am I going to do, if you all go off and leave me?" added Mrs.
Somers, trying hard to keep down a tear which was struggling for birth in
her fountain of sorrows.

"I don't think you will want for anything, mother. I'm sure I wouldn't
leave you, if I thought you would. I don't get but two dollars and a half
a week in the store, and I shall have eleven dollars a month in the army,
and it won't cost me any thing for board or clothes. I will send every
dollar I get home to you."

"You are a good boy, Thomas," replied Mrs. Somers, unable any longer to
restrain the tear.

"I know you and John both will do every thing you can for me. If your
father was only at home, I should feel different about it."

"He would believe in my fighting for my country, if he were here."

"I know he would," said Mrs. Somers, as she took the pen which Thomas
handed her, and seated herself at the table. "If you are determined to go,
I suppose you will go, whether I am willing or not."

"No, mother, I will not," added Thomas, decidedly. "I shouldn't have
signed the muster roll if you hadn't said you were willing. And if you say
now that you won't consent, I will take my name off the paper."

"But you want to go--don't you?"

"I do; there's no mistake about that: but I won't go if you are not
willing."

Mrs. Somers wrote her name upon the paper. It was a slow and difficult
operation to her, and during the time she was thus occupied, the rest of
the family watched her in silent anxiety. Perhaps, if she had not
committed herself on the eventful night when she fully believed that
Thomas had run away and joined the army, she might have offered more and
stronger objections than she now urged. But there was a vein of patriotism
in her nature, which she had inherited from her father, who had fought at
Bunker Hill, Brandywine, and Germantown, and which had been exemplified in
the life of her brother; and this, more than any other consideration,
induced her to sign the paper.

Thousands of loving and devoted mothers have given their sons to their
country in the same holy enthusiasm that inspired her. She was not a
solitary instance of this noble sacrifice, and if both her sons had been
men, instead of boys, she would not have interposed a single objection to
their departure upon a mission so glorious as that to which Thomas had now
devoted himself.

"There's my name, Thomas," said his mother, as she took off her
spectacles. "I've done it, and you h