as the Dug Way, a
beautiful spot three or four miles from home. They were a goodly sight
to see,--the bright, healthy boys, straight as the "Quaker guns" they
carried, and marching off with a firm and manly tread.

Mothers take a secret pride in their sons, and many loving eyes watched
this procession out of town; but the procession didn't know it, for the
mothers were very much afraid of flattering the boys. I think myself it
would have done the little soldiers no harm to be praised once in a
while. Indeed, I wish they might have heard the ladies of the village
talking about them, as they met to drink tea at Mrs. Parlin's. She never
went out herself, but often invited company to what they called little
"tea-junketings."

"Well," said Mrs. Potter, the doctor's wife, "isn't it enough to do your
eyes good to see such a noble set of boys?"

"Yes, it is," said Mrs. Griggs; "and I am not afraid for our country, if
they grow up as good men as they now bid fair to be."

Mrs. Chase could not respond to this, for her boy Fred was a great
trial; his father indulged him too much, and she had had strong fears
that he might take to bad habits. But he was as handsome as any of the
boys, and she spoke up quickly:--

"Yes, Mrs. Potter; as you say, they _are_ a noble-looking set of boys;
and don't they march well?"

"They waste a great deal of time; but then they might be doing worse,
and I like to see boys enjoy themselves," said Mrs. Lyman, the greatest
worker in town.

Her twins, George and Silas, ought to have heard that, for they thought
their mother did not care to see them do anything but delve.

"Ah, bless their little hearts, we are all as proud of them as we can
be," said ruddy, fleshy Mrs. Parlin, brushing back her purple
cap-strings as she poured the tea. "My Willy, now, is the very apple of
my eye, and the little rogue knows it too."

Yes, Willy did know it, for his mother was not afraid to tell him so.
The other boys had love doled out to them like wedding cake, as if it
were too rich and precious for common use; but Mrs. Parlin's love was
free and plenteous, and Willy lived on it like daily bread.

Kissing and petting were sure to spoil boys, so Elder Lovejoy's wife
thought; and she lo