ield. Perhaps it was a weakness on the part of the soldier boy,
but we are compelled to record the fact that he had faithfully conned his
speech for that interesting occasion. He had supposed every thing she
would say, and carefully prepared a suitable reply to each remark, adorned
with all the graces of rhetoric within his reach.

With the furlough in his pocket, Tom obtained his order for
transportation, and with a light heart, full of pleasant anticipations,
started for home. As he was still dressed in the faded and shattered
uniform of a non-commissioned officer, he did not attract any particular
notice on the way. He was enabled to pass through Baltimore, Philadelphia,
and New York, without being bored by a public reception, which some less
deserving heroes have not been permitted to escape. But the people did not
understand that Tom had a second lieutenant's commission in his pocket,
and he was too modest to proclaim the fact, which may be the reason why he
was suffered to pass through these great emporiums of trade without an
escort, or other demonstration of respect and admiration.

Tom's heart jumped with strange emotions when he arrived at Boston,
perhaps because he was within a few miles of home; possibly because he was
in the city that contained Lilian Ashford, for boys will be silly in spite
of all the exertions of parents, guardians, and teachers, to make them
sober and sensible. Such absurdities as "the air she breathes," and other
rhapsodies of that sort, may have flitted through his mind; but we are
positive that Tom did not give voice to any such nonsense, for every body
in the city was a total stranger to him, so far as he knew. Besides, Tom
had no notion of appearing before the original of the photograph in the
rusty uniform he wore; and as he had to wait an hour for the Pinchbrook
train, he hastened to a tailor's to order a suit of clothes which would be
appropriate to his new dignity.

He ordered them, was duly measured and had given the tailor his promise to
call for the garments at the expiration of five days, when the man of
shears disturbed the serene current of his meditations by suggesting that
the lieutenant should pay one half of the price of the suit in advance.

"It is a custom we adopt in all our dealings with strangers," politely
added the tailor.

"But I don't propose to take the uniform away until it is paid for," said
Tom, blushing with mortification; for it so happened that he ha