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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Winning His Way, by Charles Carleton Coffin
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Winning His Way
+
+
+Author: Charles Carleton Coffin
+
+
+
+Release Date: October 7, 2007  [eBook #22913]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINNING HIS WAY***
+
+
+E-text prepared by D. Alexander, Janet Blenkinship, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from
+digital material generously made available by Internet Archive/American
+Libraries (http://www.archive.org/details/americana)
+
+
+
+Note: Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/winninghisway00coffrich
+
+
+
+
+
+WINNING HIS WAY.
+
+by
+
+CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN,
+
+Author "Story of Liberty," "Boys of '76,"
+"My Days and Nights on the Battlefield,"
+"Our New Way Round the World," "Following the Flag," Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Boston, Mass.:
+Perry Mason & Co.
+1888.
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
+Charles Carleton Coffin,
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
+Massachusetts
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+CHAPTER                                             PAGE
+
+    I. FIRST YEARS                                    1
+
+   II. HARD TIMES                                    27
+
+  III. MERRY TIMES                                   42
+
+   IV. MUSIC AND PAINTING                            63
+
+    V. THE NIGHT-HAWKS                               82
+
+   VI. PAUL'S FRIENDS                                91
+
+  VII. IN A TRAP                                    103
+
+ VIII. KEEPING SCHOOL                               116
+
+   IX. RALLYING ROUND THE FLAG                      126
+
+    X. A SOLDIER                                    144
+
+   XI. SCOUTING                                     156
+
+  XII. MISSED FROM HOME                             170
+
+ XIII. THE MARCH                                    175
+
+  XIV. THE BATTLE                                   180
+
+   XV. SHOWING WHAT HE WAS MADE OF                  190
+
+  XVI. HONOR TO THE BRAVE                           200
+
+ XVII. CHICKAMAUGA                                  207
+
+XVIII. HOW HE LIVED IN THE MEMORY OF HIS FRIENDS    211
+
+  XIX. WHAT BECAME OF A TRAITOR                     217
+
+   XX. DARK DAYS                                    224
+
+  XXI. CONSECRATION                                 233
+
+ XXII. UNDER THE OLD FLAG                           241
+
+XXIII. THE JAWS OF DEATH                            248
+
+ XXIV. HOME                                         253
+
+
+
+
+WINNING HIS WAY.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+FIRST YEARS.
+
+
+Many years ago, before railroads were thought of, a company of
+Connecticut farmers, who had heard marvellous stories of the richness of
+the land in the West, sold their farms, packed up their goods, bade
+adieu to their friends, and with their families started for Ohio.
+
+After weeks of travel over dusty roads, they came to a beautiful valley,
+watered by a winding river. The hills around were fair and sunny. There
+were groves of oaks, and maples, and lindens. The air was fragrant with
+honeysuckle and jasmine. There was plenty of game. The swift-footed deer
+browsed the tender grass upon the hills. Squirrels chattered in the
+trees and the ringdoves cooed in the depths of the forest. The place was
+so fertile and fair, so pleasant and peaceful, that the emigrants made
+it their home, and called it New Hope.
+
+They built a mill upon the river. They laid out a wide, level street,
+and a public square, erected a school-house, and then a church. One of
+their number opened a store. Other settlers came, and, as the years
+passed by, the village rang with the shouts of children pouring from the
+school-house for a frolic upon the square. Glorious times they had
+beneath the oaks and maples.
+
+One of the jolliest of the boys was Paul Parker, only son of Widow
+Parker, who lived in a little old house, shaded by a great maple, on the
+outskirts of the village. Her husband died when Paul was in his cradle.
+Paul's grandfather was still living. The people called him "Old
+Pensioner Parker," for he fought at Bunker Hill, and received a pension
+from government. He was hale and hearty, though more than eighty years
+of age.
+
+The pension was the main support of the family. They kept a cow, a pig,
+turkeys, and chickens, and, by selling milk and eggs, which Paul carried
+to their customers, they brought the years round without running in
+debt. Paul's pantaloons had a patch on each knee, but he laughed just
+as loud and whistled just as cheerily for all that.
+
+In summer he went barefoot. He did not have to turn out at every
+mud-puddle, and he could plash into the mill-pond and give the frogs a
+crack over the head without stopping to take off stockings and shoes.
+Paul did not often have a dinner of roast beef, but he had an abundance
+of bean porridge, brown bread, and milk.
+
+"Bean porridge is wholesome food, Paul," said his grandfather. "When I
+was a boy we used to say,--
+
+
+                'Bean porridge hot,
+                 Bean porridge cold,--
+                 Bean porridge best
+                 Nine days old.'
+
+The wood-choppers in winter used to freeze it into cakes and carry it
+into the woods. Many a time I have made a good dinner on a chunk of
+frozen porridge."
+
+The Pensioner remembered what took place in his early years, but he lost
+his reckoning many times a day upon what was going on in the town. He
+loved to tell stories, and Paul was a willing listener. Pleasant
+winter-evenings they had in the old kitchen, the hickory logs blazing
+on the hearth, the tea-kettle singing through its nose, the clock
+ticking soberly, the old Pensioner smoking his pipe in the arm-chair,
+Paul's mother knitting,--Bruno by Paul's side, wagging his tail and
+watching Muff in the opposite corner rolling her great round yellow
+eyes. Bruno was always ready to give Muff battle whenever Paul tipped
+him the wink to pitch in.
+
+The Pensioner's stories were of his boyhood,--how he joined the army,
+and fought the battles of the Revolution. Thus his story ran.
+
+"I was only a little bigger than you are, Paul," he said, "when the
+red-coats began the war at Lexington. I lived in old Connecticut then;
+that was a long time before we came out here. The meeting-house bell
+rung, and the people blew their dinner-horns, till the whole town was
+alarmed. I ran up to the meeting-house and found the militia forming.
+The men had their guns and powder-horns. The women were at work melting
+their pewter porringers into bullets. I wasn't o'd enough to train, but
+I could fire a gun and bring down a squirrel from the top of a tree. I
+wanted to go and help drive the red-coats into the ocean. I asked
+mother if I might. I was afraid that she didn't want me to go. 'Why,
+Paul,' says she, 'you haven't any clothes.' 'Mother,' says I, 'I can
+shoot a red-coat just as well as any of the men can.' Says she, 'Do you
+want to go, Paul?' 'Yes, mother.' 'Then you shall go; I'll fix you out,'
+she said. As I hadn't any coat she took a meal-bag, cut a hole for my
+head in the bottom, and made holes for my arms in the sides, cut off a
+pair of her own stocking-legs, and sewed them on for sleeves, and I was
+rigged. I took the old gun which father carried at Ticonderoga, and the
+powder-horn, and started. There is the gun and the horn, Paul, hanging
+up over the fireplace.
+
+"The red-coats had got back to Boston, but we cooped them up. Our
+company was in Colonel Knowlton's regiment. I carried the flag, which
+said, _Qui transtulit sustinet_. I don't know anything about Latin, but
+those who do say it means that God who hath transported us hither will
+sustain us; and that is true, Paul. He sustained us at Bunker Hill, and
+we should have held it if our powder had not given out. Our regiment was
+by a rail-fence on the northeast side of the hill. Stark, with his New
+Hampshire boys, was by the river. Prescott was in the redoubt on the top
+of the hill. Old Put kept walking up and down the lines. This is the way
+it was, Paul."
+
+The Pensioner laid aside his pipe, bent forward, and traced upon the
+hearth the positions of the troops.
+
+"There is the redoubt; here is the rail-fence; there is where the
+red-coats formed their lines. They came up in front of us here. We
+didn't fire a gun till they got close to us. I'll show you how the fire
+ran down the line."
+
+He took down the horn, pulled out the stopper, held his finger over the
+tip, and made a trail of powder.
+
+"There, Paul, that is by the fence. As the red-coats came up, some of us
+began to be uneasy and wanted to fire; but Old Put kept saying, 'Don't
+fire yet! Wait till you can see the white of their eyes! Aim at their
+belts!'"
+
+While the Pensioner was saying this, he took the tongs and picked a live
+coal from the fire.
+
+"They came up beautifully, Paul,--the tall grenadiers and light-infantry
+in their scarlet coats, and the sun shining on their gun-barrels and
+bayonets. They wer'n't more than ten rods off when a soldier on top of
+the hill couldn't stand it any longer. Pop! went his gun, and the fire
+ran down the hill quicker than scat! just like this!"
+
+He touched the coal to the powder. There was a flash, a puff of smoke
+rising to the ceiling, and filling the room.
+
+"Hooray!" shouted Paul, springing to his feet. Muff went with a jump
+upon the bureau in the corner of the room, her tail as big as Paul's
+arm, and her back up. Bruno was after her in a twinkling, bouncing
+about, barking, and looking round to Paul to see if it was all right.
+
+"There, grandpa, you have made a great smut on the hearth," said Mrs.
+Parker, who kept her house neat and tidy, though it was a crazy old
+affair.
+
+"Well, mother, I thought it would please Paul."
+
+"S-s-s-s-si'c!" Paul made a hiss which Bruno understood, for he went at
+Muff more fiercely. It was glorious to see Muff spit fire, and hear her
+growl low and deep like distant thunder. Paul would not have Muff hurt
+for anything, but he loved to see Bruno show his teeth at her, for she
+was gritty when waked up.
+
+"Be still, Paul, and let Muff alone," said Paul's mother.
+
+"Come, Bruno, she ain't worth minding," said Paul.
+
+"They have got good courage, both of 'em," said the Pensioner; "and
+courage is one half of the battle, and truth and honor is the other
+half. Paul, I want you to remember that. It will be worth more than a
+fortune to you. I don't mean that cats and dogs know much about truth
+and honor, and I have seen some men who didn't know much more about
+those qualities of character than Muff and Bruno; but what I have said,
+Paul, is true for all that. They who win success in life are those who
+love truth, and who follow what is noble and good. No matter how brave a
+man may be, if he hasn't these qualities he won't succeed. He may get
+rich, but that won't amount to much. Success, Paul, is to have an
+unblemished character,--to be true to ourselves, to our country, and to
+God."
+
+He went on with his story, telling how the British troops ran before the
+fire of the Yankees,--how they re-formed and came on a second time, and
+were repulsed again,--how General Clinton went over from Boston with
+reinforcements,--how Charlestown was set on fire,--how the flames leaped
+from house to house, and curled round the spire of the church,--how the
+red-coats advanced a third time beneath the great black clouds of
+smoke,--how the ammunition of the Yankees gave out, and they were
+obliged to retreat,--how General Putnam tried to rally them,--how they
+escaped across Charlestown Neck, where the cannon-balls from the British
+floating batteries raked the ranks! He made it all so plain, that Paul
+wished he had been there.
+
+The story completed, Paul climbed the creaking stairway to his narrow
+chamber, repeated his evening prayer, and scrambled into bed.
+
+"He is a jolly boy," said the Pensioner to Paul's mother, as Paul left
+the room.
+
+"I don't know what will become of him," she replied, "he is so wild and
+thoughtless. He leaves the door open, throws his cap into the corner,
+sets Bruno and Muff to growling, stops to play on his way home from
+school, sings, whistles, shouts, hurrahs, and tears round like all
+possessed."
+
+If she could have looked into Paul's desk at school, she would have
+found whirligigs, tops, pin-boxes, nails, and no end of strings and
+dancing dandy-jims.
+
+"Paul is a rogue," said the Pensioner. "You remember how he got on top
+of the house awhile ago and frightened us out of our wits by shouting
+'Fire! fire!' down the chimney; how we ran out to see about it; how I
+asked him 'Where?' and says he, 'Down there in the fireplace, grandpa.'
+He is a chip of the old block. I used to do just so. But there is one
+good thing about him, he don't do mean tricks. He don't bend up pins and
+put them in the boys' seats, or tuck chestnut-burs into the girls'
+hoods. I never knew him to tell a lie. He will come out all right."
+
+"I hope so," said Mrs. Parker.
+
+Paul could look through the crevices between the shingles, and the
+cracks in the walls, and behold the stars gleaming from the unfathomable
+spaces. He wondered how far they were away. He listened to the wind
+chanting a solemn dirge, filling his soul with longings for he knew not
+what. He thought over his grandfather's stories, and the words he had
+spoken about courage, truth, and honor, till a shingle clattering in the
+wind took up the refrain, and seemed to say, Truth and honor,--truth
+and honor,--truth and honor,--so steadily and pleasantly, that while he
+listened the stars faded from his sight, and he sailed away into
+dream-land.
+
+Paul was twelve years old, stout, hearty, and healthy,--full of life,
+and brimming over with fun. Once he set the village in a roar. The
+people permitted their pigs to run at large. The great maple in front of
+the Pensioner's house was cool and shady,--a delightful place for the
+pigs through the hot summer days.
+
+Mr. Chrome, the carriage-painter, lived across the road. He painted a
+great many wagons for the farmers,--the wheels yellow, the bodies blue,
+green, or red, with scrolls and flowers on the sides. Paul watched him
+by the hour, and sometimes made up his mind to be a carriage-painter
+when he became a man.
+
+"Mr. Chrome," said Paul, "don't you think that those pigs would look
+better if they were painted?"
+
+"Perhaps so."
+
+"I should like to see how they would look painted as you paint your
+wagons."
+
+Mr. Chrome laughed at the ludicrous fancy. He loved fun, and was ready
+to help carry out the freak.
+
+"Well, just try your hand on improving nature," he said.
+
+Paul went to work. Knowing that pigs like to have their backs scratched,
+he had no difficulty in keeping them quiet. To one he gave green legs,
+blue ears, red rings round its eyes, and a red tail. Another had one red
+leg, one blue, one yellow, one green, with red and blue stripes and
+yellow stars on its body. "I will make him a star-spangled pig," Paul
+shouted to Mr. Chrome. Another had a green head, yellow ears, and a red
+body. Bruno watched the proceedings, wagging his tail, looking now at
+Paul and then at the pigs, ready to help on the fun.
+
+"Si'c!--si'c!--si'c!" said Paul. Bruno was upon them with a bound. Away
+they capered, with him at their heels. As soon as they came into the
+sunshine the spirits of turpentine in the paint was like fire to their
+flesh. Faster they ran up the street squealing, with Bruno barking
+behind. Mr. Chrome laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. All the
+dogs, great and small, joined Bruno in chase of the strange game. People
+came out from the stores, windows were thrown up, and all hands--men,
+women, and children--ran to see what was the matter, laughing and
+shouting, while the pigs and dogs ran round the square.
+
+"Paul Parker did that, I'll bet," said Mr. Leatherby, the shoemaker,
+peeping out from his shop. "It is just like him."
+
+An old white horse, belonging to Mr. Smith, also sought the shade of the
+maple before the Pensioner's house. Bruno barked at him by the hour, but
+the old horse would not move for anything short of a club or stone.
+
+"I'll see if I can't get rid of him," said Paul to himself.
+
+He went into the barn, found a piece of rope, tied up a little bundle of
+hay, got a stick five or six feet long, and some old harness-straps. In
+the evening, when it was so dark that people could not see what he was
+up to, he caught the old horse, laid the stick between his ears and
+strapped it to his neck, and tied the hay to the end of the stick, in
+such a way that it hung a few inches beyond old Whitey's nose. The old
+horse took a step ahead to nibble the hay,--another,--another,--another!
+"Don't you wish you may get it?" said Paul. Tramp,--tramp,--tramp. Old
+Whitey went down the road. Paul heard him go across the bridge by the
+mill, and up the hill the other side of the brook.
+
+"Go it, old fellow!" he shouted, then listened again. It was a calm
+night, and he could just hear old Whitey's feet,--tramp,--tramp,--tramp.
+
+The next morning the good people of Fairview, ten miles from New Hope,
+laughed to see an old white horse, with a bundle of hay a few inches
+beyond his nose, passing through the place.
+
+Mr. Smith, after breakfast, started out to hunt up old Whitey. He often
+found him under the maple in front of the Pensioner's house. Paul was
+swinging on the gate. "Have you seen my horse?" Mr. Smith asked.
+
+"Yes, sir, I saw him going down towards the bridge last evening," Paul
+replied, chuckling to himself.
+
+Mr. Smith went down to the mill and inquired. The miller heard a horse
+go over the bridge. The farmer on the other side heard a horse go up the
+hill. Mr. Smith looked at the tracks. They were old Whitey's, who had a
+broken shoe on his left hind foot. He followed on. "I never knew him to
+go away before," he said to himself, as he walked hour after hour,
+seeing the tracks all the way to Fairview.
+
+"Have you seen a white horse about here?" he asked of one of the
+villagers.
+
+"Yes, sir; there was one here this morning trying to overtake a bundle
+of hay," the man replied, laughing. "There he is now!" he added.
+
+Mr. Smith looked up and saw old Whitey, who had turned about, and was
+reaching forward to get a nibble of the hay. Mr. Smith felt like being
+angry, but the old horse was walking so soberly and earnestly that he
+couldn't help laughing.
+
+"That is some of Paul's doings, I know. I'll give him a blessing when I
+get back."
+
+It was noon before Mr. Smith reached New Hope. Paul and Bruno were
+sitting beneath the maple.
+
+"Where did you find old Whitey?" Paul asked.
+
+"You was the one who did it, you little rascal!"
+
+"Did what?"
+
+"You know what. You have made me walk clear to Fairview. I have a mind
+to horsewhip you."
+
+Paul laughed to think that the old horse had tramped so far, though he
+was sorry that Mr. Smith had been obliged to walk that distance.
+
+"I didn't mean any harm, Mr. Smith; but old Whitey has made our dooryard
+his stamping-place all summer, and I thought I would see if I could get
+rid of him."
+
+"Well, sir, if you do it again I'll trounce you!" said Mr. Smith as he
+rode away, his anger coming up.
+
+"Wouldn't it be better for you to put him in a pasture, Mr. Smith? Then
+he wouldn't trouble us," said Paul, who knew that Mr. Smith had no right
+to let old Whitey run at large. Paul was not easily frightened when he
+had right on his side. The people in the stores and at the tavern had a
+hearty laugh when they heard how old Whitey went to Fairview.
+
+Mr. Cipher taught the village school. He was tall, slim, thin-faced,
+with black eyes deeply set in his head, and a long, hooked nose like an
+eagle's bill. He wore a loose swallow-tailed coat with bright brass
+buttons, and pants which were several inches too short. The Committee
+employed him, not because he was a superior teacher, but they could get
+him for twelve dollars a month, while Mr. Rudiment, who had been through
+college, and who was known to be an excellent instructor, asked
+sixteen.
+
+There was a crowd of roistering boys and rosy-cheeked girls, who made
+the old school-house hum like a beehive. Very pleasant to the passers-by
+was the music of their voices. At recess and at noon they had leap-frog
+and tag. Paul was in a class with Philip Funk, Hans Middlekauf, and
+Michael Murphy. There were other boys and girls of all nationalities.
+Paul's ancestors were from Connecticut, while Philip's father was a
+Virginian. Hans was born in Germany, and Michael in Ireland. Philip's
+father kept a grocery, and sold sugar, molasses, tobacco, and whiskey.
+He was rich, and Philip wore good clothes and calf-skin boots. Paul
+could get his lessons very quick whenever he set about them in earnest,
+but he spent half his time in inventing fly-traps, making whirligigs, or
+drawing pictures on his slate. He had an accurate eye, and could draw
+admirably. Philip could get his lessons also if he chose to apply
+himself, but it was a great deal easier to have some one work out the
+problems in arithmetic than to do them himself.
+
+"Here, Paul, just help me; that is a good fellow," he said, coaxingly.
+
+It was at recess.
+
+"No; Cipher has forbid it. Each one must do his own work," said Paul.
+
+"If you will do it, I will give you a handful of raisins," said Philip,
+who usually had his pockets full of raisins, candy, or nuts.
+
+"It wouldn't be right."
+
+"Come, just do this one; Cipher never will know it."
+
+"No!" Paul said it resolutely.
+
+"You are a mean, sneaking fellow," said Philip.
+
+Philip was a year older than Paul. He had sandy hair, white eyelashes,
+and a freckled face. He carried a watch, and always had money in his
+pocket. Paul, on the other hand, hardly ever had a cent which he could
+call his own. His clothes were worn till they were almost past mending.
+
+"Rag-tag has got a hole in his trousers," said Philip to the other boys.
+
+Paul's face flushed. He wanted to knock Phillip's teeth down his throat.
+He knew that his mother had hard work to clothe him, and felt the insult
+keenly. He went into the school-house, choked his anger down, and tried
+to forget all about it by drawing a picture of the master. It was an
+excellent likeness,--his spindle legs, great feet, short pants, loose
+coat, sunken eyes, hooked nose, thin face, and long bony fingers.
+
+Philip sat behind Paul. Instead of studying his lesson, he was planning
+how to get Paul into trouble. He saw the picture. Now was his time. He
+giggled aloud. Mr. Cipher looked up in astonishment.
+
+"What are you laughing at, Master Funk?"
+
+"At what Paul is doing."
+
+Paul hustled his slate into his desk.
+
+"Let me see what you have here," said Cipher, walking up to Paul, who
+spat on his fingers, and ran his hand into the desk, to rub out the
+drawing; but he felt that it would be better to meet his punishment
+boldly than to have the school think he was a sneak. He laid the slate
+before the master without a line effaced.
+
+"Giving your attention to drawing, are you, Master Paul?" said Cipher.
+His eyes flashed. He knit his brows. The blood rushed to his cheeks.
+There was a popping up of heads all over the school-room to get a sight
+of the picture.
+
+The boys laughed aloud, and there was a tittering among the girls, which
+made Cipher very angry. "Silence!" he roared, and stamped upon the
+floor so savagely that the windows rattled. "Come out here, sir. I'll
+give you a drawing-lesson of another sort." He seized Paul by the
+collar, and threw him into the space in front of his own desk. "Hold out
+your hand."
+
+Paul felt that he was about to receive a tremendous thrashing; but he
+determined that he would not flinch. He held out his right hand, and
+received the blow from a heavy ferule. His hand felt as if he had been
+struck by a piece of hot iron.
+
+"The other, sir."
+
+Whack! it fell, a blow which made the flesh purple. There was an Oh!
+upon his tongue; but he set his teeth together, and bit his lips till
+they bled, and so smothered it. Another blow,--another,--another. They
+were hard to bear; but his teeth were set like a vice. There was a
+twitching of the muscles round his lips; he was pale. When the blows
+fell, he held his breath, but did not snivel.
+
+"I'll see if I can't bring you to your feeling, you good-for-nothing
+scapegrace," said the master, mad with passion, and surprised that Paul
+made no outcry. He gave another round, bringing the ferule down with
+great force. Blood began to ooze from the pores. The last blow spattered
+the drops around the room. Cipher came to his senses. He stopped.
+
+"Are you sorry, sir?"
+
+"I don't know whether I am or not. I didn't mean any harm. I suppose I
+ought not to have drawn it in school; but I didn't do it to make fun. I
+drew you just as you are," said Paul,--his voice trembling a little in
+spite of his efforts to control it.
+
+The master could not deny that it was a perfect likeness. He was
+surprised at Paul's cleverness at drawing, and for the first time in his
+life saw that he cut a ridiculous figure wearing that long, loose,
+swallow-tailed coat, with great, flaming brass buttons, and resolved
+upon the spot that his next coat should be a frock, and that he would
+get a longer pair of pants.
+
+"You may take your seat, sir!" he said, puzzled to know whether to
+punish Paul still more, and compel him to say that he was sorry, or
+whether to accept the explanations, and apologize for whipping him so
+severely.
+
+Paul sat down. His hands ached terribly; but what troubled him most was
+the thought that he had been whipped before the whole school. All the
+girls had witnessed his humiliation. There was one among them,--Azalia
+Adams,--who stood at the head of Paul's class, the best reader and
+speller in school. She had ruby lips, and cheeks like roses; the golden
+sunlight falling upon her chestnut hair crowned her with glory; deep,
+thoughtful, and earnest was the liquid light of her hazel eyes; she was
+as lovely and beautiful as the flower whose name she bore. Paul had
+drawn her picture many times,--sometimes bending over her task,
+sometimes as she sat, unmindful of the hum of voices around her, looking
+far away into a dim and distant dream-land. He never wearied of tracing
+the features of one so fair and good as she. Her laugh was as musical as
+a mountain-brook; and in the church on Sunday, when he heard her voice
+sweetly and melodiously mingling with the choir, he thought of the
+angels,--of her as in heaven and he on earth.
+
+"Run home, sonny, and tell your marm that you got a licking," said
+Philip when school was out.
+
+Paul's face became livid. He would have doubled his fist and given
+Philip a blow in the face, but his palms were like puff-balls. There was
+an ugly feeling inside, but just then a pair of bright hazel eyes,
+almost swimming with tears, looked into his own. "Don't mind it, Paul!"
+said Azalia.
+
+The pain was not half so hard to bear after that. He wanted to say, "I
+thank you," but did not know how. Till then his lips had hardly
+quivered, and he had not shed a tear; now his eyes became moist; one
+great drop rolled down his cheek, but he wiped it off with his
+coat-sleeve, and turned away, for fear that Azalia would think him a
+baby.
+
+On his way home the thought uppermost in his mind was, "What will mother
+say?" Why tell her? Would it not be better to keep the matter to
+himself? But then he remembered that she had said, "Paul, I shall expect
+you to tell me truthfully all that happens to you at school." He loved
+his mother. She was one of the best mothers that ever lived, working for
+him day and night. How could he abuse such confidence as she had given
+him? He would not violate it. He would not be a sneak.
+
+His mother and the Pensioner were sitting before the fire as he entered
+the house. She welcomed him with a smile,--a beautiful smile it was, for
+she was a noble woman, and Paul was her darling, her pride, the light,
+joy, and comfort of her life.
+
+"Well, Paul, how do you get on at school?" his grandfather asked.
+
+"I got a whipping to-day." It was spoken boldly and manfully.
+
+"What! My son got a whipping!" his mother exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"I am astonished. Come here, and tell me all about it."
+
+Paul stood by her side and told the story,--how Philip Funk tried to
+bribe him, how he called him names,--how, having got his lessons, he
+made a picture of the master. "Here it is, mother." He took his slate
+from his little green bag. The picture had not been effaced. His mother
+looked at it and laughed, notwithstanding her efforts to keep sober, for
+it was such a perfect likeness. She had an exquisite sense of the
+ludicrous, and Paul was like her. She was surprised to find that he
+could draw so well.
+
+"We will talk about the matter after supper," she said. She had told
+Paul many times, that, if he was justly punished at school, he must
+expect a second punishment at home; but she wanted to think awhile
+before deciding what to do. She was pleased to know that her boy could
+not be bribed to do what his conscience told him he ought not to do, and
+that he was manly and truthful. She would rather follow him to the
+church-yard and lay him in his grave beneath the bending elms, than to
+have him untruthful or wicked.
+
+The evening passed away. Paul sat before the fire, looking steadily into
+the coals. He was sober and thoughtful, wondering what his mother would
+say at last. The clock struck nine. It was his bedtime. He went and
+stood by her side once more. "You are not angry with me, mother, are
+you?"
+
+"No, my son. I do not think that you deserved so severe a punishment. I
+am rejoiced to know that you are truthful, and that you despise a mean
+act. Be always as you have been to-night in telling the truth, and I
+never shall be angry with you."
+
+He threw his arms around her neck, and gave way to tears, such as Cipher
+could not extort by his pounding. She gave him a good-night kiss,--so
+sweet that it seemed to lie upon his lips all through the night.
+
+"God bless you, Paul," said the Pensioner.
+
+Paul climbed the creaking stairs, and knelt with an overflowing heart
+to say his evening prayer. He spoke the words earnestly when he asked
+God to take care of his mother and grandfather. He was very happy. He
+looked out through the crevices in the walls, and saw the stars and the
+moon flooding the landscape with silver light. There was sweet music in
+the air,--the merry melody of the water murmuring by the mill, the
+cheerful chirping of the crickets, and the lullaby of the winds, near at
+hand and far away, putting him in mind of the choirs on earth and the
+choirs in heaven. "Don't mind it, Paul!" were the words they sung, so
+sweetly and tenderly that for many days they rang in his ears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+HARD TIMES.
+
+
+How lonesome the days when dear friends leave us to return no more, whom
+we never shall see again on earth, who will send us no message or letter
+of love from the far distant land whither they have gone! It tries our
+hearts and brings tears to our eyes to lay them in the ground. But shall
+we never, never see them again? Yes, when we have taken the same
+journey, when we have closed our eyes on earth and opened them in
+heaven.
+
+As the months rolled by, the Pensioner's eyes grew dim. He became weak
+and feeble. "The Pensioner won't stand it long," the people said.
+
+He did not rise one morning when breakfast was ready.
+
+"Come, grandpa," said Paul, opening the bedroom door and calling him;
+but there was no reply. He lay as if asleep; but his brow was cold, and
+his heart had stopped beating. He had died calmly and peacefully, and
+was forever at rest.
+
+It was a sad day to Paul when he followed the body of his dear old
+grandfather to the grave; but when he stood by his coffin, and looked
+for the last time upon his grandfather's face, and saw how peaceful it
+was and how pleasant the smile which rested upon it, as if he was
+beholding beautiful scenes,--when Paul remembered how good he was, he
+could not feel it in his soul to say, "Come back, Grandpa"; he would be
+content as it was. But the days were long and dreary, and so were the
+nights. Many the hours which Paul passed lying awake in his bed, looking
+through the crevices of the poor old house, and watching the stars and
+the clouds as they went sailing by. So he was sailing on, and the
+question would come up, Whither? He listened to the water falling over
+the dam by the mill, and to the chirping of the crickets, and the
+sighing of the wind, and the church-bell tolling the hours: they were
+sweet, yet mournful and solemn sounds. Tears stood in his eyes and
+rolled down his cheeks, as he thought that he and his mother were on
+earth, and his father and grandfather were praising God in the heavenly
+choirs. But he resolved to be good, to take care of his mother, and be
+her comfort and joy.
+
+Hard times came on. How to live was the great question; for now that his
+grandfather was gone, they could have the pension no longer. The
+neighbors were very kind. Sometimes Mr. Middlekauf, Hans's father, who
+had a great farm, left a bag of meal for them when he came into the
+village. There was little work for Paul to do in the village; but he
+kept their own garden in good trim,--the onion-bed clear of weeds, and
+the potatoes well hilled. Very pleasant it was to work there, where the
+honey-bees hummed over the beds of sage, and among his mother's flowers,
+and where bumble-bees dusted their yellow jackets in the hollyhocks.
+Swallows also built their nests under the eaves of the house, and made
+the days pleasant with their merry twittering.
+
+The old Pensioner had been a land surveyor. The compass which he used
+was a poor thing; but he had run many lines with it through the grand
+old forest. One day, as Paul was weeding the onions, it occurred to him
+that he might become a surveyor; so he went into the house, took the
+compass from its case, and sat down to study it. He found his
+grandfather's surveying-book, and began to study that. Some parts were
+hard and dry; but having resolved to master it, he was not the boy to
+give up a good resolution. It was not long before he found out how to
+run a line, how to set off angles, and how to ascertain the distance
+across a river or pond without measuring it. He went into the woods, and
+stripped great rolls of birch bark from the trees, carried them home,
+spread them out on the table, and plotted his lines with his dividers
+and ruler. He could not afford paper. He took great pleasure in making a
+sketch of the ground around the house, the garden, the orchard, the
+field, the road, and the river.
+
+The people of New Hope had long been discussing the project of building
+a new road to Fairview, which would cross the pond above the mill. But
+there was no surveyor in the region to tell them how long the bridge
+must be which they would have to build.
+
+"We will send up a kite, and thus get a string across the pond," said
+one of the citizens.
+
+"I can ascertain the distance easier than that," said Paul.
+
+Mr. Pimpleberry, the carpenter, who was to build the bridge, laughed,
+and looked with contempt upon him, Paul thought, because he was barefoot
+and had a patch on each knee.
+
+"Have you ever measured it, Paul?" Judge Adams asked.
+
+"No, sir; but I will do so just to let Mr. Pimpleberry see that I can do
+it."
+
+He ran into the house, brought out the compass, went down to the edge of
+the pond, drove a small stake in the ground, set his compass over it,
+and sighted a small oak-tree upon the other side of the pond. It
+happened that the tree was exactly south from the stake; then he turned
+the sights of his compass so that they pointed exactly east and west.
+Then he took Mr. Pimpleberry's ten-foot pole, and measured out fifty
+feet toward the west, and drove another stake. Then he set his compass
+there, and took another sight at the small oak-tree across the pond. It
+was not south now, but several degrees east of south. Then he turned his
+compass so that the sights would point just the same number of degrees
+to the east of north.
+
+"Now, Mr. Pimpleberry," said Paul, "I want you to stand out there, and
+hold your ten-foot pole just where I tell you, putting yourself in range
+with the stake I drove first and the tree across the pond."
+
+Mr. Pimpleberry did as he was desired.
+
+"Drive a stake where your pole stands," said Paul.
+
+Mr. Pimpleberry did so.
+
+"Now measure the distance from the one you have just driven to my first
+stake, and that will be the distance across the pond," said Paul.
+
+"I don't believe it," said Mr. Pimpleberry.
+
+"Paul is right," said Judge Adams. "I understand the principle. He has
+done it correctly."
+
+The Judge was proud of him. Mr. Pimpleberry and Mr. Funk, and several
+other citizens, were astonished; for they had no idea that Paul could do
+anything of the kind. Notwithstanding Paul had given the true distance,
+he received no thanks from any one; yet he didn't care for that; for he
+had shown Mr. Pimpleberry that he could do it, and that was glory
+enough.
+
+Paul loved fun as well as ever. Rare times he had at school. One windy
+day, a little boy, when he entered the school-room, left the door open.
+"Go back and shut the door," shouted Mr. Cipher, who was very irritable
+that morning. Another boy entered, and left it open. Mr. Cipher was
+angry, and spoke to the whole school: "Any one who comes in to-day and
+does not shut the door will get a flogging. Now remember!" Being very
+awkward in his manners, inefficient in government, and shallow-brained
+and vain, he commanded very little respect from the scholars.
+
+"Boys, there is a chance for us to have a jolly time with Cipher," said
+Paul at recess.
+
+"What is it?" Hans Middlekauf asked, ready for fun of any sort. The boys
+gathered round, for they knew that Paul was a capital hand in inventing
+games.
+
+"You remember what Cipher said about leaving the door open."
+
+"Well, what of it?" Hans Middlekauf asked.
+
+"Let every one of us show him that we can obey him. When he raps for us
+to go in, I want you all to form in line. I'll lead off, go in and shut
+the door; you follow next, Hans, and be sure and shut the door; you come
+next, Philip; then Michael, and so on,--every one shutting the door. If
+you don't, remember that Cipher has promised to flog you."
+
+The boys saw through the joke, and laughed heartily. "Jingo, that is a
+good one, Paul. Cipher will be as mad as a March hare. I'll make the old
+door rattle," said Hans.
+
+Rap--rap--rap--rap! went the master's ruler upon the window.
+
+"Fall into line, boys," said Paul. They obeyed orders as if he were a
+general. "Now remember, every one of you, to shut the door just as soon
+as you are in. Do it quick, and take your seats. Don't laugh, but be as
+sober as deacons." There was giggling in the ranks. "Silence!" said
+Paul. The boys smoothed their faces. Paul opened the door, stepped in,
+and shut it in an instant,--slam! Hans opened it,--slam! it went, with a
+jar which made the windows rattle. Philip followed,--slam! Michael
+next,--bang! it went, jarring the house.
+
+"Let the door be open," said Cipher; but Michael was in his seat;
+and--bang! again,--slam!--bang!--slam!--bang! it went.
+
+"Let it be open, I say!" he roared, but the boys outside did not hear
+him, and it kept going,--slam!--slam!--slam!--bang!--bang!--bang!--till
+the fiftieth boy was in.
+
+"You started that, sir," Cipher said, addressing Paul, for he had
+discovered that Paul Parker loved fun, and was a leading spirit among
+the boys.
+
+"I obeyed your orders, sir," Paul replied ready to burst into a roar at
+the success of his experiment.
+
+"Did you not tell the boys to slam the door as hard as they could?"
+
+"No, sir. I told them to remember what you had said, and that, if they
+didn't shut the door, they would get a flogging."
+
+"That is just what he said, Master," said Hans Middlekauf, brimming over
+with fun. Cipher could not dispute it. He saw that they had literally
+obeyed his orders, and that he had been outwitted. He did not know what
+to do; and being weak and inefficient, did nothing.
+
+Paul loved hunting and fishing; on Saturday afternoons he made the woods
+ring with the crack of his grandfather's gun, bringing squirrels from
+the tallest trees, and taking quails upon the wing. He was quick to see,
+and swift to take aim. He was cool of nerve, and so steady of aim that
+he rarely missed. It was summer, and he wore no shoes. He walked so
+lightly that he scarcely rustled a leaf. The partridges did not see him
+till he was close upon them, and then, before they could rise from their
+cover flash!--bang!--and they went into his bag.
+
+One day as he was on his return from the woods, with the gun upon his
+shoulder, and the powder-horn at his side, he saw a gathering of people
+in the street. Men, women, and children were out,--the women without
+bonnets. He wondered what was going on. Some women were wringing their
+hands; and all were greatly excited.
+
+"O dear, isn't it dreadful!" "What will become of us?" "The Lord have
+mercy upon us!"--were the expressions which he heard. Then they wrung
+their hands again, and moaned.
+
+"What is up?" he asked of Hans Middlekauf.
+
+"Haven't you heard?"
+
+"No, what is it?"
+
+"Why, there is a big black bull-dog, the biggest that ever was, that has
+run mad. He has bitten ever so many other dogs, and horses, sheep, and
+cattle. He is as big as a bear, and froths at the mouth. He is the
+savagest critter that ever was," said Hans in a breath.
+
+"Why don't somebody kill him?"
+
+"They are afraid of him," said Hans.
+
+"I should think they might kill him," Paul replied.
+
+"I reckon you would run as fast as anybody else, if he should show
+himself round here," said Hans.
+
+"There he is! Run! run! run for your lives!" was the sudden cry.
+
+Paul looked up the street, and saw a very large bull-dog coming upon the
+trot. Never was there such a scampering. People ran into the nearest
+houses, pellmell. One man jumped into his wagon, lashed his horse into a
+run, and went down the street, losing his hat in his flight, while Hans
+Middlekauf went up a tree.
+
+"Run, Paul! Run! he'll bite you!" cried Mr. Leatherby from the window of
+his shoe-shop. People looked out from the windows and repeated the cry,
+a half-dozen at once; but Paul took no notice of them. Those who were
+nearest him heard the click of his gun-lock. The dog came nearer,
+growling, and snarling, his mouth wide open, showing his teeth, his eyes
+glaring, and white froth dripping from his lips. Paul stood alone in the
+street. There was a sudden silence. It was a scene for a painter,--a
+barefoot boy in patched clothes, with an old hat on his head, standing
+calmly before the brute whose bite was death in its most terrible form.
+One thought had taken possession of Paul's mind, that he ought to kill
+the dog.
+
+Nearer, nearer, came the dog; he was not a rod off. Paul had read that
+no animal can withstand the steady gaze of the human eye. He looked the
+dog steadily in the face. He held his breath. Not a nerve trembled. The
+dog stopped, looked at Paul a moment, broke into a louder growl, opened
+his jaws wider, his eyes glaring more wildly, and stepped slowly
+forward. Now or never, Paul thought, was his time. The breach of the gun
+touched his shoulder; his eye ran along the barrel,--bang! the dog
+rolled over with a yelp and a howl, but was up again, growling and
+trying to get at Paul, who in an instant seized his gun by the barrel,
+and brought the breech down upon the dog's skull, giving him blow after
+blow.
+
+"Kill him! kill him!" shouted the people from the windows.
+
+"Give it to him! Mash his head!" cried Hans from the tree.
+
+The dog soon became a mangled and bloody mass of flesh and bones. The
+people came out from their houses.
+
+"That was well done for a boy," said Mr. Funk.
+
+"Or for a man either," said Mr. Chrome, who came up and patted Paul on
+his back.
+
+"I should have thrown my lapstone at him, if I could have got my window
+open," said Mr. Leatherby. Mr. Noggin, the cooper, who had taken refuge
+in Leatherby's shop, afterwards said that Leatherby was frightened half
+to death, and kept saying, "Just as like as not he will make a spring
+and dart right through the window!"
+
+"Nobly, bravely done, Paul," said Judge Adams. "Let me shake hands with
+you, my boy." He and Mrs. Adams and Azalia had seen it all from their
+parlor window.
+
+"O Paul, I was afraid he would bite and kill you, or that your gun would
+miss fire. I trembled all over just like a leaf," said Azalia, still
+pale and trembling. "O, I am so glad you have killed him!" She looked up
+into his face earnestly, and there was such a light in her eyes, that
+Paul was glad he had killed the dog, for her sake.
+
+"Weren't you afraid, Paul?" she asked.
+
+"No. If I had been afraid, I should have missed him, perhaps; I made up
+my mind to kill him, and what was the use of being afraid?"
+
+Many were the praises bestowed upon Paul. "How noble! how heroic!" the
+people said. Hans told the story to all the boys in the village. "Paul
+was just as cool as--cool as--a cucumber," he said, that being the best
+comparison he could think of. The people came and looked at the dog, to
+see how large he was, and how savage, and went away saying, "I am glad
+he is dead, but I don't see how Paul had the courage to face him."
+
+Paul went home and told his mother what had happened. She turned pale
+while listening to the story, and held her breath, and clasped her
+hands; but when he had finished, and when she thought that, if Paul had
+not killed the dog, many might have been bitten, she was glad, and said,
+"You did right, my son. It is our duty to face danger if we can do
+good." A tear glistened in her eye as she kissed him. "God bless you,
+Paul," she said, and smiled upon him through her tears.
+
+All the dogs which had been bitten were killed to prevent them from
+running mad. A hard time of it the dogs of New Hope had, for some which
+had not been bitten did not escape the dog-killers, who went through the
+town knocking them over with clubs.
+
+Although Paul was so cool and courageous in the moment of danger, he
+trembled and felt weak afterwards when he thought of the risk he had
+run. That night when he said his evening prayer, he thanked God for
+having protected him. He dreamed it all over again in the night. He saw
+the dog coming at him with his mouth wide open, the froth dropping from
+his lips, and his eyes glaring. He heard his growl,--only it was not a
+growl, but a branch of the old maple which rubbed against the house when
+the wind blew. That was what set him a-dreaming. In his dream he had no
+gun, so he picked up the first thing he could lay his hands on, and let
+drive at the dog. Smash! there was a great racket, and a jingling of
+glass. Paul was awake in an instant, and found that he had jumped out of
+bed, and was standing in the middle of the floor, and that he had
+knocked over the spinning-wheel, and a lot of old trumpery, and had
+thrown one of his grandfather's old boots through the window.
+
+"What in the world are you up to, Paul?" his mother asked, calling from
+the room below, in alarm.
+
+"Killing the dog a second time, mother," Paul replied, laughing and
+jumping into bed again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+MERRY TIMES.
+
+
+When the long northeast storms set in, and the misty clouds hung over
+the valley, and went hurrying away to the west, brushing the tops of the
+trees; when the rain, hour after hour, and day after day, fell aslant
+upon the roof of the little old house; when the wind swept around the
+eaves, and dashed in wild gusts against the windows, and moaned and
+wailed in the forests,--then it was that Paul sometimes felt his spirits
+droop, for the circumstances of life were all against him. He was poor.
+His dear, kind mother was sick. She had worked day and night to keep
+that terrible wolf from the door, which is always prowling around the
+houses of poor people. But the wolf had come, and was looking in at the
+windows. There was a debt due Mr. Funk for rice, sugar, biscuit, tea,
+and other things which Doctor Arnica said his mother must have. There
+was the doctor's bill. The flour-barrel was getting low, and the
+meal-bag was almost empty. Paul saw the wolf every night as he lay in
+his bed, and he wished he could kill it.
+
+When his mother was taken sick, he left school and became her nurse. It
+was hard for him to lay down his books, for he loved them, but it was
+pleasant to wait upon her. The neighbors were kind. Azalia Adams often
+came tripping in with something nice,--a tumbler of jelly, or a plate of
+toast, which her mother had prepared; and she had such cheerful words,
+and spoke so pleasantly, and moved round the room so softly, putting
+everything in order, that the room was lighter, even on the darkest
+days, for her presence.
+
+When, after weeks of confinement to her bed, Paul's mother was strong
+enough to sit in her easy-chair, Paul went out to fight the wolf. He
+worked for Mr. Middlekauf, in his cornfield. He helped Mr. Chrome paint
+wagons. He surveyed land, and ran lines for the farmers, earning a
+little here and a little there. As fast as he obtained a dollar, it went
+to pay the debts. As the seasons passed away,--spring, summer, and
+autumn,--Paul could see that the wolf howled less fiercely day by day.
+He denied himself everything, except plain food. He was tall, stout,
+hearty, and rugged. The winds gave him health; his hands were hard, but
+his heart was tender. When through with his day's work, though his bones
+ached and his eyes were drowsy, he seldom went to sleep without first
+studying awhile, and closing with a chapter from the Bible, for he
+remembered what his grandfather often said,--that a chapter from the
+Bible was a good thing to sleep on.
+
+The cool and bracing breezes of November, the nourishing food which Paul
+obtained, brought the color once more to his mother's cheeks; and when
+at length she was able to be about the house, they had a jubilee,--a
+glad day of thanksgiving,--for, in addition to this blessing of health,
+Paul had killed the wolf, and the debts were all paid.
+
+As the winter came on, the subject of employing Mr. Rhythm to teach a
+singing-school was discussed. Mr. Quaver, a tall, slim man, with a long,
+red nose, had led the choir for many years. He had a loud voice, and
+twisted his words so badly, that his singing was like the blare of a
+trumpet. On Sundays, after Rev. Mr. Surplice read the hymn, the people
+were accustomed to hear a loud Hawk! from Mr. Quaver, as he tossed his
+tobacco-quid into a spittoon, and an Ahem! from Miss Gamut. She was the
+leading first treble, a small lady with a sharp, shrill voice. Then Mr.
+Fiddleman sounded the key on the bass-viol, do-mi-sol-do, helping the
+trebles and tenors climb the stairs of the scale; then he hopped down
+again, and rounded off with a thundering swell at the bottom, to let
+them know he was safely down, and ready to go ahead. Mr. Quaver led, and
+the choir followed like sheep, all in their own way and fashion.
+
+The people had listened to this style of music till they were tired of
+it. They wanted a change, and decided to engage Mr. Rhythm, a nice young
+man, to teach a singing-school for the young folks. "We have a hundred
+boys and girls here in the village, who ought to learn to sing, so that
+they can sit in the singing-seats, and praise God," said Judge Adams.
+
+But Mr. Quaver opposed the project. "The young folks want a frolic,
+sir," he said; "yes, sir, a frolic, a high time. Rhythm will be teaching
+them newfangled notions. You know, Judge, that I hate flummididdles; I
+go for the good old things, sir. The old tunes which have stood the wear
+and tear of time, and the good old style of singing, sir."
+
+Mr. Quaver did not say all he thought, for he could see that, if the
+singing-school was kept, he would be in danger of losing his position as
+chorister. But, notwithstanding his opposition, Mr. Rhythm was engaged
+to teach the school. Paul determined to attend. He loved music.
+
+"You haven't any coat fit to wear," said his mother. "I have altered
+over your grandfather's pants and vest for you, but I cannot alter his
+coat. You will have to stay at home, I guess."
+
+"I can't do that, mother, for Mr. Rhythm is one of the best teachers
+that ever was, and I don't want to miss the chance. I'll wear grandpa's
+coat just as it is."
+
+"The school will laugh at you."
+
+"Well, let them laugh, I sha'n't stay at home for that. I guess I can
+stand it," said Paul, resolutely.
+
+The evening fixed upon for the school to commence arrived. All the young
+folks in the town were there. Those who lived out of the village,--the
+farmers' sons and daughters,--came in red, yellow, and green wagons. The
+girls wore close-fitting hoods with pink linings, which they called
+"kiss-me-if-ye-dares." Their cheeks were all aglow with the excitement
+of the occasion. When they saw Mr. Rhythm, how pleasant and smiling he
+was,--when they heard his voice, so sweet and melodious,--when they saw
+how spryly he walked, as if he meant to accomplish what he had
+undertaken,--they said to one another, "How different he is from Mr.
+Quaver!"
+
+Paul was late on the first evening; for when he put on his grandfather's
+coat, his mother planned a long while to see if there was not some way
+by which she could make it look better. Once she took the shears and was
+going to cut off the tail, but Paul stopped her. "I don't want it
+curtailed, mother."
+
+"It makes you look like a little old man, Paul; I wouldn't go."
+
+"If I had better clothes, I should wear them, mother; but as I haven't,
+I shall wear these. I hope to earn money enough some time to get a
+better coat; but grandpa wore this, and I am not ashamed to wear what he
+wore," he replied, more resolute than ever. Perhaps, if he could have
+seen how he looked, he would not have been quite so determined, for the
+sleeves hung like bags on his arms, and the tail almost touched the
+floor.
+
+Mr. Rhythm had just rapped the scholars to their seats when Paul
+entered. There was a tittering, a giggle, then a roar of laughter. Mr.
+Rhythm looked round to see what was the matter, and smiled. For a moment
+Paul's courage failed him. It was not so easy to be laughed at as he had
+imagined. He was all but ready to turn about and leave the room. "No I
+won't, I'll face it out," he said to himself, walking deliberately to a
+seat, and looking bravely round, as if asking, "What are you laughing
+at?"
+
+There was something in his manner which instantly won Mr. Rhythm's
+respect, and which made him ashamed of himself for having laughed.
+"Silence! No more laughing," he said; but, notwithstanding the command,
+there was a constant tittering among the girls. Mr. Rhythm began by
+saying, "We will sing Old Hundred. I want you all to sing, whether you
+can sing right or not." He snapped his tuning-fork, and began. The
+school followed, each one singing,--putting in sharps, flats, naturals,
+notes, and rests, just as they pleased. "Very well. Good volume of
+sound. Only I don't think Old Hundred ever was sung so before, or ever
+will be again," said the master, smiling.
+
+Michael Murphy was confident that he sang gloriously, though he never
+varied his tone up or down. He was ciphering in fractions at school, and
+what most puzzled him were the figures set to the bass. He wondered if
+6/4 was a vulgar fraction, and if so, he thought it would be better to
+express it as a mixed number, 1-1/2.
+
+During the evening, Mr. Rhythm, noticing that Michael sang without any
+variation of tone, said, "Now, Master Murphy, please sing _la_ with
+me";--and Michael sang bravely, not frightened in the least.
+
+"Very well. Now please sing it a little higher."
+
+"_La_," sang Michael on the same pitch, but louder.
+
+"Not louder, but higher."
+
+"LA!" responded Michael, still louder, but with the pitch unchanged.
+
+There was tittering among the girls.
+
+"Not so, but thus,"--and Mr. Rhythm gave an example, first low, then
+high. "Now once more."
+
+"LA!" bellowed Michael on the same pitch.
+
+Daphne Dare giggled aloud, and the laughter, like a train of powder,
+ran through the girls' seats over to the boys' side of the house, where
+it exploded in a loud haw! haw! Michael laughed with the others, but he
+did not know what for.
+
+Recess came. "Halloo, Grandpa! How are you, Old Pensioner? Your coat
+puckers under the arms, and there is a wrinkle in the back," said Philip
+Funk to Paul. His sister Fanny pointed her finger at him; and Paul heard
+her whisper to one of the girls, "Did you ever see such a monkey?"
+
+It nettled him, and so, losing his temper, he said to Philip, "Mind your
+business."
+
+"Just hear Grandaddy Parker, the old gentleman in the bob-tailed coat,"
+said Philip.
+
+"You are a puppy," said Paul. But he was vexed with himself for having
+said it. If he had held his tongue, and kept his temper, and braved the
+sneers of Philip in silence, he might have won a victory; for he
+remembered a Sunday-school lesson upon the text, "He that ruleth his
+spirit is greater than he that taketh a city." As it was, he had
+suffered a defeat, and went home that night disgusted with himself.
+
+Pleasant were those singing-school evenings. Under Mr. Rhythm's
+instructions the young people made rapid progress. Then what fine times
+they had at recess, eating nuts, apples, and confectionery, picking out
+the love-rhymes from the sugar-cockles!
+
+
+                "I cannot tell the love
+                 I feel for you, my dove."
+
+was Philip's gift to Azalia. Paul had no money to purchase sweet things
+at the store; his presents were nuts which he had gathered in the
+autumn. In the kindness of his heart he gave a double-handful to
+Philip's sister, Fanny; but she turned up her nose, and let them drop
+upon the floor.
+
+Society in New Hope was mixed. Judge Adams, Colonel Dare, and Mr. Funk
+were rich men. Colonel Dare was said to be worth a hundred thousand
+dollars. No one knew what Mr. Funk was worth; but he had a store, and a
+distillery, which kept smoking day and night and Sunday, without
+cessation, grinding up corn, and distilling it into whiskey. There was
+always a great black smoke rising from the distillery-chimney. The fires
+were always roaring, and the great vats steaming. Colonel Dare made his
+money by buying and selling land, wool, corn, and cattle. Judge Adams
+was an able lawyer, known far and near as honest, upright, and learned.
+He had a large practice; but though the Judge and Colonel were so
+wealthy, and lived in fine houses, they did not feel that they were
+better than their neighbors, so that there was no aristocracy in the
+place, but the rich and the poor were alike respected and esteemed.
+
+The New Year was at hand, and Daphne Dare was to give a party. She was
+Colonel Dare's only child,--a laughing, blue-eyed, sensible girl, who
+attended the village school, and was in the same class with Paul.
+
+"Whom shall I invite to my party, father?" she asked.
+
+"Just whom you please, my dear," said the Colonel.
+
+"I don't know what to do about inviting Paul Parker. Fanny Funk says she
+don't want to associate with a fellow who is so poor that he wears his
+grandfather's old clothes," said Daphne.
+
+"Poverty is not a crime, my daughter. I was poor once,--poor as Paul is.
+Money is not virtue, my dear. It is a good thing to have; but persons
+are not necessarily bad because they are poor, neither are they good
+because they are rich," said the Colonel.
+
+"Should you invite him, father, if you were in my place?"
+
+"I do not wish to say, my child, for I want you to decide the matter
+yourself."
+
+"Azalia says that she would invite him; but Fanny says that if I invite
+him, she shall not come."
+
+"Aha!" The Colonel opened his eyes wide. "Well, my dear, you are not to
+be influenced wholly by what Azalia says, and you are to pay no
+attention to what Fanny threatens. You make the party. You have a
+perfect right to invite whom you please; and if Fanny don't choose to
+come, she has the privilege of staying away. I think, however, that she
+will not be likely to stay at home even if you give Paul an invitation.
+Be guided by your own sense of right, my darling. That is the best
+guide."
+
+"I wish you'd give Paul a coat, father. You can afford to, can't you?"
+
+"Yes; but he can't afford to receive it," Daphne looked at her father in
+amazement. "He can't afford to receive such a gift from me, because it
+is better for him to fight the battle of life without any help from me
+or anybody else at present. A good man offered to help me when I was a
+poor boy; but I thanked him, and said, 'No, sir.' I had made up my mind
+to cut my own way, and I guess Paul has made up his mind to do the same
+thing," said the Colonel.
+
+"I shall invite him. I'll let Fanny know that I have a mind of my own,"
+said Daphne, with determination in her voice.
+
+Her father kissed her, but kept his thoughts to himself. He appeared to
+be pleased, and Daphne thought that he approved her decision.
+
+The day before New Year Paul received a neatly folded note, addressed to
+Mr. Paul Parker. How funny it looked! It was the first time in his life
+that he had seen "Mr." prefixed to his name. He opened it, and read that
+Miss Daphne Dare would receive her friends on New Year's eve at seven
+o'clock. A great many thoughts passed through his mind. How could he go
+and wear his grandfather's coat? At school he was on equal footing with
+all; but to be one of a party in a richly furnished parlor, where
+Philip, Fanny, and Azalia, and other boys and girls whose fathers had
+money, could turn their backs on him and snub him, was very different.
+It was very kind in Daphne to invite him, and ought he not to accept her
+invitation? Would she not think it a slight if he did not go? What
+excuse could he offer if he stayed away? None, except that he had no
+nice clothes. But she knew that, yet she had invited him. She was a
+true-hearted girl, and would not have asked him if she had not wanted
+him. Thus he turned the matter over, and decided to go.
+
+But when the time came, Paul was in no haste to be there. Two or three
+times his heart failed him, while on his way; but looking across the
+square, and seeing Colonel Dare's house all aglow,--lights in the
+parlors and chambers, he pushed on resolutely, determined to be manly,
+notwithstanding his poverty. He reached the house, rang the bell, and
+was welcomed by Daphne in the hall.
+
+"Good evening, Paul. You are very late. I was afraid you were not
+coming. All the others are here," she said, her face beaming with
+happiness, joy, and excitement. She was elegantly dressed, for she was
+her father's pet, and he bought everything for her which he thought
+would make her happy.
+
+"Better late than never, isn't it?" said Paul, not knowing what else to
+say.
+
+Although the party had been assembled nearly an hour, there had been no
+games. The girls were huddled in groups on one side of the room, and the
+boys on the other, all shy, timid, and waiting for somebody to break the
+ice. Azalia was playing the piano, while Philip stood by her side. He
+was dressed in a new suit of broadcloth, and wore an eye-glass. Fanny
+was present, though she had threatened not to attend if Paul was
+invited. She had changed her mind. She thought it would be better to
+attend and make the place too hot for Paul; she would get up such a
+laugh upon him that he would be glad to take his hat and sneak away, and
+never show himself in respectable society again. Philip was in the
+secret, and so were a dozen others who looked up to Philip and Fanny.
+Daphne entered the parlor, followed by Paul. There was a sudden
+tittering, snickering, and laughing. Paul stopped and bowed, then stood
+erect.
+
+"I declare, if there isn't old Grandaddy," said Philip, squinting
+through his eye-glass.
+
+"O my! how funny!" said a girl from Fairview.
+
+"Ridiculous! It is a shame!" said Fanny, turning up her nose.
+
+"Who is he?" the Fairview girl asked.
+
+"A poor fellow who lives on charity,--so poor that he wears his
+grandfather's old clothes. We don't associate with him," was Fanny's
+reply.
+
+Paul heard it. His cheek flushed, but he stood there, determined to
+brave it out. Azalia heard and saw it all. She stopped playing in the
+middle of a measure, rose from her seat with her cheeks all aflame, and
+walked towards Paul, extending her hand and welcoming him. "I am glad
+you have come, Paul. We want you to wake us up. We have been half
+asleep," she said.
+
+The laughter ceased instantly, for Azalia was queen among them.
+Beautiful in form and feature, her chestnut hair falling in luxuriant
+curls upon her shoulders, her dark hazel eyes flashing indignantly, her
+cheeks like blush-roses, every feature of her countenance lighted up by
+the excitement of the moment, her bearing subdued the conspiracy at
+once, hushing the derisive laughter, and compelling respect, not only
+for herself, but for Paul. It required an effort on his part to keep
+back the tears from his eyes, so grateful was he for her kindness.
+
+"Yes, Paul, we want you to be our general, and tell us what to do," said
+Daphne.
+
+"Very well, let us have Copenhagen to begin with," he said.
+
+The ice was broken. Daphne brought in her mother's clothes-line, the
+chairs were taken from the room, and in five minutes the parlor was
+humming like a beehive.
+
+"I don't see what you can find to like in that disagreeable creature,"
+said Philip to Azalia.
+
+"He is a good scholar, and kind to his mother, and you know how
+courageous he was when he killed that terrible dog," was her reply.
+
+"I think he is an impudent puppy. What right has he to thrust himself
+into good company, wearing his grandfather's old clothes?" Philip
+responded, dangling his eye-glass and running his soft hand through his
+hair.
+
+"Paul is poor; but I never have heard anything against his character,"
+said Azalia.
+
+"Poor folks ought to be kept out of good society," said Philip.
+
+"What do you say to that picture?" said Azalia, directing his attention
+towards a magnificent picture of Franklin crowned with laurel by the
+ladies of the court of France, which hung on the wall. "Benjamin
+Franklin was a poor boy, and dipped candles for a living; but he became
+a great man."
+
+"Dipped candles! Why, I never heard of that before," said Philip,
+looking at the engraving through his eye-glass.
+
+"I don't think it is any disgrace to Paul to be poor. I am glad that
+Daphne invited him," said Azalia, so resolutely that Philip remained
+silent. He was shallow-brained and ignorant, and thought it not best to
+hazard an exposure of his ignorance by pursuing the conversation.
+
+After Copenhagen they had Fox and Geese, and Blind-man's-buff. They
+guessed riddles and conundrums, had magic writing, questions and
+answers, and made the parlor, the sitting-room, the spacious halls, and
+the wide stairway ring with their merry laughter. How pleasant the
+hours! Time flew on swiftest wings. They had a nice supper,--sandwiches,
+tongue, ham, cakes, custards, floating-islands, apples, and nuts. After
+supper they had stories, serious and laughable, about ghosts and
+witches, till the clock in the dining-room held up both of its hands and
+pointed to the figure twelve, as if in amazement at their late staying.
+"Twelve o'clock! Why, how short the evening has been!" said they, when
+they found how late it was. They had forgotten all about Paul's coat,
+for he had been the life of the party, suggesting something new when the
+games lagged. He was so gentlemanly, and laughed so heartily and
+pleasantly, and was so wide awake, and managed everything so well, that,
+notwithstanding the conspiracy to put him down, he had won the good will
+of all the party.
+
+During the evening Colonel Dare and Mrs. Dare entered the room. The
+Colonel shook hands with Paul, and said, "I am very happy to see you
+here to-night, Paul." It was spoken so heartily and pleasantly that Paul
+knew the Colonel meant it.
+
+The young gentlemen were to wait upon the young ladies home. Their
+hearts went pit-a-pat. They thought over whom to ask and what to say.
+They walked nervously about the hall, pulling on their gloves, while the
+girls were putting on their cloaks and hoods up stairs. They also were
+in a fever of expectation and excitement, whispering mysteriously, their
+hearts going like trip-hammers.
+
+Daphne stood by the door to bid her guests good night. "I am very glad
+that you came to-night, Paul," she said, pressing his hand in
+gratitude, "I don't know what we should have done without you."
+
+"I have passed a very pleasant evening," he replied.
+
+Azalia came tripping down the stairs. "Shall I see you home, Azalia?"
+Paul asked.
+
+"Miss Adams, shall I have the delightful pleasure of being permitted to
+escort you to your residence?" said Philip, with his most gallant air,
+at the same time pushing by Paul with a contemptuous look.
+
+"Thank you, Philip, but I have an escort," said Azalia, accepting Paul's
+arm.
+
+The night was frosty and cold, though it was clear and pleasant. The
+full moon was high in the heavens, the air was still, and there were no
+sounds to break the peaceful silence, except the water dashing over the
+dam by the mill, the footsteps of the departing guests upon the frozen
+ground, and the echoing of their voices. Now that he was with Azalia
+alone, Paul wanted to tell her how grateful he was for all she had done
+for him; but he could only say, "I thank you, Azalia, for your kindness
+to me to-night."
+
+"O, don't mention it, Paul; I am glad if I have helped you. Good
+night."
+
+How light-hearted he was! He went home, and climbed the creaking
+stairway, to his chamber. The moon looked in upon him, and smiled. He
+could not sleep, so happy was he. How sweet those parting words! The
+water babbled them to the rocks, and beyond the river in the grand old
+forest, where the breezes were blowing, there was a pleasant murmuring
+of voices, as if the elms and oaks were having a party, and all were
+saying, "We are glad if we have helped you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+MUSIC AND PAINTING.
+
+
+Philip went home alone from the party, out of sorts with himself, angry
+with Azalia, and boiling over with wrath toward Paul. He set his teeth
+together, and clenched his fist. He would like to blacken Paul's eyes
+and flatten his nose. The words of Azalia--"I know nothing against
+Paul's character"--rang in his ears and vexed him. He thought upon them
+till his steps, falling upon the frozen ground, seemed to say,
+"Character!--character!--character!" as if Paul had something which he
+had not.
+
+"So because he has character, and I haven't, you give me the mitten, do
+you, Miss Azalia?" he said, as if he was addressing Azalia.
+
+He knew that Paul had a good name. He was the best singer in the
+singing-school, and Mr. Rhythm often called upon him to sing in a duet
+with Azalia or Daphne. Sometimes he sang a solo so well, that the
+spectators whispered to one another, that, if Paul went on as he had
+begun, he would be ahead of Mr. Rhythm.
+
+Philip had left the singing-school. It was dull music to him to sit
+through the evening, and say "Down, left, right, up," and be drilled,
+hour after hour. It was vastly more agreeable to lounge in the bar-room
+of the tavern, with a half-dozen good fellows, smoking cigars, playing
+cards, taking a drink of whiskey, and, when it was time for the
+singing-school to break up, go home with the girls, then return to the
+tavern and carouse till midnight or later. To be cut out by Paul in his
+attentions to Azalia was intolerable.
+
+"Character!--character!--character!" said his boots all the while as he
+walked. He stopped short, and ground his heels into the frozen earth. He
+was in front of Miss Dobb's house.
+
+Miss Dobb was a middle-aged lady, who wore spectacles, had a sharp nose,
+a peaked chin, a pinched-up mouth, thin cheeks, and long, bony fingers.
+She kept the village school when Paul and Philip were small boys, and
+Paul used to think that she wanted to pick him to pieces, her fingers
+were so long and bony. She knew pretty much all that was going on in
+the village, for she visited somewhere every afternoon to find out what
+had happened. Captain Binnacle called her the Daily Advertiser.
+
+"You are the cause of my being jilted, you tattling old maid; you have
+told that I was a good-for-nothing scapegrace, and I'll pay you for it,"
+said Philip, shaking his fist at the house; and walked on again,
+meditating how to do it, his boots at each successive step saying,
+"Character! character!"
+
+He went home and tossed all night in his bed, not getting a wink of
+sleep, planning how to pay Miss Dobb, and upset Paul.
+
+The next night Philip went to bed earlier than usual, saying, with a
+yawn, as he took the light to go up stairs, "How sleepy I am!" But,
+instead of going to sleep, he never was more wide awake. He lay till all
+in the house were asleep, till he heard the clock strike twelve, then
+arose, went down stairs softly, carrying his boots, and, when outside
+the door, put them on. He looked round to see if there was any one
+astir; but the village was still,--there was not a light to be seen. He
+went to Mr. Chrome's shop, stopped, and looked round once more; but,
+seeing no one, raised a window and entered. The moon streamed through
+the windows, and fell upon the floor, making the shop so light that he
+had no difficulty in finding Mr. Chrome's paint buckets and brushes.
+Then, with a bucket in his hand, he climbed out, closed the window, and
+went to Miss Dobb's. He approached softly, listening and looking to see
+if any one was about; but there were no footsteps except his own. He
+painted great letters on the side of the house, chuckling as he thought
+of what would happen in the morning.
+
+"There, Miss Vinegar, you old liar, I won't charge anything for that
+sign," he said, when he had finished. He left the bucket on the step,
+and went home, chuckling all the way.
+
+In the morning Miss Dobb saw a crowd of people in front of her house,
+looking towards it and laughing. Mr. Leatherby had come out from his
+shop; Mr. Noggin, the cooper, was there, smoking his pipe; also, Mrs.
+Shelbarke, who lived across the street. Philip was there. "That is a
+'cute trick, I vow," said he. Everybody was on a broad grin.
+
+"What in the world is going on, I should like to know!" said Miss Dobb,
+greatly wondering. "There must be something funny. Why, they are
+looking at my house, as true as I am alive!"
+
+Miss Dobb was not a woman to be kept in the dark about anything a great
+while. She stepped to the front door, opened it, and with her
+pleasantest smile and softest tone of voice said: "Good morning,
+neighbors; you seem to be very much pleased at something. May I ask what
+you see to laugh at?"
+
+"Te-he-he-he!" snickered a little boy, who pointed to the side of the
+house, and the by-standers followed his lead, with a loud chorus of
+guffaws.
+
+Miss Dobb looked upon the wall, and saw, in red letters, as if she had
+gone into business, opened a store, and put out a sign,--"MISS DOBB,
+LIES, SCANDAL, GOSSIP, WHOLESALE AND RETAIL."
+
+She threw up her hands in horror. Her eyes flashed; she gasped for
+breath. There was a paint-bucket and brush on the door-step; on one side
+of the bucket she saw the word Chrome.
+
+"The villain! I'll make him smart for this," she said, running in,
+snatching her bonnet, and out again, making all haste towards Squire
+Capias's office, to have Mr. Chrome arrested.
+
+The Squire heard her story. There was a merry twinkling of his eye, but
+he kept his countenance till she was through.
+
+"I do not think that Mr. Chrome did it; he is not such a fool as to
+leave his bucket and brush there as evidence against him; you had better
+let it rest awhile," said he.
+
+Mr. Chrome laughed when he saw the sign. "I didn't do it; I was abed and
+asleep, as my wife will testify. Somebody stole my bucket and brush; but
+it is a good joke on Dobb, I'll be blamed if it isn't," said he.
+
+Who did it? That was the question.
+
+"I will give fifty dollars to know," said Miss Dobb, her lips quivering
+with anger.
+
+Philip heard her and said, "Isn't there a fellow who sometimes helps Mr.
+Chrome paint wagons?"
+
+"Yes, I didn't think of him. It is just like him. There he comes now;
+I'll make him confess it." Miss Dobb's eyes flashed, her lips trembled,
+she was so angry. She remembered that one of the pigs which Paul
+painted, when he was a boy, was hers; she also remembered how he sent
+Mr. Smith's old white horse on a tramp after a bundle of hay.
+
+Paul was on his way to Mr. Chrome's shop, to begin work for the day. He
+wondered at the crowd. He saw the sign, and laughed with the rest.
+
+"You did that, sir," said Miss Dobb, coming up to him, reaching out her
+long hand and clutching at him with her bony fingers, as if she would
+like to tear him to pieces. "You did it, you villain! Now you needn't
+deny it; you painted my pig once, and now you have done this. You are a
+mean, good-for-nothing scoundrel," she said, working herself into a
+terrible passion.
+
+"I did not do it," said Paul, nettled at the charge, and growing red in
+the face.
+
+"You are a liar! you show your guilt in your countenance," said Miss
+Dobb.
+
+Paul's face was on fire. Never till then had he been called a liar. He
+was about to tell her loudly, that she was a meddler, tattler, and
+hypocrite, but he remembered that he had read somewhere, that "he who
+loses his temper loses his cause," and did not speak the words. He
+looked her steadily in the face, and said calmly, "I did not do it," and
+went on to his work.
+
+Weeks went by. The singing-school was drawing to a close. Paul had made
+rapid progress. His voice was round, rich, full, and clear. He no longer
+appeared at school wearing his grandfather's coat, for he had worked for
+Mr. Chrome, painting wagons, till he had earned enough to purchase a new
+suit of clothes. Besides, it was discovered that he could survey land,
+and several of the farmers employed him to run the lines between their
+farms. Mr. Rhythm took especial pains to help him on in singing, and
+before winter was through he could master the crookedest anthem in the
+book. Daphne Dare was the best alto, Hans Middlekauf the best bass, and
+Azalia the best treble. Sometimes Mr. Rhythm had the four sing a
+quartette, or Azalia and Paul sang a duet. At times, the school sang,
+while he listened. "I want you to learn to depend upon yourselves," said
+he. Then it was that Paul's voice was heard above all others, so clear
+and distinct, and each note so exact in time that they felt he was their
+leader.
+
+One evening Mr. Rhythm called Paul into the floor, and gave him the
+rattan with which he beat time, saying, "I want you to be leader in this
+tune; I resign the command to you, and you are to do just as if I were
+not here." The blood rushed to Paul's face, his knees trembled; but he
+felt that it was better to try and fail, than be a coward. He sounded
+the key, but his voice was husky and trembling. Fanny Funk, who had
+turned up her nose at Mr. Rhythm's proposition, giggled aloud, and there
+was laughing around the room. It nerved him in an instant. He opened his
+lips to shout, Silence! then he thought that they would not respect his
+authority, and would only laugh louder, which would make him appear
+ridiculous. He stood quietly and said, not in a husky voice, but calmly,
+pleasantly, and deliberately, "When the ladies have finished their
+laughter we will commence." The laughter ceased. He waited till the room
+was so still that they could hear the clock tick. "Now we will try it,"
+said he. They did not sing it right, and he made them go over it again
+and again, drilling them till they sang it so well that Mr. Rhythm and
+the spectators clapped their hands.
+
+"You will have a competent leader after I leave you," said Mr. Rhythm.
+Paul had gained this success by practice hour after hour, day after day,
+week after week, at home, till he was master of what he had undertaken.
+
+The question came up in parish meeting, whether the school should join
+the choir? Mr. Quaver and the old members opposed it, but they were
+voted down. Nothing was said about having a new chorister, for no one
+wished to hurt Mr. Quaver's feelings by appointing Paul in his place;
+but the school did not relish the idea of being led by Mr. Quaver,
+while, on the other hand, the old singers did not mean to be
+overshadowed by the young upstarts.
+
+It was an eventful Sunday in New Hope when the singing-school joined the
+choir. The church was crowded. Fathers and mothers who seldom attended
+meeting were present to see their children in the singers' seats. The
+girls were dressed in white, for it was a grand occasion. Mr. Quaver and
+the old choir were early in their places. Mr. Quaver's red nose was
+redder than ever, and he had a stern look. He took no notice of the new
+singers, who stood in the background, not daring to take their seats,
+and not knowing what to do till Paul arrived.
+
+"Where shall we sit, sir?" Paul asked, respectfully.
+
+"Anywhere back there," said Mr. Quaver.
+
+"We would like to have you assign us seats," said Paul.
+
+"I have nothing to do about it; you may sit anywhere, and sing when you
+are a mind to, or hold your tongues," said Mr. Quaver, sharply.
+
+"Very well; we will do so," said Paul, a little touched, telling the
+school to occupy the back seats. He was their acknowledged leader. He
+took his place behind Mr. Quaver, with Hans, Azalia, and Daphne near
+him. Mr. Quaver did not look round, neither did Miss Gamut, nor any of
+the old choir. They felt that the new-comers were intruders, who had no
+right there.
+
+The bell ceased its tolling, and Rev. Mr. Surplice ascended the
+pulpit-stairs. He was a venerable man. He had preached many years, and
+his long, white hair, falling upon his shoulders, seemed to crown him
+with a saintly glory. The people, old and young, honored, respected, and
+loved him; for he had grave counsel for the old, kind words for the
+young, and pleasant stories for the little ones. Everybody said that he
+was ripening for heaven. He rejoiced when he looked up into the gallery
+and saw such a goodly array of youth, beauty, and loveliness. Then,
+bowing his head in prayer, and looking onward to the eternal years, he
+seemed to see them members of a heavenly choir, clothed in white, and
+singing, "Alleluia! salvation and glory and honor and power unto the
+Lord our God!"
+
+After prayer, he read a hymn:--
+
+               "Now shall my head be lifted high
+                  Above my foes around;
+                And songs of joy and victory
+                  Within thy temple sound."
+
+There was a smile of satisfaction on Mr. Quaver's countenance while
+selecting the tune, as if he had already won a victory. There was a
+clearing of throats; then Mr. Fiddleman gave the key on the bass-viol.
+As Mr. Quaver had told Paul that the school might sing when they
+pleased, or hold their tongues, he determined to act independently of
+Mr. Quaver.
+
+"After one measure," whispered Paul. He knew they would watch his hand,
+and commence in exact time. The old choir was accustomed to sing without
+regard to time.
+
+Mr. Quaver commenced louder than usual,--twisting, turning, drawling,
+and flattening the first word as if it was spelled n-e-a-w. Miss Gamut
+and Mr. Cleff and the others dropped in one by one. Not a sound as yet
+from the school. All stood eagerly watching Paul. He cast a quick glance
+right and left. His hand moved,--down--left--right--up. They burst into
+the tune, fifty voices together. It was like the broadside of a
+fifty-gun frigate. The old choir was confounded. Miss Gamut stopped
+short. Captain Binnacle, who once was skipper of a schooner on the
+Lakes, and who owned a pew in front of the pulpit, said afterwards, that
+she was thrown on her beam-ends as if struck by a nor'wester and all her
+main-sail blown into ribbons in a jiffy. Mr. Quaver, though confused for
+a moment, recovered; Miss Gamut also righted herself. Though confounded,
+they were not yet defeated. Mr. Quaver stamped upon the floor, which
+brought Mr. Cleff to his senses. Mr. Quaver looked as if he would say,
+"Put down the upstarts!" Mr. Fiddleman played with all his might; Miss
+Gamut screamed at the top of her voice, while Mr. Cleff puffed out his
+fat cheeks and became red in the face, doing his utmost to drown them.
+
+The people looked and listened in amazement. Mr. Surplice stood
+reverently in his place. Those who sat nearest the pulpit said that
+there was a smile on his countenance.
+
+It was a strange fugue, but each held on to the end of the verse, the
+young folks getting out ahead of Mr. Quaver and his flock, and having a
+breathing spell before commencing the second stanza. So they went
+through the hymn. Then Mr. Surplice read from the Bible: "Behold how
+good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! As
+the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of
+Zion; for there the Lord commanded his blessing forevermore."
+
+Turning to the choir, he said, "My dear friends, I perceive that there
+is a want of unity in your services, as singers of the sanctuary;
+therefore, that the peace and harmony of the place may not be broken, I
+propose that, when the next psalm is given, the old members of the choir
+sing the first stanza, and the new members the second, and so through
+the hymn. By thus doing there will be no disagreement."
+
+Each one--old and young--resolved to do his best, for comparisons would
+be made. It would be the struggle for victory.
+
+"I will give them a tune which will break them down," Mr. Quaver
+whispered to Miss Gamut, as he selected one with a tenor and treble
+duet, which he and Miss Gamut had sung together a great many times.
+Louder and stronger sang Mr. Quaver. Miss Gamut cleared her throat, with
+the determination to sing as she never sang before, and to show the
+people what a great difference there was between her voice and Azalia
+Adams's. But the excitement of the moment set her heart in a flutter
+when she came to the duet, which ran up out of the scale. She aimed at
+high G, but instead of striking it in a round full tone, as she intended
+and expected, she only made a faint squeak on F, which sounded so funny
+that the people down stairs smiled in spite of their efforts to keep
+sober. Her breath was gone. She sank upon her seat, covered her face
+with her hands, mortified and ashamed. Poor Miss Gamut! But there was a
+sweet girl behind her who pitied her very much, and who felt like
+crying, so quick was her sympathy for all in trouble and sorrow.
+
+Mr. Quaver was provoked. Never was his nose so red and fiery. Determined
+not to be broken down, he carried the verse through, ending with a roar,
+as if to say, "I am not defeated."
+
+The young folks now had their turn. There was a measure of time, the
+exact movement, the clear chord, swelling into full chorus, then
+becoming fainter, till it seemed like the murmuring of voices far away.
+How charming the duet! Where Mr. Quaver blared like a trumpet, Paul sang
+in clear, melodious notes; and where Miss Gamut broke down, Azalia
+glided so smoothly and sweetly that every heart was thrilled. Then, when
+all joined in the closing strain, the music rolled in majesty along the
+roof, encircled the pulpit, went down the winding stairs, swept along
+the aisles, entered the pews, and delighted the congregation. Miss Gamut
+still continued to sit with her hands over her face. Mr. Quaver nudged
+her to try another verse, but she shook her head. Paul waited for Mr.
+Quaver, who was very red in the face, and who felt that it was of no use
+to try again without Miss Gamut. He waved his hand to Paul as a signal
+to go on. The victory was won. Through the sermon Mr. Quaver thought the
+matter over. He felt very uncomfortable, but at noon he shook hands with
+Paul, and said, "I resign my place to you. I have been chorister for
+thirty years, and have had my day." He made the best of his defeat, and
+in the afternoon, with all the old singers, sat down stairs.
+
+Judge Adams bowed to Paul very cordially at the close of the service.
+Colonel Dare shook hands with him, and Rev. Mr. Surplice, with a
+pleasant smile, said, "May the Lord be with you." It was spoken so
+kindly and heartily, and was so like a benediction, that the tears came
+to Paul's eyes; for he felt that he was unworthy of such kindness.
+
+There was one person in the congregation who looked savagely at
+him,--Miss Dobb. "It is a shame," she said, when the people came out of
+church, speaking loud enough to be heard by all, "that such a young
+upstart and hypocrite should be allowed to worm himself into Mr.
+Quaver's seat." She hated Paul, and determined to put him down if
+possible.
+
+Paul went home from church pleased that the school had done so well, and
+grateful for all the kind words he heard; but as he retired for the
+night, and thought over what had taken place,--when he realized that he
+was the leader of the choir, and that singing was a part of divine
+worship,--when he considered that he had fifty young folks to
+direct--and that it would require a steady hand to keep them straight,
+he felt very sober. As these thoughts, one by one, came crowding upon
+him, he felt that he could not bear so great a responsibility. Then he
+reflected that life is made up of responsibilities, and that it was his
+duty to meet them manfully. If he cringed before, or shrank from them,
+and gave them the go-by, he would be a coward, and never would
+accomplish anything. No one would respect him, and he would not even
+have any respect for himself. "I won't back out!" he said, resolving to
+do the best he could.
+
+Very pleasant were the days. Spring had come with its sunshine and
+flowers. The birds were in their old haunts,--the larks in the meadows,
+the partridges in the woods, the quails in the fields. Paul was as happy
+as they, singing from morning till night the tunes he had learned; and
+when his day's work was over, he was never too wearied to call upon
+Daphne with Azalia, and sing till the last glimmer of daylight faded
+from the west,--Azalia playing the piano, and their voices mingling in
+perfect harmony. How pleasant the still hours with Azalia beneath the
+old elms, which spread out their arms above them, as if to pronounce a
+benediction,--the moonlight smiling around them,--the dews perfuming the
+air with the sweet odors of roses and apple-blooms,--the cricket
+chirping his love-song to his mate,--the river forever flowing, and
+sweetly chanting its endless melody!
+
+Sometimes they lingered by the way, and laughed to hear the grand chorus
+of bull-frogs croaking among the rushes of the river, and the echoes of
+their own voices dying away in the distant forest. And then, standing in
+the gravelled walk before the door of Azalia's home, where the flowers
+bloomed around them, they looked up to the stars, shining so far away,
+and talked of choirs of angels, and of those who had gone from earth to
+heaven, and were singing the song of the Redeemed. How bright the days!
+how blissful the nights!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE NIGHT-HAWKS.
+
+
+Mr. Shell was proprietor of the New Hope Oyster Saloon. He got up nice
+game suppers, and treated his customers to ale, whiskey, and brandy.
+Philip loved good living, and often ate an oyster-stew and a broiled
+quail, and washed it down with a glass of ale, late at night in Mr.
+Shell's rooms, in company with three or four other boys. After supper
+they had cigars and a game of cards, till midnight, when Mr. Shell put
+out his lights and closed his doors, often interrupting them in the
+middle of a game. That was not agreeable, and so the young gentlemen
+hired a room over the saloon, fitted it up with tables and chairs, and
+organized a club, calling themselves "Night-Hawks." Philip was the chief
+hawk. They met nearly every evening. No one could get into their room
+without giving a signal to those within, and they had a secret sign by
+which they knew each other in the dark.
+
+At first they enjoyed themselves, playing cards, smoking cigars,
+drinking ale, sipping hot whiskey punch, and telling stories; but in a
+short time the stories were not worth laughing at, the games of cards
+were the same thing over and over, and they wanted something more
+exciting.
+
+It was the fall of the year. There was rich fruit in the orchards and
+gardens of New Hope, russet and crimson-cheeked apples, golden-hued
+pears, luscious grapes purpling in the October sun, and juicy melons.
+The bee-hives were heavy with honey, and the bees were still at work,
+gathering new sweets from the late blooming flowers. Many baskets of
+ripe apples and choicest pears, many a bunch of grapes, with melons,
+found their way up the narrow stairs to the room of the Night-Hawks.
+There was a pleasing excitement in gathering the apples and pears under
+the windows of the unsuspecting people fast asleep, or in plucking the
+grapes from garden trellises at midnight. But people began to keep
+watch.
+
+"We must throw them off our track. I'll make them think that Paul does
+it," said Philip to himself one day. He had not forgotten the night of
+Daphne's party,--how Paul had won a victory and he had suffered defeat.
+Paul was respected; he was the leader of the choir, and was getting on
+in the world. "I'll fix him!" said he.
+
+The next morning, when Mr. Leatherby kindled the fire in his shoe-shop,
+he found that the stove would not draw. The smoke, instead of going up
+the funnel, poured into the room, and the fire, instead of roaring and
+blazing, smouldered a few moments and finally died out. He kindled it
+again, opened the windows to let in the air, but it would not burn. He
+got down on his knees and blew till he was out of breath, got his eyes
+filled with smoke, which made the tears roll down his cheeks. The shop
+was a mere box of a building, with a low roof; so he climbed up and
+looked into the chimney and found it stuffed with newspapers. Pulling
+them out, he saw a crumpled piece of writing-paper. He smoothed it out.
+"Ah! what is this?" said he; and, putting on his spectacles, he read,
+"North 69° East, 140 rods to a stake; South 87° West, 50 rods to an
+oak-tree."
+
+"That is Paul Parker's figuring, I reckon. I always knew that Paul loved
+fun, but I didn't think he would do this!" said Mr. Leatherby to
+himself, more in sorrow than in anger.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Leatherby," said Philip, coming up at that moment.
+"What is the matter with your chimney?"
+
+"Some of you boys have been playing a trick upon me."
+
+"Who, I should like to know, is there in New Hope mean enough to do
+that?" Philip asked.
+
+"Whose figuring do you call that?" Mr. Leatherby asked, presenting the
+paper.
+
+"Paul Parker's, as sure as I am alive! You ought to expose him, Mr.
+Leatherby."
+
+"I don't like to say anything against him. I always liked him; but I
+didn't think he would cut up such a shine as this," Mr. Leatherby
+replied.
+
+"Appearances are deceptive. It won't do for me to say anything against
+Paul, for people might say I was envious; but if I were you, Mr.
+Leatherby, I'd put him over the road," said Philip, walking on.
+
+Mr. Leatherby thought the matter over all day, as he sat in his dingy
+shop, which was only a few rods from Mr. Chrome's, where Paul was
+painting wagons, singing snatches of songs, and psalms and hymns. Mr.
+Leatherby loved to hear him. It made the days seem shorter. It rested
+him when he was tired, cheered him when he was discouraged. It was like
+sunshine in his soul, for it made him happy. Thinking it over, and
+hearing Paul's voice so round, clear, full, and sweet, he couldn't make
+up his mind to tell anybody of the little joke. "After all, he didn't
+mean anything in particular, only to have a little fun with me. Boys
+will be boys,"--and so Mr. Leatherby, kind old man that he was,
+determined to keep it all to himself.
+
+When Paul passed by the shop on his way home at night, he said, "Good
+evening, Mr. Leatherby," so pleasantly and kindly, that Mr. Leatherby
+half made up his mind that it wasn't Paul who did it, after all, but
+some of the other boys,--Bob Swift, perhaps, a sly, cunning, crafty
+fellow, who was one of Philip's cronies. "It would be just like Bob, but
+not at all like Paul, and so I won't say anything to anybody," said the
+mild old man to himself.
+
+Miss Dobb's shaggy little poodle came out, barking furiously at Paul as
+he passed down the street. Paul gave him a kick which sent him howling
+towards the house, saying, "Get out, you ugly puppy!" Miss Dobb heard
+him. She came to the door and clasped the poodle to her bosom, saying,
+"Poor dear Trippee! Did the bad fellow hurt the dear little Trippee?"
+Then she looked savagely at Paul, and as she put out her hand to close
+the door, she seemed to clutch at Paul with her long, bony fingers, as
+if to get hold of him and give him a shaking.
+
+Trip wasn't hurt much, for he was out again in a few minutes, snapping
+and snarling at all passers-by. Just at dark he was missing. Miss Dobb
+went to the door and called, "Trip! Trip! Trip!" but he did not come at
+her call. She looked up and down the street, but could not see him. The
+evening passed away. She went to the door many times and called; she
+went to Mr. Shelbarke's and to Mr. Noggin's, but no one had seen Trip.
+She went to bed wondering what had become of him, and fearing that
+somebody had killed or stolen him.
+
+But in the night she heard him whining at the door. She opened it
+joyfully. "Where have you been, you dear little good-for-nothing darling
+Trip?" she said, kissing him, finding, as she did so, that all his hair
+had been sheared off, except a tuft on the end of his tail. She was so
+angry that she could not refrain from shedding tears. The puppy
+shivered, trembled, and whined in the cold, and Miss Dobb was obliged
+to sew him up in flannel. He looked so funny in his coat, with the tuft
+of hair waving on the end of his tail, that Miss Dobb laughed
+notwithstanding her anger. In the morning she went out to tell her
+neighbors what had happened, and met Philip.
+
+"Good morning. I hope you are well, Miss Dobb," he said politely.
+
+"Yes, I am well, only I am so vexed that I don't know what to do."
+
+"Indeed! What has happened?"
+
+"Why, somebody has sheared all of Trip's hair off, except a tuft on the
+end of his tail, which looks like a swab. It is an outrageous insult,
+for Trip had a beautiful tail. I would pull every hair out of the
+villain's head, if I knew who did it."
+
+"Who was it that kicked your dog last night, and called him an ugly
+puppy?" Philip asked.
+
+Miss Dobb remembered who, and her eyes flashed. Philip walked on, and
+came across Bob Swift, who had been standing round the corner of Mr.
+Noggin's shop, listening to all that was said. They laughed at
+something, then stopped and looked at Mr. Noggin's bees, which were
+buzzing and humming merrily in the bright October sun.
+
+That night Mr. Noggin heard a noise in his yard. Springing out of bed
+and going to the window, he saw that a thief was taking the boxes of
+honey from his patent hives. He opened the door and shouted, "Thief!
+Thief!" The robber ran. In the morning Mr. Noggin found that the thief
+had dropped his hat in his haste. He picked it up. "Aha! 'Pears to me I
+have seen this hat before. Paul Parker's, as sure as I am alive!" he
+said. It was the hat which Paul wore in Mr. Chrome's paint-shop.
+Everybody knew it, because it was daubed and spattered with paint.
+
+Mr. Noggin went to his work. He was a well-meaning man, but
+shallow-brained. He knew how to make good barrels, tubs, and buckets,
+but had no mind of his own. He put on his leather apron, and commenced
+driving the hoops upon a barrel, pounding with his adze, singing, and
+making the barrel ring with
+
+               "Cooper ding, cooper ding, cooper ding, ding, ding!
+                Cooper ding, cooper ding, cooper ding, ding, ding!
+                       Cooper ding, job, job,
+                       Cooper ding, bob, bob,
+                       Heigh ho,--ding, ding, ding!"
+
+Mr. Noggin was rattling on in that fashion when Miss Dobb, followed by
+Trip, entered the shop.
+
+"Well, I declare! That is the first time I ever saw a pup with a shirt
+on," said Mr. Noggin, stopping and looking at the poodle sewed up in
+flannel. "That is Paul Parker's doings,--I mean the shearing," said Miss
+Dobb, her eyes flashing indignantly.
+
+"Paul's work! O ho! Then he shears pups besides robbing bee-hives, does
+he?" said Mr. Noggin. He told Miss Dobb what had happened.
+
+"It is your duty, Mr. Noggin, to have him arrested at once. You are
+under imperative obligations to the community as a law and order abiding
+citizen to put the sheriff upon his track. He is a hypocrite. He ought
+to be pitched out of the singing-seats head first." So Miss Dobb wound
+Mr. Noggin round her finger, and induced him to enter a complaint
+against Paul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+PAUL'S FRIENDS.
+
+
+For five months Paul had been leader of the choir, and so faithfully
+were his duties performed, so excellent his drill, and so good his taste
+and mature his judgment, so completely were the choir under his control,
+that the ministers from the surrounding parishes, when they exchanged
+with Rev. Mr. Surplice, said, "What glorious singing they have at New
+Hope!" It was so good, that people who never had been in the habit of
+attending church hired pews,--not that they cared to hear Mr. Surplice
+preach and pray, but it was worth while to hear Azalia Adams and Daphne
+Dare sing a quartette with Paul and Hans, and the whole choir joining in
+perfect time and in sweetest harmony.
+
+Paul believed that a thing worth doing at all was worth doing well. His
+heart was in his work. It was a pleasure to sing. He loved music because
+it made him happy, and he felt also that he and Azalia and Daphne and
+all the choir were a power for good in the community to make men
+better. Farmer Harrow, who used to work at haying on Sunday, said it was
+worth a bushel of turnips any time to hear such sweet singing. So his
+hired man and horses had rest one day in seven, and he became a better
+man.
+
+In the calm moonlight nights Paul often lay wide awake, hour after hour,
+listening with rapture to the sweet music which came to him from the
+distant woods, from the waterfall, from the old maple in front of the
+house, when the leaves, tinged with gorgeous hues, were breaking one by
+one from the twigs, and floating to the ground, from the crickets
+chirping the last lone songs of the dying year, and from the robins and
+sparrows still hovering around their summer haunts. It was sweet to
+think of the pleasant hours he had passed with Azalia and Daphne, and
+with all the choir; and then it was very pleasant to look into the
+future, and imagine what bliss there might be in store for him;--a
+better home for his mother in her declining years,--a better life for
+himself. He would be a good citizen, respected and beloved. He would be
+kind to all. He wished that all the world might be good and happy. When
+he became a man, he would try and make people good. If everybody was as
+good as Azalia, what a glorious world it would be! She was always good,
+always cheerful. She had a smile for everybody. Her life was as warm and
+sunny and golden as the October days, and as calm and peaceful as the
+moonlight streaming across his chamber. Sweet it was to think of
+her,--sweeter to see her; sweetest of all to stand by her side and unite
+his voice to hers, and feel in his soul the charm of her presence. In
+his dreams he sometimes heard her and sat by her side.
+
+Sometimes, while thus lying awake, watching the stars as they went
+sailing down the western sky, his thoughts went beyond the present into
+the unseen future, whither his father and grandfather had gone. They
+sang when on earth, and he thought of them as singing in heaven.
+Sometimes he gazed so long and steadily toward the heavenly land, that
+his eyes became dim with tears, so sweet and yet so sad the sounds he
+seemed to hear,--so near and yet so far away that land.
+
+So the days went by, and the calm and peaceful nights, bringing him to
+October,--the glorious harvest month.
+
+And now suddenly people looked shyly at him. There were mysterious
+whisperings and averted faces. He met Squire Capias one morning on the
+street. "Good morning," said Paul; but the lawyer walked on without
+reply. He passed Miss Dobb's house. She sat by the front window, and
+glared at him savagely; and yet she seemed to smile, but her countenance
+was so thin, wrinkled, and sharp, and her eyes so fierce, her smile so
+fiendish, that it put him in mind of a picture he once saw in a horrible
+story-book, which told of a witch that carried off little children and
+ate them for breakfast. Paul thought that Miss Dobb would like to pick
+his bones. But he went on to his work, rejoicing that there were not
+many Miss Dobbs in the world.
+
+While hard at it with his paint-brush, Mr. Ketchum entered. He was a
+tall, stout man, with black, bushy whiskers, and so strong that he could
+take a barrel of cider on his knees and drink out of the bunghole. He
+was a sheriff. The rowdies who fell into his hands said it was no use to
+try to resist Mr. Ketchum, for he once seized a stubborn fellow by the
+heels, and swung him round as he would a cat by the tail, till the
+fellow lost his breath and was frightened half out of his wits.
+
+"I have called in to ask you to walk up to Judge Adams's office on a
+matter of business," said Mr. Ketchum.
+
+"With pleasure, sir," said Paul, who, now that he had become a surveyor
+of land, had been called upon repeatedly to give his testimony in court.
+
+They entered Judge Adams's office, which was crowded with people. Mr.
+Noggin, Miss Dobb, Philip, and Bob Swift were there. A buzz ran round
+the room. They all looked upon Paul.
+
+"You have been arrested, Paul, and are charged with stealing honey from
+Mr. Noggin's bee-hives. Are you guilty or not guilty?" said Judge Adams.
+
+"Arrested!--arrested for stealing!"--Paul exclaimed, stupefied and
+astounded at the words of the judge. It was like a lightning-stroke. His
+knees became weak. He felt sick at heart. Great drops of cold and clammy
+sweat stood upon his forehead. Arrested! What would his mother say? Her
+son accused of stealing! What would everybody say? What would Azalia
+think? What would Rev. Mr. Surplice say? What would his class of boys in
+the Sunday-school say, not about him, but about truth and honor and
+religion, when they heard that their teacher was arrested for stealing?
+
+His throat became dry, his tongue was parched. His voice suddenly grew
+husky. His brain reeled. His heart one moment stood still, then leaped
+in angry throbs, as if ready to burst. He trembled as if attacked by
+sudden ague, then a hot flash went over him, burning up his brain,
+scorching his heart, and withering his life.
+
+"What say you, are you guilty or not guilty?"
+
+"I am innocent," said Paul, gasping for breath, and sinking into his
+seat, taking no notice of what was going on around him. He was busy with
+the future. He saw all his hopes of life dead in an instant,--killed by
+one flash. He knew that he was innocent, but he was accused of crime,
+arrested, and a prisoner. The world would have it that he was guilty.
+His good name was gone forever. His hopes were blighted, his aspirations
+destroyed, his dreams of future joy,--all had passed away. His mother
+would die of a broken heart. Henceforth those with whom he had
+associated would shun him. For him there was no more peace, joy, or
+comfort,--nothing but impenetrable darkness and agony in the future. So
+overwhelmed was he, that he took no notice of Mr. Noggin's testimony, or
+of what was done, till he heard Judge Adams say: "There are some
+circumstances against the accused, but the testimony is not sufficient
+to warrant my binding him over for trial. He is discharged."
+
+Paul went out into the fresh air, like one just waking from sleep,
+numbed and stupefied. The words of the judge rang in his
+ears,--"Circumstances against the accused." The accused! The prisoner!
+He had been a prisoner. All the world would know of it, but would not
+know that he was innocent. How could he bear it? It was a crushing
+agony. Then there came to him the words of the psalm sung on Sunday,--
+
+               "My times are in thy hand,
+                  Why should I doubt or fear?
+                My Father's hand will never cause
+                  His child a needless tear."
+
+So he was comforted in the thought that it was for his good; but he
+couldn't see how. He resolved to bear it manfully, conscious of his
+innocence, and trusting in God that he would vindicate his honor.
+
+He went home and told his mother all that had happened. He was surprised
+to find that it did not shock her, as he supposed it would.
+
+"I know you are innocent, Paul," she said, kissing him. "I am not
+surprised at what has happened. You are the victim of a conspiracy. I
+have been expecting that something would befall you, for you have been
+highly prospered, and prosperity brings enemies. It will all come out
+right in the end." Thus his mother soothed him, and tried to lift the
+great weight from his heart.
+
+He was innocent, but half of the community thought him guilty. "He did
+it,--he did it,"--said Miss Dobb to all her neighbors. What should he
+do? How could he establish his innocence? How remove all suspicion?
+Ought he to resign his position as leader of the choir? or should he
+retain it? But the committee of the society settled that. "After what
+has happened, you will see the propriety of giving up your position as
+leader of the choir," said they. "Also your class in the Sunday-school,"
+said the Superintendent.
+
+O, how crushing it was! He was an outcast,--a vile, miserable wretch,--a
+hypocrite,--a mean, good-for-nothing fellow,--a scoundrel,--a thief,--a
+robber,--in the estimation of those who had respected him. They did not
+speak to him on the street. Colonel Dare, who usually had a pleasant
+word, did not notice him. He met Daphne Dare, but she crossed the street
+to avoid him. How terrible the days! How horrible the nights! He tossed
+and tumbled, and turned upon his bed. There was a fire in his bones. His
+flesh was hot. His brain was like a smouldering furnace. If he dropped
+off to sleep, it was but for a moment, and he awoke with a start, to
+feel the heat burning up his soul with its slow, consuming flame.
+
+At evening twilight he wandered by the river-side to cool his fever,
+dipping his hand into the stream and bathing his brow. He stood upon the
+bridge and looked over the railing into the surging waters. A horrible
+thought came over him. Why not jump in and let the swollen current bear
+him away? What use was it to live, with his good name gone, and all the
+future a blank? He banished the thought. He would live on and trust in
+God.
+
+He heard a step upon the bridge, and, looking up, beheld Azalia. She had
+been out gathering the faded leaves of autumn, and late-blossoming
+flowers, in the woods beyond the river. "Will she speak to me?" was the
+question which rose in his mind. His heart stood still in that moment of
+suspense. She came towards him, held out her hand, and said, "Good
+evening, Paul."
+
+"Then you do not turn away from me?"
+
+"No, Paul, I don't believe that you are a thief."
+
+Tears came to his eyes as he took her proffered hand,--tears which
+welled up from his heart and which saved it from bursting. "O Azalia, if
+you had turned from me, I should have died! I have suffered terrible
+agony, but I can live now. I am innocent."
+
+"I believe you, Paul, and I shall still be as I have been, your friend.
+There is my pledge," she said, setting down her basket, and putting a
+frost-flower into a button-hole of his threadbare coat. Then, to make
+him forget that the world was looking coldly upon him, she showed him
+the flowers she had gathered, and the gorgeous maple leaves,--scarlet,
+orange, purple, and crimson, and talked of their marvellous beauty. And
+when, with a smile, she said "Good night," and went tripping homeward,
+his heart was so full of gratitude that he could not utter his thanks.
+He could only say in his heart, "God bless her." It was as if he had met
+an angel in the way, and had been blessed. He stood there while the
+twilight deepened, and felt his heart grow strong again. He went home.
+His mother saw by the deep-settled determination on his face, by his
+calmness, and by his sad smile, that he was not utterly broken down and
+overwhelmed by the trouble which, like a wave of the sea, had rolled
+upon him.
+
+"There is one who does not pass me by; Azalia is still a friend," he
+said.
+
+"There are several whom you may count upon as being still your friends,"
+she replied.
+
+"Who are they, mother?"
+
+"God and the angels, my son."
+
+So she comforted him, telling him that the best way to put down a lie
+was to live it down, and that the time would surely come when his honor
+and integrity would be vindicated.
+
+When they kneeled together to offer their evening prayer, and when his
+mother asked that the affliction might work out for him an eternal
+weight of glory, he resolved that he would, with God's help, live down
+the lie, and wait patiently, bearing the ignominy and shame and the
+cold looks of those who had been his friends, till his character for
+truth and honesty was re-established. He was calm and peaceful now. Once
+more he heard sweet music as he lay upon his bed. Through the night the
+winds, the waterfall, the crickets, seemed to be saying with Azalia, "We
+are still your friends,--still your friends--your friends--your
+friends!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+IN A TRAP.
+
+
+A kind word, a look, a smile, a warm grasp of the hand by a friend in
+time of trouble,--how they remain in memory! Sometimes they are like
+ropes thrown to drowning men. The meeting between Paul and Azalia upon
+the bridge was a turning point in his life. He felt, when he saw her
+approaching, that, if she passed him by, looking upon him as a vile
+outcast from society, he might as well give up a contest where
+everything was against him. He loved truth and honor for their own sake.
+He remembered the words of his grandfather, that truth and honor are
+better than anything else in the world. Many a night he had heard the
+winds repeating those words as they whistled through the cracks and
+crevices of his chamber, rattling the shingles upon the roof, saying
+over and over and over again, Truth and honor, truth and honor. He had
+tried to be true, honest, and manly, not only to make himself better,
+but to help everybody else who had a hard time in life; but if Rev. Mr.
+Surplice, Judge Adams, Colonel Dare, and all the good folks looked upon
+him as a thief, what was the use of trying to rise? There was one who
+was still his friend. Her sweet, sad smile followed him. He saw it all
+the time, by day and by night, while awake and while asleep. He felt the
+warm, soft touch of her hand, and heard her words. He remembered that
+God is always on the side of truth, and so he resolved to go right on as
+if nothing had happened, and live down the accusation.
+
+But he couldn't go on. "After what has happened, it is expedient that
+you should leave the choir till your innocence is established," said
+Deacon Hardhack, who was chairman of the singing committee,--a good,
+well-meaning man, who was very zealous for maintaining what he
+considered to be the faith once delivered to the saints. He carried on
+an iron foundery, and people sometimes called him a cast-iron man. He
+believed, that it was the duty of everybody to do exactly right; if they
+did wrong, or if they were suspected of doing wrong, they must take the
+consequences. Miss Dobb told him that Paul ought to be pitched out of
+the choir. "I think so too, Miss Dobb," said the Deacon, and it was
+done.
+
+It required a great bracing of Paul's nerves, on Sunday morning, to go
+to church, and take a seat in the pew down stairs, with every eye upon
+him; but he did it manfully.
+
+The bell ceased tolling. It was time for services to commence, but there
+was no choir. The singers' seats were empty. Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and
+all the others, were down stairs. Mr. Surplice waited awhile, then read
+the hymn; but there was a dead silence,--no turning of leaves, no
+blending of sweet voices, no soul-thrilling strains, such as had
+reformed Farmer Harrow, and given rest to his horses one day in seven.
+People looked at the singers' seats, then at Paul, then at each other.
+The silence became awkward. Deacon Hardhack was much exercised in mind.
+He had been very zealous in committee meeting for having Paul sent down
+stairs, but he had not looked forward to see what effect it would have
+upon the choir. Mr. Cannel, who owned a coal-mine, sat in front of Paul.
+He was not on good terms with Deacon Hardhack, for they once had a
+falling out on business matters, and so whatever the Deacon attempted
+to do in society affairs was opposed by Mr. Cannel. They were both
+members of the singing committee, and had a stormy time on Saturday
+evening. Mr. Cannel did what he could to keep Paul in the choir, but the
+Deacon had carried the day.
+
+"I'll triumph yet," was the thought which flashed through Mr. Cannel's
+mind, when he saw how matters stood. He turned and nodded to Paul to
+strike up a tune, but Paul took no notice of him. Mr. Cannel half rose
+from his seat, and whispered hoarsely, "Strike up a tune, Paul." All the
+congregation saw him. Paul made no movement, but sat perfectly still,
+not even looking towards Mr. Cannel. Deacon Hardhack saw what Mr. Cannel
+was up to, and resolved to head him off. He rose from his seat, and said
+aloud, "Brother Quaver, will you pitch a tune?"
+
+Again, as in other days, Mr. Quaver rubbed his great red nose, as
+trumpeters wipe their instruments before giving a blast. Then, after a
+loud Ahem! which made the church ring, he began to sing. It was so
+strange a sound, so queer, so unlike the sweet music which had charmed
+the congregation through the summer, that there was smiling all over
+the church. His voice trembled and rattled, and sounded so funny that a
+little boy laughed aloud, which disconcerted him, and he came near
+breaking down. Miss Gamut sat in one corner of the church, many pews
+from Mr. Quaver. She attempted to join, but was so far away that she
+felt, as she afterwards remarked, like a cat in a strange garret. Paul
+did not sing. He thought that, if it was an offence for him to sing in
+the choir, it would be equally offensive to sing in the congregation.
+Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and all the members of the choir, who were sitting
+in the pews with their parents, were silent. They had talked the matter
+over before church.
+
+"Paul is innocent; he has only been accused. It isn't right to condemn
+him, or turn from him, till we know he is not worthy of our confidence.
+I met him on the bridge last night, and he looked as if he hadn't a
+friend in the world. I shall stand by him," said Azalia.
+
+"Deacon Hardhack and Miss Dobb mean to break down the choir. It is a
+conspiracy," said Hans, who felt that Paul's case was his own.
+
+Daphne began to look at the matter in a new light, and felt ashamed of
+herself for having passed by Paul without noticing him.
+
+After service there was a great deal of loud talking.
+
+"If that is the kind of singing you are going to have, I'll stay at
+home," said Farmer Harrow.
+
+"It would be a desecration of the sanctuary, and we should be the aiders
+and abettors of sin and iniquity, if we allowed a fellow who has been
+accused of stealing to lead the singing," said Deacon Hardhack to Mr.
+Cannel.
+
+"Let him that is without sin among you cast the first stone," was Mr.
+Cannel's reply, and he felt that he had given the Deacon a good hit.
+
+"Paul hasn't had his deserts by a long chalk," said Miss Dobb.
+
+"He has been treated shamefully," said Azalia, indignantly.
+
+All took sides, some for Paul, and some against him. Old things, which
+had no connection with the matter, were raked up. Mr. Cannel twitted
+Deacon Hardback of cheating him, while on the other hand the Deacon
+accused Mr. Cannel of giving false weight in selling coal. The peace
+and harmony of the church and society were disturbed.
+
+Mr. Quaver felt very sore over that laugh which the little boy had
+started. He knew his voice was cracked, and that his singing days were
+over. "I am not going to make a fool of myself, to be laughed at," he
+said, and made up his mind that he wouldn't sing another note to please
+the Deacon or anybody else.
+
+In the afternoon Mr. Quaver's seat was empty. Mr. Surplice read a hymn
+and waited for some one to begin. Mr. Cannel once more nodded to Paul,
+but Paul took no notice of it, and so there was no singing. A very dull
+service it was. After the benediction, Mr. Cannel, Colonel Dare, and
+Judge Adams said to Paul, "We hope you will lead the singing next
+Sunday."
+
+"Gentlemen, I have been requested by the chairman of the committee to
+leave the choir. When he invites me to return I will take the matter
+into consideration; till then I shall take no part in the singing,"--he
+replied, calmly and decidedly.
+
+Through the week Paul went on with his business, working and studying,
+bringing all his will and energy into action; for he resolved that he
+would not let what had taken place break him down.
+
+Mr. Noggin believed him guilty. "He will steal your grapes, Mr.
+Leatherby, if you don't look out," he said to the shoemaker, who had a
+luxuriant vine in his garden, which was so full of ripe clusters that
+people's mouths watered when they saw them purpling in the October sun.
+
+Mr. Leatherby concluded to keep his eyes open,--also to set a trap. He
+waited till evening, that no one might see what he was about. His garden
+was a warm, sunny spot, upon a hillside. A large butternut-tree, with
+wide-spreading branches, gave support to the vine. Mr. Leatherby filled
+a hogshead with stones, headed it up, rolled it to the spot, and tilted
+it so nicely that a slight jar would send it rolling down the hill. Then
+fastening one end of a rope to the hogshead, he threw the other end over
+a branch of the tree, brought it down to the ground, and made a noose.
+Then, taking a board, he put one end upon the hogshead and rested the
+other end on the ground, where he had placed the noose. He expected that
+whoever came after the grapes would walk up the board to reach the great
+clusters which hung overhead, that the hogshead would begin to roll,
+the board would drop, the noose draw, and the thief would find himself
+dangling by the heels. It was admirably contrived. About midnight Mr.
+Leatherby heard the board drop. "I've got him!" he shouted, springing
+out of bed, alarming Mrs. Leatherby, who thought he was crazy. He had
+not told her of the trap.
+
+"Got whom? Got what?" she exclaimed, wondering what he meant.
+
+"Paul Parker, who has come to steal the grapes," he said, as he put on
+his clothes.
+
+He went out, and found that it was not Paul, but Bob Swift, who was
+dangling, head downwards. The noose had caught him by one leg. A very
+laughable appearance he made, as he kicked and swung his arms, and
+swayed to and fro, vainly struggling to get away.
+
+"So you are the thief, are you? How do you like being hung up by the
+heels? Are the grapes sweet or sour?" Mr. Leatherby asked, not offering
+to relieve him.
+
+"Please let me go, sir. I won't do so again," said Bob, whining.
+
+"It won't hurt you to hang awhile, I reckon," Mr. Leatherby replied,
+going into the house and telling Mrs. Leatherby what had happened, then
+calling up Mr. Shelbarke, who lived near by, and also Mr. Noggin.
+
+"I reckon that this isn't your first trick, Bob," said Mr. Leatherby,
+when he returned with his neighbors. He liked Paul, and had been loath
+to believe that he was guilty of stealing. "It is you who have been
+playing tricks all along. Come now, own up," he added.
+
+"It ain't me, it is Philip,--he told me to come," said Bob, who was
+thoroughly cowed by the appearance of Mr. Noggin and the others, and who
+feared that he would be harshly dealt with.
+
+"O ho! Philip Funk is at the bottom, is he?" Mr. Leatherby exclaimed,
+remembering how Philip suggested that it was Paul who had stuffed his
+chimney with old paper.
+
+"If you will let me down, I will tell you all," said Bob, groaning with
+pain from the cord cutting into his ankle.
+
+"We will hear your confession before we let you down," said Mr.
+Leatherby.
+
+Bob begged, and whined, but to no purpose, till he told them all about
+the Night-Hawks,--that Philip set them on, and that Paul did not take
+Mr. Noggin's honey, nor smoke out Mr. Leatherby. It was Philip who
+sheared Miss Dobb's puppy, who took Mr. Shelbarke's watermelons, and
+robbed Deacon Hardhack's hen-roost. When Bob had told all, they let him
+go. He went off limping, but very glad that he was free.
+
+In the morning Mr. Leatherby and Mr. Noggin reported what had happened;
+but Philip put on a bold face, and said that Bob was a liar, and that
+there wasn't a word of truth in what he had said. The fact that he was
+caught stealing Mr. Leatherby's grapes showed that he was a fellow not
+to be believed; for if he was mean enough to steal, he would not
+hesitate to lie.
+
+Deacon Hardhack called upon Paul. "I have been requested by the
+committee to call and see you. They wish you to take charge of the
+singing again," he said, with some confusion of manner; and added,
+"Perhaps we were hasty in the matter when we asked you to sit down
+stairs, but we are willing to let bygones be bygones."
+
+"Am I to understand that there is no suspicion against me?" Paul asked.
+
+"Yes--sir--I suppose so," said the Deacon, slowly and hesitatingly.
+
+"Then you may say to the committee that I will do what I can to make the
+singing acceptable as a part of the service," Paul replied.
+
+There was a hearty shaking of hands with Paul, by all the choir, at the
+rehearsal on Saturday night. They were glad to meet him once more, and
+when they looked upon his frank, open countenance, those who for a
+moment had distrusted him felt that they had done him a great wrong. And
+on Sunday morning how sweet the music! It thrilled the hearts of the
+people, and they too were ashamed when they reflected that they had
+condemned Paul without cause. They were glad he was in his place once
+more. Mr. Surplice in his prayer gave thanks that the peace and harmony
+of the congregation was restored, and that the wicked one had not been
+permitted to rule. When he said that, Mr. Cannel wondered if he had
+reference to Deacon Hardhack. Everybody rejoiced that the matter was
+settled,--even Miss Dobb, who did not care to have all the old things
+brought up.
+
+When the service was over, when Paul sat once more by his mother's side
+in their humble home, before the old fireplace, when he listened to her
+words, reminding him of all God's goodness,--how He had carried him
+through the trial,--Paul could not keep back his tears, and he resolved
+that he would always put his trust in God.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+KEEPING SCHOOL.
+
+
+The teacher of the New Hope school, engaged for the winter, proved to be
+a poor stick. He allowed the scholars to throw spit-balls, snap
+apple-seeds, eat molasses candy, pull each other's hair, and have fine
+frolics. Paul wished very much to attend school, to study Latin, and fit
+himself for College; but when he saw how forceless a fellow Mr. Supple
+was, he concluded that it would be lost time to attend such a school. He
+knew that knowledge is power, and he longed to obtain a thorough
+education. Sometimes, when he thought how much Judge Adams knew, and
+when he read books written by learned men, he felt that he knew next to
+nothing. But whenever he felt like giving up the contest with adverse
+circumstances, a walk in the fresh, cool, bracing air, or a night's
+sleep, revived his flagging spirit. The thought often came, "What would
+Daphne or Azalia say if they knew how chicken-hearted I am?" So his
+pride gave him strength. Though he did not attend school, he made rapid
+progress studying at home.
+
+Matters came to a crisis in the school, for one day the big boys--Bob
+Swift among others--carried Mr. Supple out of the school-house, dug a
+hole in a snow-drift, and stuck him into it with his head down and his
+heels up. Then they took possession of the school-house and played tag
+over the benches for the rest of the day. Mr. Supple did not attempt to
+enter the school-house again, but picked up his hat, went to his
+boarding-house, packed his trunk, and left town.
+
+After a week's vacation, Mr. Cannel, who was the school-agent, obtained
+another teacher,--a thin, pale-faced, quick-tempered young man,--Mr.
+Thrasher. "I'll bring them to their trumps," he said, when Mr. Cannel
+engaged him.
+
+"I intend to have order in this school. I shall lick the first boy who
+throws a spit-ball, or who does anything contrary to the rules of the
+school," said Mr. Thrasher, flourishing a raw hide, on the first
+morning. He read a long list of rules, numbered from one up to eighteen.
+Before he finished his rules, a little boy laughed, and caught a
+whipping. Before noon half a dozen were hauled up. There was a council
+of war at noon among the big boys, who, having had their own way, were
+determined to keep it. They agreed to give Mr. Thrasher a pitched
+battle. They had it in the afternoon; a half-dozen pounced upon the
+master at once, and after a short struggle put him out doors. They gave
+a grand hurrah, and pelted him with snowballs, and drove him up the
+street.
+
+There was great commotion in the town. Those who loved law and order
+were alarmed for the welfare of their children.
+
+"We must have a master who can rule them, or they will grow up to be
+lawless citizens," said Judge Adams.
+
+Mr. Cannel could find no one who was willing to teach the school.
+
+"I don't see why anybody who is competent to teach should be afraid to
+undertake the task," said Paul to Mr. Chrome, one day, as they talked
+the matter over.
+
+Mr. Chrome met Mr. Cannel that evening on the street. "If there is
+anybody who is competent to keep the school, it is Paul Parker," said
+Mr. Chrome, who had exalted ideas of Paul's ability to overcome
+difficulties.
+
+"I believe you," Mr. Cannel replied, and started at once to see Paul.
+
+"I will think of it, and let you know in the morning whether I will
+teach or not," was Paul's reply, after hearing what Mr. Cannel had to
+say.
+
+He talked the matter over with his mother.
+
+"It is a great undertaking, Paul; I cannot advise you," she said.
+
+When he offered his evening prayer, he asked that God would direct him.
+He thought upon the subject during the night. Could he carry it through?
+The scholars all knew him,--had been to school with him,--were his old
+friends and playmates. Bob Swift was a ringleader; and outside, not in
+the school, was Philip, who would make all the trouble he could. There
+was Miss Dobb, who would like to have picked him to pieces. There were
+others who would rejoice to see him fail. But would it not be glorious
+to succeed,--to triumph over Miss Dobb? But that was an unworthy motive,
+and he put the thought out of his mind. He resolved to undertake the
+task, and try to do good,--to guide and mould the minds of the
+scholars,--those who were to be men and women, who were to act an
+important part in life, and who were to live not only here, but in
+another world,--who, he hoped, would be companions of the angels. Would
+it not be worth while to aid in overcoming evil, in establishing law and
+order,--to inculcate a love of virtue, truth, and honor?
+
+It would require nerve, energy, patience, and wisdom. "I'll try it," he
+said to himself, after looking at all sides.
+
+When it was known that Paul was going to try his hand at school-keeping
+the big boys chuckled. "We'll sweeten him," said Bob, rubbing his hands,
+and anticipating the glorious fun they would have.
+
+Conscious that he had a task before him which would try him severely,
+Paul yet went bravely to his work, locking the door as he entered the
+school-room, and putting the key in his pocket. The big boys looked at
+each other, somewhat amazed, each anxious to see what the others thought
+of it. He walked deliberately to his desk. "It is always best to begin
+an undertaking rightly," said Paul, standing erect and looking calmly
+round the room. "There is no better way than to ask our Heavenly Father
+to direct us, and so we will all repeat the Lord's Prayer," he said and
+waited till the room was so still that the scholars could almost hear
+the beating of their hearts. The stillness filled them with awe. After
+prayer he addressed them,--not alluding to anything which had taken
+place, but simply saying that he had been employed to teach them, and
+should do what he could to make the school-room a pleasant place to all.
+He expected that they would obey whatever rules were necessary for the
+good of the school, but did not threaten them with punishment.
+
+It was so unlike what they had expected that the big boys did not know
+what to make of it, or how to take it. Bob could not decide whether it
+was best to begin a war, or wait till something happened, and then have
+a grand battle. So the forenoon passed without any disturbance.
+
+Philip saw Bob at noon. "You are a coward, Bob, or you would have
+pitched Paul heels over head out of the door. I would if I were there,
+and so would you if you had as much gumption as an old setting hen. I
+thought you were going to 'sweeten him,'" he said, with a sneer.
+
+"So I am," said Bob, nettled at the taunt, and resolving to drive Paul
+out in the afternoon.
+
+When Paul entered the school-room after dinner, he saw at a glance that
+there was mischief ahead. The whole school was on tip-toe. He locked the
+door, and again put the key in his pocket. Bob was standing in the
+middle of the floor with his hat on.
+
+"Take off your hat, Master Swift, and go to your seat," said Paul.
+
+"I sha'n't do it," said Bob,--who the next instant went spinning round
+the room, tumbling over a chair, falling upon the floor, finding himself
+picked up and thrown against a desk, then having his heels tripped up,
+and then set to whirling so fast that the room seemed all windows. He
+was cuffed backward and forward, to the right and the left, pitched
+headlong, and jerked back again so suddenly, that he lost his breath. He
+was like a little child in the hands of a giant. He was utterly
+powerless. One of the other boys sprang to help him, but was met by a
+blow between his eyes which knocked him to the floor. A second started,
+but when he saw what had happened he sat down. Bob's brain was in a
+whirl. His ears were tingling. He saw stars, and it seemed as if all
+his hair had been torn out by the roots. He heard Paul say, once more,
+calmly, as at first, "Take your seat, Master Swift." He hesitated a
+moment, but when, through the blinking stars, he saw how cool and
+decided Paul was, standing there as if nothing had happened,--when he
+saw the boy who had started to aid him sprawling on the floor, and the
+others who had promised to help put Paul out of doors sitting in their
+seats,--he knew that it was of no use to resist. He took his seat and
+sat all the afternoon wondering at Paul's strength. Paul was surprised
+to find himself so powerful and athletic; but then he remembered that he
+had right on his side, which always helps a man.
+
+The victory was won. The school felt that he was their master. Yet he
+had a pleasant smile. When they were tired of study he said, "I see that
+you are getting dull and need stirring up." Then he told them a story
+which set them all laughing, and so made them forget that they were
+tired and sleepy.
+
+At night he had a talk with Bob all alone, telling him that he ought to
+be a good boy for his poor old mother's sake. That touched Bob in a
+tender place, for he loved his mother, and was a good-hearted fellow,
+but had allowed Philip to twist him round his little finger.
+
+"For her sake, Bob, I want you to be good; I will help you all I can,"
+said Paul. It was spoken so kindly and frankly that Bob knew Paul meant
+it. "Cut loose from those who advise you to do wrong, and tell them that
+you are going to do right," said Paul, as they parted for the night.
+
+"I will," said Bob, who, as he thought it all over that night, and
+recalled the kind words, felt that Paul would be his best friend if he
+did right.
+
+"I must get Azalia and Daphne to help me make a man of Bob," said Paul
+to himself,--"they can do what I can't."
+
+He called upon Azalia. There was a bright fire on the hearth in the
+sitting-room, but the smile on her face, he thought, was more pleasant
+to see.
+
+"I am glad you have conquered," she said.
+
+"I don't know that I have done so, yet; when I can feel that they all
+love me, then I may begin to think that it is a victory. I have had a
+talk with Bob. He is a good fellow, but under bad influences. I want you
+to help me. If we can make him respect himself, we shall make a man of
+him."
+
+"I will do what I can," said Azalia.
+
+When Paul went away she sat down by the window and watched him till he
+was out of sight. "How thoughtful he is for the welfare of others!" was
+the thought which passed through her mind. Then she gazed upon the red
+and purple clouds with gold and silver linings, and upon the clear
+sunset sky beyond, till the twilight faded away, and the stars came out
+in the heavens. Paul's words were ringing in her ears,--"I want you to
+help me." Yes, she would help him, for he was trying to make the world
+better.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+RALLYING ROUND THE FLAG.
+
+
+There came a gloomy day to the people of New Hope,--that gloomiest of
+the year, of all the years,--that on which they received the astounding
+intelligence that Fort Sumter had been attacked by the people of South
+Carolina, and that Major Anderson commanding it, with his little
+company, had been compelled to surrender. News so startling brought all
+the people into the streets. They assembled around the telegraph office,
+where Mr. Magnet read the despatch; how the attack had been made at
+daybreak on Friday, the 12th of April, all the batteries which General
+Beauregard had erected opening fire upon the half-starved garrison; how
+shot and shell were rained upon the fort, from Moultrie, from the guns
+on Morris Island, and from the floating battery which the Rebels had
+built; how Major Anderson coolly ate his breakfast; how Captain
+Doubleday fired the first gun in reply; how the cannonade went on all
+day, the great guns roaring and jumping; how the fight commenced again
+next morning; how the barracks were set on fire by the shells from the
+Rebel guns; how manfully the garrison fought against the flames, rolling
+kegs of powder into the sea to prevent their exploding; how the soldiers
+were scorched by the heat and almost suffocated by the smoke; how the
+flag-staff was shot away; how the flag was nailed to the broken mast;
+how the brave little band held out till their powder was almost
+exhausted, and till there was nothing to eat but raw salt pork; how at
+last, after thirty-six hours' fighting, Major Anderson surrendered the
+fort, saluting his flag as he hauled it down, carrying it away with him,
+being permitted to sail with his company to New York; and how the
+President had called for seventy-five thousand men to suppress the
+rebellion. The people held their breath while Mr. Magnet was reading,
+and when he had finished looked at one another in mournful silence. The
+flag of their country was trailed in the dust, and dishonored in the
+sight of the nations. They could not have felt worse if they had lost a
+dear friend by death.
+
+"The country is gone, gone, gone," said Judge Adams, wiping the tears
+from his eyes.
+
+"I reckon not, Judge," said Colonel Dare, "the people will have
+something to say about this insult to the flag. They will wipe out the
+disgrace by sweeping those scoundrels into the sea." The Colonel usually
+looked on the bright side of things. He recalled the trainings of other
+days, when his regiment paraded on the green and had a sham-fight. He
+wished that he were once more in command; he would march to Charleston,
+burn the city, and sow it with salt.
+
+"The question is, whether a sovereign State has not a right to secede if
+she chooses," said Mr. Funk,--for he and Philip were the only persons in
+New Hope who were not sorrowful over the intelligence. Mr. Funk was a
+native of Virginia, and had much to say about the superiority of
+Southern gentlemen over all other men,--how noble and chivalric they
+were.
+
+"I am glad that the President has called for seventy-five thousand men
+to crush the vipers," said the Colonel.
+
+"He can't do it. It won't be constitutional. You can't coerce a
+sovereign State," said Mr. Funk.
+
+"We will do it. Let me tell you, Mr. Funk, that this is a government of
+the people,--the whole people,--and that the old flag which has been
+stricken from the walls of Sumter shall go up there, if it takes a
+million of men to put it there!"
+
+"You can't do it. One Southerner can whip five Yankees any day," said
+Philip.
+
+Colonel Dare took no notice of what Philip said. And he was too much
+depressed by the news to enter into an argument with Mr. Funk upon the
+right of a State to secede from the Union.
+
+One by one the people went to their homes, meditating upon what they had
+heard, and wondering what next would happen. They could not work; they
+could only think of the terrible event.
+
+What a gloomy day it was to Paul Parker! He went home, sat down before
+the fire, and looked into the glowing coals. The gun which his
+grandfather carried at Bunker Hill, and which in his hands had brought
+down many a squirrel from the highest trees, was hanging in its usual
+place. He felt like shouldering it and marching for Charleston. He
+recalled the stories which his grandfather had told him there upon the
+hearth, of Bunker Hill and Saratoga. Many times he had wished that he
+had lived in those glorious days, to be a patriot, and assist in
+securing the independence of America. But now the work which his
+grandfather and the Revolutionary sires had accomplished seemed to be
+all lost. It made him sick at heart to think of it. Would the people
+resent the insult which South Carolina had given to the flag? What would
+the President do? What if he did nothing? What would become of the
+country? What would become of liberty, justice, truth, and right? O, how
+hard it was to see them all stricken down,--to think that the world was
+turning backward! He looked into the coals till he could see great
+armies meeting in battle,--houses in flames, and the country drenched in
+blood. He sat motionless, forgetful of everything but the terrible
+intelligence and the gloomy future. What part should he take in the
+contest? What could he do? The President had called for men to help
+raise the flag once more upon the walls of Sumter; could he leave his
+home, his mother, his friends? These were trying questions; but he felt
+that he could go wherever duty called him.
+
+Colonel Dare, as he reflected upon what had happened, saw that the
+people needed stirring up to sustain the President; that the Rebellion
+must be put down, or there would be an end of all government. He
+resolved to get up a public meeting. "We will have it this evening, and
+you must be chairman," he said to Judge Adams.
+
+He called upon Rev. Mr. Surplice. "I want you to open the meeting by
+prayer," he said, "for these are sober days. We need God's help. If we
+ask Him, He will help us. And you must make a speech. Come down on the
+Rebels," he added, with sudden indignation; "curse them, as David cursed
+the enemies of God. You, who are watchman on the walls of Zion, must
+lead off, and the people will follow. Their hearts are burning within
+them; the kindlings are laid; strike the match now, and there will be
+such a flame of patriotism as the world never saw."
+
+"We shall want singing," he said to Paul. "You must get that up."
+
+He engaged Mr. Tooter to be there with his fife, and Mr. Noggin with his
+drum. These two were old companions on training days. They had drank
+many glasses of cider together, and had played "Yankee Doodle," and "The
+Campbells are coming," and "Saint Patrick's Day in the Morning," on
+many occasions.
+
+"We shall expect some resolutions and a speech from you," he said to
+Squire Capias.
+
+Thus he laid out the work, and entered upon it with so much zeal, that
+all hands caught the spirit of his enthusiasm. Judge Adams, who had been
+very much depressed, became more cheerful, and thought over what he
+should say upon the occasion. Rev. Mr. Surplice looked through the
+Psalms and Isaiah and the New Testament to find the Scripture most
+appropriate to read. Squire Capias sat down by his round table in his
+dingy office, ran his fingers through his long black hair, and thought
+over his speech. Paul and Azalia, with Hans, went to Colonel Dare's,
+and, with Daphne, rehearsed the "Star-Spangled Banner," and "America,"
+while Mr. Noggin put a new cord into his drum, which had been lying for
+months in his garret, and was covered with dust.
+
+Evening came. The sexton rang the bell of the church,--not soberly and
+steadily, but he tugged with all his might at the rope, throwing the
+bell over and over,--ringing as if the whole town was in a blaze. The
+farmers out on the hills heard it, and came driving furiously into the
+village to see what was the matter.
+
+Mr. Tooter and Mr. Noggin, with Mr. Chrome, who had a new flag, walked
+out upon the parade-ground. The musicians struck up Yankee-Doodle. How
+it stirred the hearts of everybody,--the sharp, shrill notes of the
+fife,--the roll, the rattle, and the rat-a-tat-tat of the drum, and the
+clanging of the bell, and the sight of that flag, its crimson folds and
+fadeless stars waving in the evening breeze! Never had it looked so
+beautiful. The little boys swung their caps and cheered, the women waved
+their handkerchiefs, and the men hurrahed in an outburst of wild
+enthusiasm. Then they formed in procession with Colonel Dare for
+marshal,--the music and the flag in advance, Rev. Mr. Surplice, Judge
+Adams, and Squire Capias next, and then all the citizens, marching round
+the public square to the church, filling the house, the pews, the
+aisles, the entry, and hanging like a swarm of bees around the windows.
+
+Judge Adams forgot all his despondency, while Mr. Surplice, who was
+getting a little prosy as a preacher, was as full of fire as in his
+younger days. Mr. Capias was so eloquent that the people stamped till
+the house fairly shook with applause. He ended with resolutions,
+pledging the support of the people of New Hope to the government,--their
+lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor towards suppressing the
+Rebellion. But more thrilling than all the eloquence of the evening was
+the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner, by Azalia, Daphne, Paul, and
+Hans. They stood on the platform in front of the pulpit, Azalia and
+Daphne with flags in their hands. How sweet their voices! How inspiring
+the moment when they sang:
+
+"And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the
+free and the home of the brave!"
+
+Men threw up their hats, women waved their handkerchiefs, and all
+cheered and shouted, while many shed tears, as they looked upon the
+banner of their country, which had been so insulted and despised. There,
+in the place where they met on the Sabbath to worship God, they resolved
+that, let it cost what it might of money, of sacrifice, or of life, the
+old flag should once more wave in triumph upon the walls of Fort
+Sumter,--that the Rebellion should be subdued and the traitors
+punished.
+
+That was an ever memorable night to Paul. Alone in his chamber, lying on
+his bed, whence he could look out, as in childhood, upon the stars, he
+thought upon what had happened at Fort Sumter, and of the meeting in the
+church at New Hope, and how he had pledged himself with the rest to
+stand by the flag of his country. The water by the mill was repeating
+the soul-stirring song, which Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and himself had
+sung. The maples, elms, and all the forest-trees, like a multitudinous
+chorus of a great and mighty people, were saying, "It shall wave--shall
+wave--over the home of the brave!"
+
+But men were wanted. The President had called for them. Ought he not to
+be one of the seventy-five thousand? Would not his grandfather, if
+alive, point to the old gun, and say, "Go, Paul, your country calls
+you?" Were not all who have died for liberty, justice, truth, and right
+calling upon him to do his duty? Were not the oppressed everywhere
+looking to him? What answer could he give to the millions yet to be, if
+in his old age they were to question him as to what part he bore in the
+great struggle? Thus the voices of the ages propounded solemn
+questions--voices of earth and heaven--of his duty to his country and to
+God. But how could he leave his home, his mother, his friends, his
+school, the choir, Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and give up the dear
+associations of the place? What if he should fall in battle? Could he
+meet death face to face? But then he remembered that the path of duty,
+though it may lead through dangers, though it may lead to the death of
+the body, is the way by which peace comes to the soul. It was the most
+solemn moment of his life, for God was questioning him. He heard not
+only the voices of the past, and of the winds, the water, and of his
+country, calling him to do his duty as a patriot, but there was a still,
+small voice talking of sins committed and duties neglected; of a lie
+which he had told in childhood, and which had burned through all the
+years like a red-hot iron, leaving a crisped and blackened scar upon his
+soul. How could he be at peace? How ease the pain? Tears of anguish
+rolled down his cheeks. He turned and tossed in agony, wishing that the
+scar could be cut away, and that he could be made fit to dwell with the
+angels. But in his agony he heard another voice saying, "Come unto me,
+and I will give you rest."
+
+They were no longer tears of sorrow which wet his pillow, but of joy,
+for he saw that Jesus, having carried the cross up to Calvary, was able
+and willing also to bear his burden. What a friend,--to take away all
+his sin, and leave no scar, no pain, no sorrow! He would serve such a
+friend with his whole soul. He would do his duty, whatever it might be.
+For such a friend, he could go through all dangers and win his way to
+victory. For him he would live, and for him he would die, if need be, to
+save his country.
+
+"Go, my son,--your country calls you, and God will take care of you,"
+said his mother in the morning, when he told her that he thought it his
+duty to enlist.
+
+"I have decided to be a volunteer, and shall spend a half-hour with the
+school and then dismiss it, and this will be my last day as a teacher,"
+said Paul to the school committee, as he went for the last time to the
+school-house. It was hard to part with those who were dear to him. He
+had been so kind and gentle, and yet so firm and just, that all the
+scholars loved him.
+
+"You may lay aside your books, I have not time to hear your
+lessons,"--he said, and then talked of what had happened,--said that the
+flag had been insulted, that justice, law, religious liberty, truth, and
+right had been overthrown, and that, unless the Rebellion was put down,
+they would have no country, no home,--that God and his country called
+him, and he must go. The issues at stake were not only worth living for,
+but they were worth dying for, if they could be secured in no other way.
+It was a duty to fight for them. How hard it was to say "Good by!" They
+would meet again, but perhaps not in this world. His voice trembled;
+there was weeping around the room. When he dismissed them, they had no
+heart to play; they could only think how good and kind he was, and how
+great their loss; and in imagination, looking into the gloomy future,
+beheld him in the thickest of the fight upon the battle-field.
+
+The whole country was aflame with patriotism. The drum-beat was heard
+not only in New Hope, but in every city and village of the land. There
+was a flag on almost every house. Farmers left their ploughs in the
+unfinished furrows; the fire of the blacksmith's forge went out;
+carpenters laid down their planes; lawyers put aside their cases in the
+courts,--all to become citizen soldiers and aid in saving the
+country,--assembling in squads, companies, and regiments at the
+county-seats.
+
+He called upon Rev. Mr. Surplice. "The Lord be with you, to guide,
+protect, and bless you," said the good man as he bade Paul farewell. It
+was a blessing and a benediction which followed Paul all the day, which
+comforted and strengthened him, when he reflected that he might be
+bidding a last farewell to his friends.
+
+He was surprised to find that everybody was his friend; that all bade
+him God speed,--all, except Mr. Funk and Philip. It was evening when he
+called upon Azalia. He had shaken hands with Daphne and Hans, and others
+of his associates. The train would bear him away in the morning. Azalia
+came tripping down the path, holding out both hands to meet him at the
+gate. She greeted him with a sad smile. "You are not going away to the
+war, are you?" she asked with faltering voice.
+
+"Yes, Azalia, and I have come to bid you good by!"
+
+"Do you think it your duty to go and leave your mother? It will be hard
+for her to give you up; she will miss you very much, and we shall all
+miss you."
+
+"I know that the old house will be lonesome,--that the days will be long
+and the nights dreary to my mother,--that she will listen to every
+approaching footstep and think perhaps it is mine. I know, Azalia, that
+possibly I may never return; I feel that perhaps this is the last time I
+may ever take you by the hand; but I feel that God and my country both
+are calling me, and that I must go."
+
+"But what if you are killed on the battle-field! O Paul, it is dreadful
+to think of!"
+
+"I would rather die there while doing what I feel to be my duty, than
+remain here shirking responsibility. Last night I heard the voices of
+the past calling me, and I seemed to see the myriads who are to come
+after us beckoning me. I know it is my duty to go. You would not have me
+falter, would you, Azalia?"
+
+She could not reply. Her voice choked with emotion; she had not expected
+such a question. Tears came into her eyes, and she turned away to hide
+them.
+
+"I could not go without coming to see you, to thank you for all your
+kindness to me; you have been always a faithful and true friend. God
+bless you for all you have done for me! I know your goodness of heart,
+and I hope that, when I am gone, you will sometimes go in and comfort my
+mother, and shorten the hours for her; for your smile is always like the
+sunshine, and it will cheer her."
+
+"I will do what I can to make her forget that you are gone."
+
+"And you will not wholly forget me."
+
+"I shall never forget you," she replied; then, looking steadily upon
+him, with a strong effort to keep down her emotion, said, "Paul, I have
+heard that there are many dangers in camp; that soldiers sometimes
+forget home and old friends, and become callous and hardened to good
+influences; that they lose sight of heaven and things holy and pure amid
+the new duties and strange excitements. But for the sake of those who
+respect and honor and love you, you will not give way to vice, will you?
+I know you will not, for my sake."
+
+"For your sake, Azalia, if for no other reason, I will resist evil, and
+I will try to serve God and my country faithfully in all things, so that
+if I come back, or if I fall in battle, you will not be ashamed of
+having once been my friend."
+
+She touched her sweet lips to his forehead, saying, "I have nothing else
+to give you for such a promise. Remember that it came from your old
+friend, Azalia."
+
+His heart was full. He had braved himself to say farewell to all his
+friends without shedding a tear, but his courage was faltering. How
+could he go, perhaps never to return! He wanted to say more. He wanted
+to sit down at her feet and worship such goodness; but he could only
+dash away the tears, look for a moment into her eyes, drink in the sad
+smile upon her face, leave a kiss upon her cheek, press her a moment to
+his heart, and say, "God bless you, Azalia!"
+
+He turned hastily away, and passed through the gate. He cast one glance
+behind, and beheld her standing in the gravelled walk, her chestnut hair
+falling upon her shoulders, and the setting sun throwing around her its
+golden light. She waved him an adieu, and he passed on, thinking of her
+as his good angel. When far away, pacing his lonely beat at dead of
+night, he would think of her and behold her as in that parting hour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+A SOLDIER.
+
+
+He was a soldier in camp, wearing a blue uniform, sleeping in a tent,
+wrapped in a blanket, with a knapsack for a pillow. He had voluntarily
+given up the freedom of home, and was ready to yield obedience to
+military rule. He could not pass the guard without a permit. When the
+drum beat, he must spring to his feet. He was obliged to wear a
+knapsack, a cartridge-box, a canteen, and a bayonet scabbard, and carry
+a gun, not always as he would like to carry it, but as ordered by the
+officer in command. He was obliged to march hour after hour, and if he
+came to a brook or a muddy place, instead of turning aside and passing
+over on stepping-stones or upon a fallen tree, he must go through
+without breaking the ranks. His companions were not altogether such as
+he liked to associate with. Some were very profane, and used indecent
+language. There was one great, over-grown Dutchman, Gottlieb von Dunk,
+who smoked nearly all the time when awake, and who snored terribly when
+asleep. But he was a good-hearted fellow for all that, and had a great
+many pleasant stories to tell.
+
+It was inspiring to hear the drum and fife, the blast of the bugle, and
+the playing of the band. It was glorious to look upon the star-spangled
+banner, waving in the breeze; but the excitement soon wore away. There
+were rainy days, comfortless and cheerless. Sometimes the rations were
+not fit to be eaten, and there was grumbling in the camp. There were
+days of homesickness, when the soldiers longed to break away from the
+restraints of camp life, and be free once more.
+
+The regiment in which Paul enlisted was ordered to Cairo, in Illinois,
+where it joined several others. When the men were enlisted, they
+expected to march at once upon the Rebels, but week after week passed
+by, spring became summer, and summer lengthened into autumn, and there
+was no movement of the troops. The ardor of their patriotism died out.
+It was a monotonous life, waking early in the morning to answer
+roll-call, to eat breakfast of salt pork and hard-tack, drilling by
+squads, by companies, by battalion, marching and countermarching, going
+through the same manoeuvres every day, shouldering, ordering, and
+presenting arms, making believe load and fire, standing on guard,
+putting out their lights at nine o'clock at night,--doing all this, week
+after week, with the Rebels at Columbus, only twenty miles down the
+river. It was very irksome. Sometimes Paul's heart went back to New
+Hope, as the dear old times came crowding upon him; but he had learned
+to be patient. He knew that it was necessary for soldiers to become
+disciplined. He had enlisted for the war, he gave his whole attention to
+doing his duty, and received his reward by being made a sergeant. He
+kept his gun clean, his equipments in good order, and he was always in
+his place. So prompt was he, that his commander nicknamed him Sergeant
+Ready. He was as ready to play a game of football, or to run a race, as
+he was to appear in the ranks at drill. When off duty, instead of idling
+away his time, he was studying the tactics, learning not only his duty
+as a sergeant, but what it would be if he were a lieutenant or a
+captain.
+
+The camp of his regiment was near the town, on the bank of the
+Mississippi, where he saw the great steamboats pass down the Mississippi
+from St. Louis, and down the Ohio from Louisville and Cincinnati, with
+thousands of troops on board, with the flags and banners streaming, the
+bands playing, and the soldiers cheering. It was pleasant to stand upon
+the levee, and behold the stirring scenes,--the gunboats commanded by
+the brave and good Admiral Foote, the great eleven-inch guns peeping
+from the portholes,--but Paul longed for active life. He rejoiced when
+he heard that his regiment was ordered to leave the Ohio River and go
+down toward Columbus on a reconnoitring expedition. The soldiers were so
+happy that they threw up their caps and gave a loud hurrah.
+
+With their haversacks full of hard-tack and cold boiled beef, carrying
+their tin cups and plates, their cartridge-boxes full of cartridges,
+they embarked on one of the great steamboats, and floated down the
+river. They were exhilarated with the thought that they were to have new
+and untried experiences,--that perhaps there would be a battle. They
+paced the deck of the steamboat nervously, and looked carefully into the
+woods along the river-bank to see if there were any Rebel scouts lurking
+behind the trees.
+
+Six miles below Cairo is a place called Old Fort Jefferson, where many
+years ago the white settlers built a fort, and where they had a battle
+with the Indians. The Essex gunboat, Captain Porter, was lying there,
+swinging at her anchors in the stream. A sailor paced the deck in a
+short blue jacket, who had a spy-glass in his hand, and kept a sharp
+lookout down the river, for there were two Rebel gunboats below in the
+bend.
+
+The regiment landed on the Kentucky side, where a narrow creek comes
+down from the hills through a wild ravine. Suddenly there was a cry of
+"There they come! the Rebel gunboats." Paul looked down the river, and
+saw two dark-colored boats.
+
+"Heave anchor! Put on steam. Light up the magazines. Pipe all hand to
+quarters! Lively!" were the orders on board the Essex.
+
+The boatswain blew his whistle, the drummer beat the long roll, and the
+sailors, who had been dozing about the decks, were instantly astir,
+weighing the anchors, running out the great guns, bringing up shot and
+shell from the hold, and clearing the deck for action. The great wheels
+turned, and the Essex swung out into the stream, and prepared to meet
+her antagonists. What an exciting moment! Paul felt the blood rush
+through his veins as he never felt it before. One of the approaching
+gunboats was suddenly enveloped in white smoke. He heard a screaming in
+the air, coming nearer and nearer, and growing louder and louder and
+more terrifying. He felt a cold chill creep over him. He held his
+breath. He was in doubt whether it would be better to get behind a tree,
+or lie down, or take to his heels. He could see nothing in the air, but
+he knew that a shot was coming. Perhaps it might hit him. He thought of
+home, his mother, Azalia, and all the old friends. He lived years in a
+second. "I won't run," he said to himself, as the iron bolt came on.
+Crash! it went through a great oak-tree, shivering it to splinters, and
+flying on into the woods, cutting off branches, and falling to the
+ground at last with a heavy _thug!_ ploughing a deep furrow and burying
+itself out of sight. There was a roar of thunder rolling along the
+river-banks, echoing from woodland to woodland. Then the heavy
+eleven-inch gun of the Essex jumped up from the deck, took a leap
+backwards, almost jerking the great iron ringbolts from the sides of the
+ship, coming down with a jar which made her quiver from stem to stern,
+sending a shell, smoking and hissing, down stream, towards the Rebel
+gunboat, and striking it amidships, throwing the planks into the water.
+"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted the crew of the Essex. "Hurrah! Hurrah!"
+answered the soldiers on shore, dancing about and cheering. Another shot
+came screeching towards them as loud as the first; but it was not half
+so terrifying. Paul thought it was not worth while to be frightened till
+he was hurt, and so he stood his ground, and watched the firing till the
+Rebel gunboats turned towards Columbus and disappeared behind the
+distant headland, followed by Captain Porter, who kept his great guns
+booming till he was almost within range of the Rebel batteries at
+Columbus. He was a brave man, short and stout, with a heavy beard. His
+father commanded the United States ship Essex in 1812, and had a long,
+hard fight with two British ships in the harbor of Valparaiso, fighting
+against great odds, till his decks were slippery with blood, till nearly
+all of his guns were dismounted, when he was obliged to surrender.
+
+"The son is a chip of the old block," said Admiral Foote the next day to
+Captain Porter, commending his watchfulness and promptness to meet the
+enemy. Paul saw how necessary it was in military operations to be always
+on the watch, and he felt that it was also necessary to be calm and
+self-possessed when on the battle-field.
+
+The regiment took up its line of march, for a reconnoissance towards
+Columbus, along a winding path through the woods, passing log
+farm-houses, crossing creeks on log bridges. Paul noticed all the
+windings of the road, the hills, houses, and other objects, keeping
+count of his steps from one place to another, jotting it down on a slip
+of paper when the regiment came to a halt. They could not kindle a fire,
+for they were in the enemy's country, and each man ate his supper of
+hard-tack and cold beef, and washed it down with water from the creek.
+
+Paul was sitting on a log eating his supper, and looking about for a
+place to spread his blanket for the night, when the Colonel of the
+regiment came to him and said: "Sergeant Parker, it is very important
+that a reconnoissance be made to-night towards the enemy's lines. I hear
+that you are a good, faithful, and trustworthy soldier. Are you willing
+to take it?"
+
+"I have no desire to shirk any responsibility. If you wish me to go, I
+am ready," said Paul.
+
+"Very well; gain all the information you can, and report at daybreak,"
+said the Colonel.
+
+He went out alone in the darkness, past the pickets. And now that he was
+alone, and moving towards the enemy, he felt that he was engaged in a
+hazardous undertaking. He walked softly, crouching down, listening to
+every sound;--on through deep and gloomy ravines, through the dense
+forests, past farm-houses, where dogs were howling,--noticing all the
+objects, and picturing them in memory.
+
+"Halt! Who comes there?" shouted a voice. He heard the click of a
+gun-lock. It was a very dark night; stooping close to the ground, he
+could see an object by the roadside, immediately before him. He held his
+breath. What should he do? "Keep cool," said a monitor within. His heart
+had leaped into his throat, but it went back to its proper place. "Who
+comes there?" said the sentinel again.
+
+Instead of answering, he moved backward so softly and noiselessly that
+he could not hear his own footsteps.
+
+"What is the row?" he heard a Rebel officer ask of the sentinel.
+
+"There is a Yankee prowling about, I reckon," said the sentinel in a
+whisper, and added, "There he is."
+
+"Shoot him!" said the officer.
+
+There was a flash which blinded Paul. He heard the Minie bullet sing
+above him. He could see the dark forms of the two men. He had a revolver
+in his hand, and could have shot them, but he was there to gain
+information, and not to bring on a fight.
+
+"It is nothing but a stump, after all," said the officer.
+
+The report of the gun re-echoed far and near. The night was still, and
+he could hear other pickets talking out in the field on his right hand
+and on his left. How fortunate! He knew where they were, and now could
+avoid them. But ought he not to turn back? He resolved not to be
+frightened from his object. After lying still awhile, he went back along
+the road, then turned aside, walked softly from tree to tree, careful
+not to crackle a twig beneath his feet, crept on his hands and knees
+through the thick underbrush, and gained the road in the rear of the
+picket. Being inside of the enemy's lines, he knew that he could move
+more freely, for if any of the sentinels heard him they would think it
+one of their own number. He walked on, but suddenly found himself
+standing face to face with a dozen soldiers.
+
+"Well, Jim, are there any Yankees down there?" one asked.
+
+"The sentinel thought he saw a Yankee, but I reckon he fired at a
+stump," said Paul, passing boldly by them to their rear.
+
+He now saw that he was in a Rebel camp. There were smouldering fires,
+tents, a cannon, baggage-wagons, and horses which were munching their
+grain. What should he do? He felt that he was in a critical situation.
+If taken, he would be hung as a spy. He stood still and reflected a
+moment, to calm his nerves. He had blundered in, perhaps he might get
+out. He would try; but as he was there, ought he not to improve the
+opportunity to find out all about the camp, how large it was, how many
+men there were? He counted the baggage-wagons and the tents. He almost
+stumbled over a man who was wrapped in his blanket. It was an officer
+sound asleep, with his sword by his side. He was sleeping so deeply that
+Paul ventured to take the sword, for he thought, unless he carried
+something back as evidence, his report would not be believed. And then
+he crept back past the grand guard, and past the sentinels, sometimes
+crawling an inch at a time, then stepping as noiselessly as a cat in
+search of her prey, till he was past them all. He was surprised to find
+how cool and self-possessed he was, how clear his brain, and how wide
+awake were all his faculties. He was as light-hearted as a bird in
+spring-time, for even in the darkness, while he was dimly discerning
+what was around him, he saw Azalia, as he last beheld her in the
+gravelled walk before her home, waving him on! At daybreak he reached
+the lines once more. The Colonel heard his story, and was in doubt about
+its truth; but when he saw how accurate a map Paul drew, and that the
+sword was marked C. S. A., for the Confederate States of America,--when
+he saw how modest and straightforward Paul was in all that he did,--he
+said, "Sergeant Parker, I shall inform General Grant that you have done
+your duty faithfully."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+SCOUTING.
+
+
+"Sergeant Parker is hereby ordered to report immediately at General
+Grant's Headquarters," was the order which Paul received the next
+morning. He wondered what General Grant could want of him. He entered
+the General's tent, and saw a short, thick-set, middle-aged man with
+sandy whiskers, sitting at a table, reading letters and smoking a cigar.
+He was dressed in a plain blue blouse, and as he had no straps on his
+shoulders, Paul thought he was the General's orderly.
+
+"Is General Grant about?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir," said the man, looking up pleasantly.
+
+"I should like to see him," said Paul.
+
+"I am General Grant."
+
+Paul was astonished to find a general so affable and pleasant, for he
+had seen some lieutenants and captains strut like turkey-cocks, because
+they wore straps on their shoulders. Paul saluted the General, and said,
+"I am ordered to report to you, sir."
+
+"O yes; you are Sergeant Parker, who made a reconnoissance last night;
+sit down, Sergeant, till I finish my letters." It was spoken so
+pleasantly and kindly, that Paul said to himself, "He is a gentleman."
+
+When the General had finished his letters he lighted another cigar, and
+questioned Paul about his adventures; how far it was to the Rebel camp,
+and how the camp was situated.
+
+"I will give you a sketch of the place," said Paul; and, sitting up to
+the table, he drew a map, putting down the creeks, the roads, the woods,
+the distances from point to point, the place where he came upon the
+pickets, the position of the tents, and all the objects he saw. The
+General sat in silence, smoking, and looking at Paul with a keen eye. It
+was drawn neatly and quickly, and with an accuracy which surprised the
+General. Paul had kept count of his steps from one object to another. By
+looking up to the stars he had kept the points of the compass, and knew
+whether he travelled south, or southeast, or southwest, and so he was
+able to draw an excellent map.
+
+"Where did you study topographical engineering?" the General asked.
+
+"By the kitchen fire," Paul replied.
+
+"A good college to graduate from, especially if a fellow has grit," said
+the General, smiling. "Are you willing to undertake a hazardous
+enterprise?" he asked.
+
+"I am willing to undertake anything for my country," Paul replied.
+
+The General then told him that he wished to obtain information about
+Fort Henry on the Tennessee River, and Fort Donelson on the Cumberland.
+He showed him the positions on a map, and said it was an undertaking of
+great importance, and which might cost him his life. "I will give you a
+trustworthy companion," said he.
+
+"I would rather attempt it alone, if you please. Two is one too many; it
+doubles our risk. If discovered by the Rebels, I couldn't help my
+comrade, neither could he help me. If we keep together, we shall have
+the same information. I think I shall succeed better alone," said Paul.
+
+"You are right," said the General, who told him that he might prepare
+for the trip, and that he would be sent up the Tennessee River on a
+gunboat, and put on shore a few miles from Fort Henry, and that he must
+return in ten days. "I hear a good report of you, and have confidence in
+you. I desire accurate information; for if it is not accurate, it may
+lead to very disastrous results," said the General.
+
+Two nights later, Paul stood alone on the bank of the Tennessee. The
+gunboat which had brought him was going back. He could hear the plashing
+of her wheels growing fainter each moment. He was in the enemy's
+country, on an undertaking which might cost him his life. If discovered,
+he would be hung. For an instant his heart failed him, and he felt that
+he must turn back; then he remembered that he had enlisted in the
+service of his country, to do his duty, whatever it might be. His duty
+was before him. He was upon the ground. Would not God take care of him?
+Was not the path of duty, although it might lead to death, the only path
+of safety? There are times when duty is worth more than life. "Whatever
+is right before the Eternal God, that I will do," said Paul to himself.
+His fear was gone. He resolved to be bold, yet cautious, and to keep his
+thoughts perfectly collected under all circumstances. He had succeeded
+in one reconnoissance, which made him hopeful; but he reflected that
+success often makes men careless, so he resolved to be always on his
+guard. He had changed his uniform for a pair of old butternut-colored
+pantaloons, a ragged coat, and a slouched hat which had a hole in the
+crown. He hardly recognized himself he was so altered in appearance. He
+wondered if Azalia or Daphne would know him. He had no weapon or
+equipments. There was nothing about him which indicated that he was a
+soldier of the Union army ready to lay down his life for the old flag.
+
+He walked cautiously along the winding path, noticing all the objects;
+looking up to the north star at every turn of the road, keeping tally of
+his steps that he might know the distance travelled. He walked
+stealthily, expecting every moment to hear the challenge of the Rebel
+pickets. He was startled by the cry, "Who! Who! Who!" He came to a
+sudden halt, and then laughed to think that he had been challenged by an
+owl.
+
+In the morning he came upon a party of men cutting wood, and found that
+they were Rebel soldiers outside of the picket line. Paul took an axe
+and went to work, and so became one of them. When they went into camp
+he accompanied them, carrying the axe on his shoulder, thus passing the
+picket as a wood-chopper. He found three or four thousand soldiers at
+Fort Henry, hard at work, throwing up breastworks, digging ditches,
+hewing timber, mounting guns. He worked with them, but kept his eyes and
+ears open, noticing the position of the fort on the bank of the river,
+and how many guns there were. He found out what troops were there, where
+they came from, and who commanded them. He learned that a wagon-train
+was going to Fort Donelson after ammunition. He joined it and passed the
+picket as one of the train guards. As the wagons were empty, he had a
+chance to ride, and thus saved a weary walk of twelve miles.
+
+The little town of Dover, which is near Fort Donelson, he found alive
+with troops; regiments were arriving from Arkansas, Mississippi, Texas,
+and Tennessee. General Pillow was there in command. He was once an
+officer in the army of the United States and fought in Mexico. General
+Floyd was there with a brigade of Virginians. He was Secretary of War
+when Buchanan was President, and did what he could to destroy the Union.
+He was a thief as well as a Rebel. He was a large, coarse man. Paul
+despised him, and could hardly restrain himself from knocking the
+villain from his horse when he saw him ride by wearing the uniform of a
+traitor. There was not much discipline in the Rebel army, and Paul found
+little difficulty in going through all the camps, ascertaining what
+regiments were there. It nettled him to hear the boasts of the soldiers
+that one Southerner could whip five Yankees, but he said nothing for
+fear of betraying himself. He obtained food at a sutler's tent. He was
+very tired and sleepy when the second night came, but he found a place
+to sleep at a house in the village.
+
+"What regiment do you belong to?" asked a girl with a sallow countenance
+and grimy hands.
+
+"I am a scout," said Paul.
+
+"Be you a scout? Wal, I hope you will run across Old Abe Linkum. If you
+do, jest take his _skelp_ for me." (She meant his scalp.)
+
+"Wal, if I _cotch_ him, I reckon I'll _skelp_ him," said Paul,
+flourishing his knife, as if he was ready for such bloody work.
+
+"The Yanks are a set of vagabonds; they are the meanest critters on
+airth," said the woman. "They'll hang you if they cotch you."
+
+"I reckon I won't let 'em cotch me," said Paul.
+
+"Where be you gwine next?"
+
+"Down to Cairo, I reckon; though I go wherever the General sends me."
+
+"May be you would do a little chore for me,--get me some pins, needles,
+and thread?"
+
+"It is mighty skittish business, but I'll see what I can do," said Paul.
+
+Having obtained his information, his next business was to get away. He
+waited till the lights were put out in the camps at night, then, walking
+down to the river he found a small boat, jumped in and pushed out into
+the stream. He could see the sentinels on the parapet of the fort as he
+floated past, but they did not discover him. Paul congratulated himself
+that he was beyond the picket line when he heard a hail from both shores
+at the same time. "Boat ahoy!" He made no reply. "Boat ahoy! come ashore
+or I'll fire," said both sentinels. He saw that he could not escape by
+rowing. They would fire if he attempted to go ahead or turn back. If he
+went ashore, he would be taken to the guard-house, questioned, probably
+put into prison, perhaps tried as a spy. He resolved that he wouldn't
+go ashore. There was no time for deliberation. It was mid-winter; the
+air was keen, and there was floating ice in the river. If he remained in
+the boat he might be shot, so he lowered himself noiselessly into the
+water. How cold it was! He felt the chill strike through him, setting
+his teeth to chattering, and his limbs quivering. There was another
+hail, and then a flash on both shores. The balls went through the boat.
+He heard the stroke of oars, and saw a boat pushing out from the shore.
+He darted ahead, swimming noiselessly down stream, gradually nearing the
+shore, for his strength was failing. He heard the men in the boat say,
+"We are fooled, it is only an empty dug-out."
+
+How hard it was to climb the bank! He could not stand, he was so
+chilled. Once he rose to his feet, but tumbled like a log to the ground.
+He wanted to go to sleep, but he knew it would be his last sleep if he
+yielded. He drained the water from his boots, rubbed his legs, thrashed
+his hands, and then went reeling and blundering in the darkness over
+fallen trees. What a wearisome, cheerless night it was! How he longed
+for a fire,--a cup of warm coffee,--a comfortable bed! He thought of his
+own bed in the little old house at New Hope, and wished that he might
+lie there once more, and snuggle down beneath the warm comforters. His
+clothes were frozen, and notwithstanding he beat his hands till the
+blood dripped from his fingers, he could get up no warmth. "Halt! Who
+comes there?" was the sharp challenge which startled him from his
+dreaming. He was close upon a picket. He turned in an instant, and began
+to run. He heard footsteps following. The thought that he was pursued
+roused all his energies. The footsteps came nearer. Putting forth all
+his strength, holding his breath, Paul went on, stumbling, rising again,
+leaping, hearing the footsteps of his pursuer coming nearer; suddenly he
+came to a deep, narrow creek. He did not hesitate an instant, but
+plunged in, swam to the other bank, gained the solid ground, and dropped
+behind a tree just as his pursuer reached the creek. The Rebel stopped
+and listened, but Paul remained perfectly still, hardly daring to
+breathe, till he heard the fellow go back muttering to himself and
+cursing the creek. The running had warmed Paul, but he was exhausted and
+drenched once more. Daybreak came, and he did not dare to travel; so,
+finding some stacks of corn in a field, he tore one of them open, made
+a bed inside, drew the bundles over him, shivered awhile, and then
+dropped asleep.
+
+He awoke suddenly to find his house tumbling to pieces,--torn down by
+Rebel soldiers.
+
+"Hello! What's here? Who be ye? What are ye up to?" said a sergeant,
+startled to find a man under the bundles. "Deserter, eh? or a spy, I
+reckon," said the fellow, holding a pistol to Paul's head.
+
+"Better put up your shooting-irons," said Paul coolly.
+
+"Give an account of yourself, how ye came here, _whar_ ye have been, and
+_whar_ ye gwine."
+
+Paul noticed that he said _whar_ for where, and replied, "I am a scout,
+and have been down by the river _whar_ the Yankee gunboats is."
+
+"I don't believe it; you look like a scarecrow, but I reckon you are a
+Yankee spy," said the Sergeant. He searched Paul, but found nothing. He
+was commanding a cavalry foraging-party, and was a brutal, ignorant
+fellow, and had been drinking whiskey, and wanted to show that he had
+power. "Boys, bring a halter; I reckon I'll make this fellow confess
+that he is a Yankee."
+
+A soldier brought a rope; one end was thrown over the limb of a tree,
+and the other made into a slip-noose, and put round his neck; but he did
+not flinch. To confess that he was a spy was sure death. He was calm.
+For a moment his thoughts went back to his home. He thought of his
+mother and Azalia; but there was little time for such reflection. He did
+not feel that his work was done. "Wal, Sergeant, what be you gwine to
+do?" he asked.
+
+"Hang you as a spy," said the Sergeant.
+
+"What sort of a report will you make to the General? What do ye think he
+will do to you when he finds that you have hung one of his scouts?" Paul
+asked.
+
+"See here, Sergeant, I reckon your are a leetle too fast in this
+matter," said one of the soldiers.
+
+Paul saw that the time had come for a bold course on his part. He had
+already ascertained what regiment of cavalry they belonged to. He had
+seen their Colonel at Dover. "What do you suppose Colonel Forrest will
+say, when he hears of this proceeding of yours?" he asked.
+
+The Sergeant started at the mention of the name of his commander, and
+began to see the proceeding in a new light. Paul threw the noose from
+his neck and said, in a tone of authority: "I will report you, sir. I
+will have you arrested. I'll teach you to do your duty better than this.
+I am an officer. I know General Pillow, General Floyd, General Buckner,
+and Colonel Forrest. I am out on important business. You found me
+asleep, and instead of taking me to your superior officer, as you ought
+to have done, you proceed to hang me. You are drunk, sir, and I'll have
+you punished."
+
+The Sergeant was very much frightened. He saw how noble a countenance
+Paul had, and felt his tone of authority. "I didn't mean any harm, sir;
+I wanted to do my duty," said the Sergeant, taking off his hat, and
+holding down his head.
+
+"Because you are a sergeant, you wanted to show your authority," said
+Paul. "Now go about your business, all of you, and when I get to General
+Pillow's head-quarters I will see to your case."
+
+The soldiers who had gathered round started off at once to their work,
+while Paul walked towards Fort Donelson. He had gone but a few steps,
+when the Sergeant followed him, and, taking off his hat, said, "Please,
+Colonel, don't be too hard on me, I won't do so again."
+
+"It will be my duty to report you; but if you will promise to be more
+careful in the future I will tell the General when I make my report not
+to be too hard," said Paul.
+
+"I'll be more _keerful_ next time, and won't get drunk again, Colonel,
+never."
+
+"Very well," said Paul, walking on till he reached a piece of woods;
+then, turning from the path, he made his way towards the river again,
+wondering at his escape. He had a long walk through the woods, but when
+he reached the gunboats lying in the stream, how his heart leaped for
+joy!
+
+He kept all he had seen so well in memory, that when he reached Cairo he
+was able to draw an accurate plan of the forts and country around them.
+
+General Grant listened to his story with great interest, and when Paul
+had finished said, "You have performed your work acceptably; you
+understand topography; I wish to keep you at my head-quarters, and
+therefore appoint you a Lieutenant of Engineers."
+
+It was so unexpected a promotion, and such an expression of confidence,
+that Paul was very much confused, and could only say, while blushing
+very red, "I thank you, sir."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+MISSED FROM HOME.
+
+
+How lonesome it was in New Hope through all these days! Everybody missed
+Paul. He was missed by the school-children, for the teacher who
+succeeded him was cross and harsh, while Paul was always kind and
+pleasant. He was missed by the congregation on Sunday, for although Hans
+did his best as leader of the choir, he could not fill Paul's place. He
+was missed by his mother, who, through the long, wearisome days and
+lonely nights, thought only of him, her pride, her joy, her hope. How
+good Azalia was to visit the Post-office every morning to get the
+letters which Paul wrote to his mother, often finding one for herself!
+How pleasant to read what he wrote of life in camp! How thrilling the
+narrative of his adventures, his visit to the forts, his narrow escapes!
+As she read it, her heart stood still while the letter was wet with
+tears. What if the rebels had hung him! It was terrible to think of.
+What could she do to comfort him? How help him,--how relieve his
+sufferings and hardships? She would knit him a pair of gloves and
+stockings. But his comrades needed them as well as he. Why not ask
+Daphne to help? Why not ask all the girls to do something? So she
+thought the matter over through the long winter nights, planning a
+soldiers' sewing and knitting society.
+
+Pleasant gatherings they had in the vestry of the church on Wednesday
+afternoons working for the soldiers. Azalia's cheeks were flushed with
+rare beauty when she read Paul's letters to them with trembling voice.
+There were many moist eyes, for all felt that, if he and his comrades
+were undergoing such hardships and dangers for them, that they might
+have a home and a united country, they ought to do all they could in
+return; and so, while knitting stockings for the soldiers, their hearts
+were knit in deeper love and devotion to their country.
+
+But they had something besides Paul's adventures to talk about; for one
+Monday morning when Mr. Bond, the town treasurer, opened his office, he
+found that it had been entered by robbers, who had stolen all the
+money,--several thousand dollars. It was soon discovered that Philip
+Funk was missing. The sheriffs and constables set themselves to hunt
+him up. They got upon his track, followed him to the Ohio River, and
+across into Kentucky; but he was too swift for them, and succeeded in
+getting into the Rebel lines with the stolen money. Notwithstanding he
+was a robber, his sister Fanny held her head as high as ever. She did
+not attend the soldiers' aid society. She hoped that the South would
+succeed in establishing its independence, and was glad that Philip had
+gone to help the Southern soldiers. "I hope he will come across Paul,"
+said Fanny to Daphne Dare one day.
+
+"So do I, and I hope that Paul will shoot him," said Daphne, with
+flashing eyes. She had the spirit of her father, and added, "He is a
+traitor and a robber, and I hope somebody will shoot him."
+
+Fanny spit at the flag which hung over the street every time she passed
+it, to show her hatred of it. Daphne was very indignant, and proposed to
+her associates that they should compel Fanny to wave the stars and
+stripes; but Azalia said it would be a severer punishment to take no
+notice of her. "We might make her wave the flag, but that would not make
+her love it, and such forced loyalty would be of no value."
+
+So, acting upon Azalia's advice, all of the girls passed her by, taking
+no notice of her on the street, at the Post-office, or in church, not
+recognizing her by word or look. Fanny bore it awhile with a brazen
+face, but soon found it hard to have no one to speak to. The great want
+of the human heart in time of trouble is sympathy. Our wills may bear us
+up awhile, but sooner or later we must unburden our feelings, or feel
+the burning of a slow consuming fire, destroying all our peace and
+happiness. The days were cheerless to Fanny. If she walked out upon the
+street, she saw only the averted faces of her former friends. They would
+not speak to her, and if she addressed them they turned away without
+answering,--avoiding her as if she was infected with the plague. When
+the cold northeast storms came, when the clouds hung low upon the hills,
+when the wind howled in the woods, when the rain pattered upon the
+withered leaves, how lonesome the hours! She was haughty and
+self-willed, friendless and alone; but instead of becoming loyal and
+behaving like a good, sensible girl, she nursed her pride; and comforted
+herself by thinking that her great-grandfather Funk was a fine old
+Virginian gentleman. If a still, small voice whispered that it was mean
+and wicked in Philip to take money which did not belong to him, she
+quieted her conscience by the reflection that it was right for the
+Rebels to do all the damage they could to their enemies in securing
+their independence. When the storm was loudest, she rejoiced in the hope
+that some of the Yankee ships would be wrecked, or that the Mississippi
+River would overflow its bank and drown the Yankee regiments in their
+camps.
+
+Not so did Azalia listen to the storm. When the great drops rattled upon
+the roof and dashed against the windows, she thought of Paul and his
+comrades as rushing into battle amid volleys of musketry; the mournful
+sighing of the wind was like the wailing of the wounded. She thought of
+him as marching wearily and alone through the dismal forest to perform
+deeds of daring; she thought of him as keeping watch through the stormy
+nights, cold, wet, hungry, and weary; not for glory, or fame, or hope of
+reward, but because it was his duty. And these were not sad hours to
+her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE MARCH.
+
+
+On Wednesday, the 12th of February, 1862, Paul found himself once more
+upon the road leading from Fort Henry to Fort Donelson, not now alone,
+but guiding an army of fifteen thousand men, with forty pieces of
+artillery. He was on horseback, and sat so well in the saddle that the
+cavalry-men said he rode like an old trooper. He was in uniform, and
+wore straps on his shoulders, and was armed with a sword and a revolver.
+He rode in advance of all, looking sharply into the thickets and down
+the ravines, to see if there were any Rebels in ambush.
+
+The sharpshooters followed him. They wore gray jackets and skull-caps,
+and were armed with rifles and long hunting-knives. They were famous
+hunters, and could shoot a deer upon the run, or bring down a
+prairie-chicken upon the wing. They were tough, hearty, jolly,
+courageous, daring fellows. They were in good spirits, for the rebels
+had fled in dismay from Fort Henry when the gunboats sent their shells
+into the fort.
+
+It was a hard march, for the roads were muddy, and they were obliged to
+wade through creeks although it was mid-winter. Paul noticed one brave
+fellow among them, whose feet were so sore that his steps were marked
+with blood, which oozed from a hole in the side of his shoe, and yet the
+man kept his place in the ranks.
+
+"Let me carry your gun," said Paul, and so, taking it across his saddle,
+helped the soldier. "You ought to be in the hospital," said Paul.
+
+"I can't stay behind if there is to be any fighting," said the soldier,
+thanking Paul for his kindness; and then, in a low tone, the soldier
+said to his comrade, "There a'n't many officers like him who will help a
+fellow."
+
+At sunset the army halted in the woods beside a brook. Tents had been
+left behind, and the soldiers had no shelter from the wintry air. They
+cut down great trees and kindled huge fires. The farmers in that part of
+the country had large herds of pigs, which roamed the woods and lived on
+nuts. The soldiers had lived on salt meats for many months, and,
+notwithstanding orders had been issued against committing depredations,
+they were determined to have a good supper. Crack! crack! crack! went
+their rifles. Some, instead of shooting, tried to catch the pigs. There
+were exciting chases, and laughable scenes,--a dozen men after one pig,
+trying to seize him by the ears, or by the hind legs, or by the tail.
+
+They had a charming time, sitting around the roaring fires, inhaling the
+savory odors of the steaks and spareribs broiling and roasting over the
+glowing coals on forked sticks, and of the coffee bubbling in their tin
+cups. The foot-sore sharpshooter whom Paul had helped on the march
+cooked a choice and tender piece, and presented it to Paul on a chip,
+for they had no plates. It was cooked so nicely that Paul thought he had
+never tasted a more delicious morsel.
+
+In the morning they had an excellent breakfast, and then resumed the
+march, moving slowly and cautiously through the woods, but finding no
+enemy till they came in sight of Fort Donelson.
+
+Paul had guided the army to the fort, but now he had other duties to
+perform. He was required to make a sketch of the ground around the fort,
+that General Grant might know where to form his lines,--on what hills
+to plant his cannon,--where to throw up breastworks for defence, should
+the rebels see fit to come out and attack him. Leaving his horse behind,
+Paul began his dangerous but important work on foot, that he might make
+an accurate map,--examining through his field-glass the breastworks of
+the rebels, counting their cannon, and beholding them hard at work. When
+night came he crept almost up to their lines. He was between the two
+armies,--a dangerous position, for the pickets on both sides were wide
+awake, and his own comrades might fire upon him before he could give the
+countersign. Although he stepped lightly, the sticks sometimes crackled
+beneath his feet.
+
+"Halt! Who goes there?" shouted a Rebel picket directly in front of him.
+It was so sudden, and he was so near, that Paul's hair stood on end. He
+darted behind a tree. Click! flash! bang! and a bullet came with a heavy
+_thug_ into the tree. Bang! went another gun,--another,--and another;
+and the pickets all along the rebel lines, thinking that the Yankees
+were coming, blazed away at random. The Yankee pickets, thinking that
+the rebels were advancing, became uneasy and fired in return. Paul
+could hear the bullets spin through the air and strike into the trees.
+His first thought was to get back to his comrades as soon as possible;
+then he reflected that it would be dangerous to attempt it just then.
+The firing woke up all the sleepers in the two armies. The drums were
+beating the long roll, the bugles were sounding, and he could hear the
+Rebel officers shouting to the men, "Fall in! fall in!" He laughed to
+think that the crackling of a stick had produced all this uproar. He
+wanted very much to join in the fun, and give the Rebel picket who had
+fired at him a return shot, but his orders were not to fire even if
+fired upon, for General Grant was not ready for a battle, and so, while
+the Rebels were reloading their guns, he glided noiselessly away. When
+he heard the bullets singing he expected to be hit; but as he was less
+than six feet high and only eighteen inches across his shoulders, and as
+it was dark and the soldiers were firing at random, he calculated that
+there was not one chance in a million of his being injured, and so
+through the night he went on with his reconnoissance along the lines,
+and completed the work assigned him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE BATTLE.
+
+
+In the morning he found General Grant in a little old farm-house, where
+he had established his head-quarters. He appeared to be pleased with the
+map which Paul made of the ground, and said to Major Cavender, who
+commanded the regiment of Missouri Artillery, "Place your guns on that
+hill, and be ready to open upon the fort." He issued orders to General
+McClernand to go round to the southwest side of the town; to General
+Wallace, to hold the centre of the line, west of the town; and to
+General Smith, to be ready to storm the fort on the northwest side.
+
+It was a beautiful morning. The air was mild, and the birds sang in the
+trees though it was mid-winter. The sharpshooters ate their breakfast
+before sunrise, and began the battle by exchanging shots with the Rebel
+pickets. Though Paul had been up all night, there was no time for rest.
+He was sent with orders to the artillery officers,--to Captain Taylor,
+Captain Dresser, and Captain Schwartz, telling them where to place their
+guns. As he rode over the hills and through the ravines, he passed the
+sharpshooters. Their rifles were cracking merrily. Among them was the
+soldier whom Paul had helped on the march. The soldier saluted him. Paul
+saw that he was not only foot-sore, but also sick.
+
+"You are not fit to go into battle; you ought to report to the surgeon,"
+said Paul.
+
+"I wouldn't miss of being in this scrimmage that we are going to have
+to-day for the best farm in Illinois," said the soldier.
+
+Just then, the rebel cannon opened, and the shells came crashing through
+the front. Major Cavender had wheeled his guns into position, and was
+sighting them. One of the shells struck at his feet, and ploughed a deep
+furrow in the ground. Another struck a poor fellow in the breast,
+whirled him into the air, spattering his blood upon those who stood
+around, killing him instantly. As Paul beheld the quivering flesh, the
+sight filled him with horror, and made him sick at heart. Such might be
+his fate before the day was done. He thought of home,--of his mother, of
+Azalia, and of the dear friends far away. He thought also of God, and
+the hereafter; but remembered that he was in the keeping of his Heavenly
+Father. He was there to do his duty, and if he was to meet with death,
+would meet it resolutely; and so, regaining his composure, rode calmly
+along the lines, acting as aid to General Grant doing the duties
+assigned him.
+
+The battle lasted through the day, but the fort was not taken. The
+gunboats which were to sail up the Cumberland River had not arrived, and
+the provisions which the troops brought from Fort Henry were nearly
+exhausted. The day which had been so bright and beautiful was succeeded
+by a dreary night. The wind blew from the northeast. A rainstorm set in,
+which changed to snow, and became one of the severest storms ever known
+in that section of the country. It was a terrible night for the wounded.
+They had no protection from the storm. Hundreds had fallen during the
+day. Some were lying where they fell, close up under the Rebel
+breastworks, amid the tangled thickets, the blood oozing from their
+wounds and staining the drifting snow. It was heart-rending to hear
+their wailings, and cries of distress, and calls for help. When morning
+came, many a brave soldier was frozen to the ground. When Paul saw the
+terrible suffering, he felt that he was willing to make any sacrifice to
+put a stop to such horrors. But then he remembered that Justice, Truth,
+and Righteousness are more valuable than human life, and that it is
+better to fight for them than to yield to injustice and wickedness.
+
+But now the hearts of the soldiers were cheered with the news that the
+gunboats were coming. Paul looked down the river and saw a cloud of
+black smoke hanging over the forest, rising from their tall chimneys.
+Steamboats loaded with provisions came with the fleet. The soldiers
+swung their caps, and made the air ring with their lusty cheers.
+
+What a magnificent sight it was when the gunboats steamed up the river
+and opened fire upon the fort, covering themselves with clouds of smoke
+and flame, and all of the guns in the fort replying! The storm had died
+away, the air was still, and the roar of the cannonade was like thunder.
+All along the lines the sharpshooters' rifles were ringing. The soldiers
+crouched behind trees and logs and hillocks, lying on their faces,
+picking off the Rebel gunners when they attempted to load their cannon.
+But the day passed and the fort was not taken. Saturday morning came,
+and the Rebels, finding themselves short of provisions, instead of
+waiting to be attacked, came out from the fort at daybreak, fifteen
+thousand strong, and made a sudden attack upon the Union army.
+
+A great battle followed, which lasted nearly all day. Thousands were
+killed and wounded. Paul was obliged to ride all over the field,
+carrying orders to the different generals, while the bullets fell like
+hailstones around him. Cannon-balls flew past him, shells exploded over
+his head, men fell near him, but he was unharmed. He saw with grief his
+comrades overpowered and driven, and could hardly keep back the tears
+when he saw the Rebels capture some of Captain Schwartz's guns. But when
+the infantry gave way and fled panic-stricken along the road towards
+Fort Henry, throwing away their muskets, his indignation was aroused.
+
+"Stop! or I'll shoot you," he said, drawing his revolver.
+
+"A'n't you ashamed of yourselves, you cowards?" shouted one brave
+soldier.
+
+Paul looked round to see who it was, and discovered his friend the
+sharpshooter, who thus aided him in rallying the fugitives. Blood was
+dripping from his fingers. A ball had passed through one arm, but he had
+tied his handkerchief over the wound, and was on his way back to the
+lines to take part once more in the battle. Paul thanked the noble
+fellow for helping him, and then, with the aid of other officers, they
+rallied the fugitives till reinforcements came.
+
+Onward came the Rebels, flushed with success, and thinking to win a
+glorious victory; but they were cut down with shells and canister, and
+by the volleys of musketry which were poured upon them. It was with
+great satisfaction that Paul saw the shells tear through the Rebel
+ranks; not that he liked to see men killed, but because he wanted Right
+to triumph over Wrong. Again and again the Rebels marched up the hill,
+but were as often swept back by the terrible fire which burst from
+Captain Wood's, Captain Willard's, Captain Taylor's, and Captain
+Dresser's batteries. The little brook which trickled through the ravine
+at the foot of the hill was red with the blood of the slain. It was a
+fearful sight. But the Rebels at last gave up the attempt to drive the
+Union troops from the hill, and went back into the fort. Then in the
+afternoon there was a grand charge upon the Rebel breastworks. With a
+wild hurrah they carried the old flag across the ravine, and up the hill
+beyond, over fallen trees and through thick underbrush. Men dropped from
+the ranks in scores, but on--on--on they went, driving the Rebels,
+planting the stars and stripes on the works; and though the Rebel
+regiments in the fort rained solid shot and shell and grape and canister
+and musket-balls upon them, yet they held the ground through the long,
+weary, dreary winter night. When the dawn came, the dawn of Sunday, they
+saw a white flag flung out from the parapet of the fort, and they knew
+that the enemy had surrendered. What a cheer they gave! They swung their
+hats, sang songs, and danced for joy. How beautifully the stars and
+stripes waved in the morning breeze! How proudly they marched into the
+fort and into the town,--the drums beating, the bugles sounding, and the
+bands playing!
+
+But how horrible the sight upon the field when the contest was
+over,--the dead, some cold and ghastly, others still warm with departing
+life, lying with their faces toward heaven, smiling as if only asleep!
+The ground was strewn with guns, knapsacks, and blood-stained garments;
+the snow had changed to crimson. Many wounded were lying where they
+fell, some whose lives were ebbing away calmly waiting the coming of
+death. As Paul walked over the field he came upon one lying with clasped
+hands and closed eyes, whose blood was flowing from a ghastly wound in
+his breast. As Paul stopped to gaze a moment upon a countenance which
+seemed familiar, the soldier opened his eyes and smiled; then Paul saw
+that it was the brave sharpshooter whom he had helped on the march, who,
+though sick, would not go into the hospital, though wounded, would not
+leave the field, and had aided him in rallying the fugitives. He had
+fought gallantly through the battle, and received his death-wound in the
+last grand charge.
+
+"I am glad you have come, for I know that one who was kind enough to
+help a poor fellow on the march will be willing to do one thing more,"
+said the soldier, faintly.
+
+"Certainly. What can I do for you?"
+
+"Not much, only I would like to have you overhaul my knapsack for me."
+
+Paul unstrapped the knapsack from the soldier's back, and opened it.
+
+"There is a picture in there which I want to look at once more before I
+die. You will find it in my Bible."
+
+Paul handed him the Bible.
+
+"My mother gave me this blessed book the day I left home to join the
+army. It was her last gift. I promised to read it every day, and I would
+like to have you write to her and tell her that I have kept my promise.
+Tell her that I have tried to do my duty to my country and to my God. I
+would like to live, but am not afraid to die, and am not sorry that I
+enlisted. Write to my sister. She is a sweet girl,--I can see her
+now,--a bright-eyed, light-hearted, joyous creature. O, how she will
+miss me! Tell her to plant a rose-bush in the garden and call it my
+rose, that little Eddie, when he grows up, may remember that his eldest
+brother died for his country. They live away up in Wisconsin."
+
+He took a photograph from the Bible. It was the picture of a
+dark-haired, black-eyed, fair-featured girl, and he gazed upon it till
+the tears rolled down his cheeks. He drew his brawny hand across his
+face and wiped them away, but the effort started the bright blood
+flowing in a fresher stream. "It is hard to part from her. She promised
+to be my wife when I came home from the war," he said, and touched it to
+his lips, then gazed again till his sight grew dim. He laid it with the
+Bible on his breast.
+
+Paul wiped the cold sweat from the soldier's brow.
+
+"God bless you," he whispered, and looked up and smiled. His eyes
+closed, and the slowly heaving heart stood still. He was gone to the
+land where the Faithful and True receive their just reward.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+SHOWING WHAT HE WAS MADE OF.
+
+
+There came a Sabbath morning,--one of the loveliest of all the year. The
+sun rose upon a cloudless sky, the air was laden with the fragrance of
+locust and alder blossoms, the oaks of the forest were changing from the
+gray of winter to the green of summer. Beneath their wide-spread
+branches were the tents of a great army; for after the capture of Fort
+Donelson the troops sailed up the Tennessee, and were preparing to
+attack the Rebels at Corinth.
+
+Paul was lying in his tent, thinking of home, of the calmness and
+stillness there, broken only by the chirping of the sparrows and robins,
+the church-bell, the choir, and the low voices of the congregation. How
+different from what was passing around him, where the drummers were
+beating the reveille! He was startled from his waking dream by a sudden
+firing out among the pickets. What could it mean? It grew more furious.
+There was confusion. He sprang to his feet and looked out to see what
+was the matter. Soldiers were running through the camp.
+
+"What is the row?" he asked.
+
+"The Rebels are attacking us."
+
+It did not take him long to dress; but, while pulling on his boots, a
+bullet tore through the tent-cloth over his head.
+
+The camp was astir. Officers shouted, "Fall in!" Soldiers, waking from
+sound sleep, buckled on their cartridge-boxes, seized their guns, and
+took their places in the ranks before they were fairly awake. The
+drummers beat the long-roll, the buglers sounded the signal for saddling
+horses, the artillery-men got their guns ready, cavalry-men leaped into
+their saddles, baggage-wagons went thundering towards the river. There
+was a volley of musketry, and then a deeper roar from the artillery, and
+the terrible contest of the day began, which became more terrific from
+morning till noon, from noon till night, with deafening rolls of
+musketry, with the roaring of a hundred cannon, with the yelling of the
+Rebels and the cheering of the soldiers of the Union, as the tempest
+surged through the forest, up and down the ravines, around Shiloh
+church, in the old cotton-fields, up to the spring where the country
+people were accustomed to eat their Sunday dinners, down to the
+Tennessee River, where the gunboats were waiting for the hour when they
+could open with their great guns.
+
+Paul was in the storm, riding through the leaden hail which fell all
+around him, pattering upon the dead leaves, cutting down the twigs of
+the hazel-bushes, and scarring the trees,--riding along the lines
+carrying messages to General Sherman, who was fighting like a tiger by
+the church, with the bullets piercing his clothes,--to McClernand, who
+was near by,--to Wallace, to Prentice, to Hurlburt, to Stuart,--riding
+where shells were bursting, where solid shot cut off great branches from
+the trees, splintered the trunks, ploughed the ground, whirled men and
+horses into the air, tearing them limb from limb, and then passed away
+with weird howlings. He breathed the thick smoke as it belched from the
+cannon's mouth, and felt the hot flashes on his face. He stood beside
+his commander, General Grant, while waiting for orders, and beheld him
+when tidings of disaster were brought in,--that General Prentice and
+hundreds of his men were captured,--that the line was broken, and the
+men were falling back. He could hear the triumphant shouts of the
+Rebels.
+
+Yet amid it all he saw that General Grant was cool and collected. "We
+will whip them yet," he said. Paul felt stronger after that, and
+resolved to die rather than be beaten. But how slowly dragged the hours!
+The sun seemed to stand still in the western sky. How hard to see the
+poor wounded men, thousands of them, borne to the rear, their feet
+crushed, their legs broken, their arms torn and mangled, and to know
+that there were other thousands lying upon the ground where they had
+fallen, and the strife still going on around them! Other thousands who
+were not wounded were leaving the ranks, exhausted and disheartened.
+
+"Lieutenant Parker, you will select a line along this ravine, throw up
+such defences as you can, bring up those thirty-two pounders from the
+river, and put them in position. They can't cross this. We will beat
+them here," said General Grant.
+
+Sometimes in battle minutes are of priceless value; momentous decisions
+must be made at once. Then men show what they are made of. Those are
+the trial moments of life. Paul galloped along the ravine. He saw that
+it was wide and deep, and that, if the Rebels could be kept from
+crossing it, the battle would be won; for it was their object to reach
+the steamboat-landing, where General Grant had all his supplies of food.
+There were five great iron cannon at the landing. There, also, crouching
+under the river-bank, to avoid the shot and shell, were thousands of
+fugitives, who had become disheartened, and who had left their comrades
+to be overpowered and driven back. He saw the situation of affairs in an
+instant. His brain was clear. He made up his mind instantly what to do.
+
+"Here, you--men!" he shouted. "Each of you shoulder one of those empty
+pork-barrels, and carry it up the bluff." But not a man stirred. His
+indignation was aroused; but he knew that it was not a time for
+argument. He drew his revolver, pointed it at a group, and said, "Start!
+or I'll shoot you." It was spoken so resolutely that they obeyed. He
+told them how, if they could hold that position, the Rebels would be
+defeated,--how a few minutes of resolute work would save the army. He
+saw their courage revive. They dug a trench, cut down trees, rolled up
+logs, filled the barrels with dirt, and worked like beavers. Others
+wheeled up the great guns, and Paul put them into position. Others
+brought shot and shell, and laid them in piles beside the guns. The
+storm was coming nearer. The lines were giving way. Regiments with
+broken ranks came straggling down the road.
+
+"Bring all the batteries into position along the ravine," said General
+Grant. Away flew half a dozen officers with the orders, and the
+batteries, one after another, came thundering down the road,--the horses
+leaping, the artillery-men blackened and begrimed, yet ready for another
+fight.
+
+"Get anybody you can to work the thirty-twos," said Colonel Webster, the
+chief of artillery, to Paul.
+
+"I can sight a cannon," said a surgeon, who was dressing wounds in the
+hospital. He laid down his bandages, went up and patted one of the guns,
+as if it were an old friend, ran his eye along the sights, and told the
+gunners what to do.
+
+It was sunset. All day long the battle had raged, and the Union troops
+had been driven. The Rebels were ready for their last grand charge,
+which they hoped would give them the victory. Onward they came down the
+steep bank opposite, into the ravine. The Union batteries were ready for
+them,--Captain Silversparre with his twenty-pounders, Captain Richardson
+and Captain Russell with their howitzers, Captain Stone with his
+ten-pounders, Captain Taylor, Captain Dresser, Captain Willard, and
+Lieutenant Edwards,--sixty or more cannon in all. A gunner was lacking
+for one of the great iron thirty-twos. Paul sprang from his horse, and
+took command of the piece.
+
+The long lines of the Rebels came into view. "Bang! bang! bang! bang!"
+went the guns. Then half a dozen crashed at once,--the great thirty-twos
+thundering heavier than all the others. Shells, solid shot, and canister
+tore through the ravine, rolling back the Rebel lines, drenching the
+hillsides with blood, turning the brook to crimson, and the fresh young
+leaves to scarlet. O the wild commotion,--the jarring of the earth, the
+deep reverberations rolling far away, and the shouts of the cannoneers!
+
+"Give them canister!" shouted Paul to the cannoneers, and the terrible
+missiles went screaming down the ravine. The bullets were falling
+around him, singing in his ears, but he heeded them not. But O how
+painful it was to see a brother officer torn to pieces by his side! Then
+how glorious to behold, through the rifts in the battle-cloud, that the
+Rebels were flying in confusion through the woods. Then there came a
+cheer. General Nelson had arrived with reinforcements, and Buell's whole
+army was near. The thirty-two-pounders, the howitzers, and the batteries
+had saved the day, and the victory was won. And now, as night came on,
+the gunboats joined, throwing eleven-inch shells into the woods among
+the Rebel troops, which added discomfiture to defeat. And when the
+uproar, the noise, and the confusion had died away, how good to thank
+God for the victory, and for the preservation of his life! How
+gratifying to receive the thanks of his commander on the field,--to be
+mentioned as one who had done his duty faithfully, and who was deserving
+of promotion!
+
+After the battle he was made a captain, and had greater responsibilities
+resting upon him. He was called upon to take long rides, with the
+cavalry, on expeditions into the enemy's country. Sometimes he found
+himself alone in the dark woods of Mississippi, threading the narrow
+paths, swimming rivers, wading creeks, plunging into swamps,--at other
+times, with his comrades, sweeping like a whirlwind through the Southern
+towns, in pursuit of the retreating foe, riding day and night, often
+without food, but occasionally having a nice supper of roast chicken
+cooked by the bivouac-fire in the forest. Sometimes he spread his
+blanket beneath the grand old trees, and had a rest for the night; and
+often, when pursued by the enemy, when there was no time to stop and
+rest, he slept in his saddle, and dreamed of home. So he spent the
+months which followed that terrible battle, obtaining information which
+was of inestimable value. Thus he served his country,--at Corinth, at
+Memphis, and at Vicksburg, where, through the long, hot, weary, sickly
+months, the brave soldiers toiled, building roads, cutting trenches,
+digging ditches, excavating canals, clearing forests, erecting
+batteries, working in mud and water, fighting on the Yazoo, and at last,
+under their great leader, sweeping down the west side of the
+Mississippi, crossing the river, defeating the enemy in all the battles
+which followed, then closing in upon the town and capturing it, after
+months of hardship and suffering. How hard this work! how laborious,
+and wearing, and dangerous!
+
+Paul found little time to rest. It was his duty to lay out the work for
+the soldiers, to say where the breastworks should be thrown up, where
+the guns should be placed in position. In the dark nights he went out
+beyond the picket-lines and examined the hills and ravines, while the
+bullets of the Rebel sharpshooters were flying about his ears, and in
+the daytime he was riding along the lines while the great guns were
+bellowing, to see if they were in the best position, and were doing
+their proper work. At length there came a morning when the Rebels raised
+a white flag, and Vicksburg surrendered. It was the glorious reward for
+all their hardship, toil, suffering, and endurance. How proudly the
+soldiers marched into the city, with drums beating, bands playing, and
+all their banners waving! It was the Fourth of July, the most joyful day
+of all the year. There were glad hearts all over the land,--ringing of
+bells and firing of cannon, songs of praise and thanksgivings; for not
+only at Vicksburg, but at Gettysburg, the soldiers of the Union had won
+a great victory.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+HONOR TO THE BRAVE.
+
+
+Paul's mother lived alone, and yet she was not without company; for the
+bees and the humming-birds buzzing among the flowers, the old clock
+ticking steadily, the cat purring in the sunshine, were her constant
+friends through the long summer days. And every morning Azalia came in
+and read the news. Pleasant the sound of her approaching step! Ever
+welcome her appearance! Winsome her smile! How beautiful upon her cheek
+the deepening bloom of a guileless heart!
+
+"Good news!" she exclaimed one morning, as she entered, with glowing
+countenance and sparkling eyes, tossing aside her hat.
+
+"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Parker asked.
+
+Azalia replied by opening a newspaper, and reading that "Captain Paul
+Parker, who had been acting as major, was promoted to be a colonel for
+meritorious and distinguished services at Vicksburg."
+
+"I am glad he has served his country so faithfully," said Mrs Parker,
+pleased and gratified, and proud of her son.
+
+"Who knows but that he may be a general yet?" said Azalia, triumphantly.
+"We are going to have a jubilee this afternoon over the victories," she
+added. She could stop no longer, for she was to take part in the jubilee
+with Daphne, and hastened away to prepare for the occasion.
+
+All New Hope turned out to rejoice over the glorious news. Farmers came
+with their wagons loaded with things for the soldiers,--bottles of wine,
+jars of jellies and preserves, for there were thousands of wounded in
+the hospitals. Those who could not contribute such things were ready to
+give money, for their hearts were overflowing with gratitude. Old men
+came, leaning on their staves or supported by their children, with the
+fires of youth rekindling in their souls. Mothers were there, for they
+had sons in the service. Paul was not the only soldier who had gone from
+New Hope. A score had enlisted. Old folks, young folks, all the people
+of the place were there, in the old church.
+
+The evening train came thundering along the railroad, stopping long
+enough to leave Paul, who had unexpectedly been ordered to duty in
+Tennessee with General Rosecrans. He was granted a week's leave of
+absence. There was no one at the depot. He wondered at the silence in
+the streets. Houses and stores and shops were all closed. He passed up
+the hill to his old home; but his mother was not there, and the door was
+fast. The cat was lying upon the step, and purred him a welcome. The
+bees were humming over the flower-beds, and the swallows twittered
+merrily upon the roof of the house. The remembrance of his boyhood came
+back, and he was a child again amid the flowers.
+
+He noticed that the people were around the church, and passed on to see
+what had called them together.
+
+"Why, that is Paul Parker, as true as I am alive!" said Mr. Chrome, as
+he approached the church.
+
+The little boys caught it up, and cried, "Paul has come! Paul has come!"
+and looked wonderingly at his blue uniform, and the eagle on his
+shoulders. It was buzzed through the church that he had come. Judge
+Adams, who was on the platform, and who was chairman of the meeting,
+said: "It gives me great pleasure to announce the arrival of our
+esteemed fellow-citizen, Colonel Parker, who has so nobly distinguished
+himself in the service of our country."
+
+"Three cheers for Colonel Parker!" shouted Mr. Chrome, and the people,
+glad to see him, and brimming over with joy for the victories, sprang to
+their feet and hurrahed and stamped till the windows rattled. Judge
+Adams welcomed him to the platform, and Father Surplice, Colonel Dare,
+and Esquire Capias rose and shook hands with him. Esquire Capias was
+making a speech when Paul entered; but he left off suddenly, saying: "I
+know that you want to hear from Colonel Parker, and it will give me
+greater pleasure to listen to him than to talk myself."
+
+Then there were cries for Paul.
+
+"It is not necessary for me to introduce Colonel Parker on this
+occasion," said Judge Adams. "He is our fellow-citizen; this is his
+home. He has honored himself and us. We have been trying to be eloquent
+over the great victories; but the eloquence of speech is very poor when
+compared with the eloquence of action." Then turning to Paul, he said:
+"What you and your comrades have done, Sir, will be remembered through
+all coming time."
+
+"We tried to do our duty, and God gave us the victory," said Paul. He
+stood before them taller and stouter than when he went away. He was
+sunburnt; but his countenance was noble and manly, and marked with
+self-reliance. He never had made a speech. He did not know what to say.
+To stand there facing the audience, with his mother, Azalia, Daphne, and
+all his old friends before him, was very embarrassing. It was worse than
+meeting the Rebels in battle. But why should he be afraid? They were all
+his friends, and would respect him if he did the best he could. He would
+not try to be eloquent. He would simply tell them the story of the
+battles; how the soldiers had marched, and toiled, and fought,--not for
+glory, honor, or fame, but because they were true patriots; how he had
+seen them resign themselves to death as calmly as to a night's repose,
+thinking and talking of friends far away, of father, mother, brothers
+and sisters, their pleasant homes, and the dear old scenes, yet never
+uttering a regret that they had enlisted to save their country.
+
+There were moist eyes when he said that; but when he told them of the
+charge at Fort Donelson,--how the troops marched through the snow in
+long, unbroken lines, and with a hurrah went up the hill, over fallen
+trees, and drove the Rebels from their breastworks,--the men swung their
+hats, and shouted, and the women waved their handkerchiefs, and cheered
+as if crazy with enthusiasm.
+
+Then Azalia and Daphne sung the Star-spangled Banner, the congregation
+joining in the chorus. Under the excitement of the moment, Judge Adams
+called for contributions for the soldiers, and the old farmers took out
+their pocket-books. Those who had made up their minds to give five
+dollars gave ten, while Mr. Middlekauf, Hans's father, who thought he
+would give twenty-five, put fifty into the hat.
+
+When the meeting was over, Paul stepped down from the platform, threw
+his arms around his mother's neck and kissed her, and heard her whisper,
+"God bless you, Paul." Then the people came to shake hands with him.
+Even Miss Dobb came up, all smiles, shaking her curls, holding out her
+bony hand, and saying, "I am glad to see you, Colonel Parker. You know
+that I was your old teacher. I really feel proud to know that you have
+acquitted yourself so well. I shall claim part of the honor. You must
+come and take tea with me, and tell me all about the battles," she
+said.
+
+"My leave of absence is short. I shall not have time to make many
+visits; but it will give me great pleasure to call upon those who have
+_always_ been my friends," said Paul, with a look so searching that it
+brought the blood into her faded cheeks.
+
+Hearty the welcome from Azalia and Daphne, and from those who had been
+his scholars, who listened with eager interest to the words which fell
+from his lips. Golden the days and blissful those few hours spent with
+his mother, sitting by her side in the old kitchen; with Daphne and
+Azalia, singing the old songs; with Azalia alone, stealing down the
+shaded walk in the calm moonlight, talking of the changeful past, and
+looking into the dreamy future, the whippoorwills and plovers piping to
+them from the cloverfields, the crickets chirping them a cheerful
+welcome, and the river saluting them with its ceaseless serenade!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+CHICKAMAUGA.
+
+
+Quick the changes. Paul was once more with the army, amid the mountains
+of Tennessee, marching upon Chattanooga with General Rosecrans, tramping
+over Lookout Mountain, and along the Chickamauga.
+
+Then came a day of disaster in September. A great battle began on
+Saturday morning, lasted through Sunday, and closed on Monday. Paul rode
+courageously where duty called him, through the dark woods, along the
+winding river, where the bullets sang, where the shells burst, where
+hundreds of brave men fell. Terrible the contest. It was like a
+thunder-storm among the mountains,--like the growling of the angry surf
+upon the shore of the ocean. How trying, after hours of hard fighting,
+to see the lines waver and behold the Rebels move victoriously over the
+field! with disaster setting in, and to know that all that is worth
+living for is trembling in the scale!
+
+There are such moments in battle. General Rosecrans's army was
+outnumbered. Paul saw the Rebels driving in the centre and turning the
+left flank to cut off all retreat to Chattanooga. The moment for great,
+heroic action had come. He felt the blood leap through his veins as it
+never had leaped before. The Rebel line was advancing up the hill. The
+Union batteries were making ready to leave.
+
+"Stay where you are!" he shouted. "Give them canister! Double shot the
+guns! Quick! One minute now is worth a thousand hours."
+
+"Rally! rally! Don't let them have the guns!" he shouted to the flying
+troops. They were magic words. Men who had started to run came back.
+Those who were about to leave stood in their places, ready to die where
+they were. Five minutes passed; they seemed ages. On--nearer--up to the
+muzzles of the guns came the Rebels; then, losing heart, fled down the
+hill, where hundreds of their comrades lay dying and dead. Their efforts
+to break the line had failed. But once more they advanced in stronger
+force, rushing up the hill. Fearful the din and strife, the shouts and
+yells, the clashing of sabres and bayonets, the roar of the cannon, the
+explosion of shells. Paul found himself suddenly falling, then all was
+dark.
+
+When he came to himself the scene had changed. He was lying upon the
+ground. A soldier, wearing a dirty gray jacket, and with long hair, was
+pulling off his boots, saying, "This Yankee has got a pair of boots
+worth having."
+
+"Hold on! what are you up to?" said Paul.
+
+"Hullo! blue bellie, ye are alive, are ye? Tho't yer was dead. Reckon
+I'll take yer boots, and yer coat tew."
+
+Paul saw how it was: he was wounded, and left on the field. He was in
+the hands of the Rebels; but hardest to bear was the thought that the
+army had been defeated. He was stiff and sore. The blood was oozing from
+a wound in his side. He was burning up with fever. He asked the Rebels
+who were around him for a drink of water; but, instead of moistening his
+parched lips, one pointed his gun at him and threatened to blow out his
+brains. They stripped off his coat and picked his pockets. Around him
+were hundreds of dead men. The day wore away and the night came on. He
+opened his lips to drink the falling dew, and lay with his face towards
+the stars. He thought of his mother, of home, of Azalia, of the angels
+and God. Many times he had thought how sad it must be to die alone upon
+the battle-field, far from friends; but now he remembered the words of
+Jesus Christ: "I will not leave you comfortless. My peace I give unto
+you." Heaven seemed near, and he felt that the angels were not far away.
+He had tried to do his duty. He believed that, whether living or dying,
+God would take care of him, and of his mother. In his soul there was
+sweet peace and composure; but what was the meaning of the strange
+feeling creeping over him, the numbness of his hands, the fluttering of
+his heart? Was it not the coming on of death? He remembered the prayer
+of his childhood, lisped many a time while kneeling by his mother's
+side, and repeated it once more.
+
+               "Now I lay me down to sleep,
+                I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
+                If I should die before I wake,
+                I pray the Lord my soul to take."
+
+The stars were fading. His senses reeled. His eyelids closed, and he lay
+pale, cold, and motionless, among the dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+HOW HE LIVED IN THE MEMORY OF HIS FRIENDS.
+
+
+"Colonel Parker, mortally wounded and left on the field." So read the
+account of the battle in the newspapers,--which told of the disaster to
+the army,--how the lines were broken, how the cannon were lost, how Paul
+was shot through the breast, how, had it not been for General Thomas, it
+would have been a day of utter ruin. Father Surplice went up to the
+little old house to break the sad tidings to Paul's mother, for he could
+best give comfort and consolation in time of affliction.
+
+"I have sad news," he said. She saw it in his face, even before he
+spoke, and knew that something terrible had happened. "A great battle
+has been fought, and God has seen fit that your son should die for his
+country."
+
+She made no outcry, but the tears glistened in her eyes. She wiped them
+away, and calmly replied: "I gave him freely to the country and to God.
+I know that he was a dutiful, affectionate son. I am not sorry that I
+let him go." Then with clasped hands she looked upward, through her
+blinding tears, and thanked God that Paul had been faithful, honest,
+true, and good.
+
+The neighbors came in to comfort her, but were surprised to find her so
+calm, and to hear her say, "It is well."
+
+It was a gloomy day in New Hope,--in the stores and shops, and in the
+school-house, for the children affectionately remembered their old
+teacher. When the sexton tolled the bell, they bowed their heads and
+wept bitter tears. Mr. Chrome laid down his paint-brush and sat with
+folded hands, saying, "I can't work." Colonel Dare dashed a tear from
+his eye, and said, "So slavery takes our noblest and best." He walked
+down to the little old house and said to Mrs. Parker, "You never shall
+want while I have a cent left." Judge Adams came, and with much emotion
+asked, "What can I do for you?"
+
+"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in
+green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters," she replied, so
+calmly that the Judge felt that she was the strong one and he the weak.
+
+When Azalia heard the news the rose-bloom faded from her cheeks and her
+heart stood still. In imagination she saw Paul lying on the ground, with
+blood flowing from his side, enduring dreadful agony, while waiting the
+coming of death. She could hardly think of him as gone, never to return,
+yet the church-bell was tolling mournfully, gone, gone, gone! She
+clasped her hands upon her heart to keep it from bursting.
+
+"Be comforted, my child. He has gone to a better world than this," said
+her mother, sympathizing in her sorrow.
+
+Daphne came in, and bathed Azalia's burning brow, kissed her tenderly,
+and said, "Don't cry, dear."
+
+Azalia was not weeping,--there were no tears in her eyes. God had not
+wiped them all away, but the great and sudden affliction was like the
+heat of a fiery furnace. It had dried the fountains. Though her mother
+and Daphne were so kind and tender, they could not take away her
+heart-ache. It was a weary day. She sat by the window and gazed upon the
+wheat-fields, brown and bare, for it was almost October, and the reapers
+had gathered the grain. Beyond the fields was the river, shrunk to a
+narrow bed by the heats of summer. Dead leaves were floating down the
+stream. Like the _Miserere_ which the choir chanted at the funeral of a
+sweet young girl before Paul went to the army, was the murmuring of the
+water. Beyond the river were green meadows and gardens and orchards,
+where dahlias were blooming, and grapes and apples ripening in the
+mellow sunshine. She thought of Paul as having passed over the river,
+and as walking in the vineyard of the Lord. The summer flowers which she
+had planted in her own garden were faded, the stalks were dry, and the
+leaves withered. They never would bloom again. Like them, the brightness
+of her life had passed away.
+
+Night brought no relief. It seemed as if her heart would break, but she
+remembered what Jesus said: "Come unto me and I will give you rest." She
+told Him all her grief, asked Him to help her, inasmuch as He was able
+to bear the sorrows of all the world. So confiding in Him, she
+experienced indescribable peace of mind.
+
+Then in the evening they who walked along the street stopped and
+listened by the gate to hear the music which floated out through the
+open window, bowing their heads, and in silence wiping away their tears.
+It was the music of the "Messiah," which Handel composed. She sung it in
+church one Sunday before Paul went to the army, and Father Surplice said
+it set him to thinking about the music of heaven; but now to the passers
+in the street it was as if Jesus called them, so sweet and tender was
+the song.
+
+It was consoling to take from her bureau the letters which Paul had
+written, and read again what she had read many times,--to look upon the
+laurel-leaf which he plucked in the woods at Donelson, the
+locust-blossoms which he gathered at Shiloh, the moss-rose which grew in
+a garden at Vicksburg,--to read his noble and manly words of his
+determination to do his duty in all things.
+
+"Life is worth nothing," read one of the letters, "unless devoted to
+noble ends. I thank God that I live in this age, for there never has
+been so great an opportunity to do good. The heroes of all ages, those
+who have toiled and suffered to make the world better, are looking down
+from the past to see if I am worthy to be of their number. I can see the
+millions yet to come beckoning me to do my duty for their sake. They
+will judge me. What answer can I give them if I falter?"
+
+Thus in her sorrow Azalia found some comfort in looking at the faded
+flowers, and in reflecting that he had not faltered in the hour of
+trial, but had proved himself worthy to be numbered with the heroic
+dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+WHAT BECAME OF A TRAITOR.
+
+
+But Paul was not dead. He was in the hands of the enemy. He had been
+taken up from the battle-field while unconscious, put into an ambulance,
+and carried with other wounded to a Rebel hospital.
+
+"We can't do anything for this Yankee," said one of the surgeons who
+looked at his wound.
+
+"No, he will pop off right soon, I reckon," said another; and Paul was
+left to live or die, as it might be.
+
+When he awoke from his stupor he found himself in an old barn, lying on
+a pile of straw. He was weak and faint, and suffered excruciating pain.
+The Rebel soldier had stolen his coat, and he had no blanket to protect
+him from the cold night-winds. He was helpless. His flesh was hot, his
+lips were parched. A fever set in, his flesh wasted away, and his eyes
+became wild, glassy, and sunken. Week after week he lay powerless to
+help himself, often out of his head and talking of home, or imagining
+he was in battle. How long the days! how lonesome the nights! But he had
+a strong constitution, and instead of "popping off," as the surgeon
+predicted, began to get well. Months passed, of pain and agony and weary
+longing. It was sweet relief when he was able to creep out and sit in
+the warm sunshine.
+
+One day a Rebel lieutenant, wearing a gay uniform trimmed with gold
+lace, came past him. Paul saw that he had been drinking liquor, for he
+could not walk straight.
+
+"Why don't you salute me, you Yankee villain?" said the fellow,
+stopping.
+
+Paul was startled at the voice, looked the lieutenant in the face, and
+saw that it was Philip Funk. His face was bloated, and his eyes
+bloodshot. When he fled from New Hope after robbing Mr. Bond, he made
+his way south, joined the Rebels, and was now a lieutenant. Paul was so
+changed by sickness that Philip did not recognize him.
+
+"Why don't you salute me, you dirty Yankee puppy?" said Philip, with an
+oath.
+
+"I don't salute a traitor and a robber," said Paul.
+
+Philip turned pale with anger. "Say that again, and I will cut your
+heart out!" he said, with a horrible oath, raising his sword and
+advancing upon Paul, who stood still and looked him calmly in the eye.
+
+"Cowards only attack unarmed men," said Paul.
+
+"What do you mean, sir, by calling me a robber, traitor, and coward?"
+Philip asked, white with rage, not recognizing Paul.
+
+"I mean that you, Philip Funk, committed robbery at New Hope, ran away
+from home, became a traitor, and now you show yourself to be a coward by
+threatening to cut out the heart of a weak defenceless prisoner."
+
+"Who are you?" stammered Philip.
+
+"My name is Paul Parker. I am a colonel in the service of the United
+States," Paul replied, not recognizing by any familiar act his old
+playmate and school-fellow.
+
+Philip dropped his sword, and stood irresolute and undecided what to do.
+A group of Rebel officers who had been wounded, and were strolling about
+the grounds, saw and heard it all. One was a colonel.
+
+"What do you know about Lieutenant Funk?" he asked.
+
+"He was my schoolmate. He committed robbery and came south to join your
+army," Paul replied.
+
+The Colonel turned to the officers who were with him, and said, "This is
+the fellow who is suspected of stealing from the soldiers, and it is
+said that he skulked at Chickamauga."
+
+"The cuss ought to be reduced to the ranks," said another.
+
+Philip did not stop to hear any more, but walked rapidly away.
+
+The next day he was arrested and brought before a court-martial, tried,
+and found guilty of hiding behind a stump when ordered to make a charge
+in battle, and of stealing money from the soldiers. The court ordered
+that he be stripped of his uniform and reduced to the ranks, and wear
+the "rogue's coat" through the camp. The coat was a flour-barrel,
+without heads, but with holes cut in the sides for his arms.
+
+Philip was brought out upon the parade-ground, deprived of his sword and
+uniform, and compelled to put on the barrel, on which were written the
+words,
+
+COWARD, ROBBER.
+
+Thus, with two soldiers to guard him, with a drummer and fifer playing
+the Rogues' March, he was paraded through the camp. The soldiers hooted
+at him, and asked him all sorts of questions.
+
+"How are you, Bummer?" asked one.
+
+"Did you pay your tailors with the money you stole?" asked another.
+
+"Your coat puckers under the arms and wrinkles in the back," said
+another.
+
+"He felt so big they had to hoop him to keep him from bursting,"
+remarked one, who remembered how pompous Philip had been.
+
+After being marched through the camp, he was set to work with a shovel,
+cleaning up the grounds. It was a sorry day to Philip. He wished he had
+never been born. He was despised alike by officers and soldiers. The
+officers made him do their dirty work, while the soldiers, knowing that
+he had not courage enough to resent an insult, made him the general
+scavenger of the camp. This treatment was so hard to bear that Philip
+thought of deserting; but he knew that if he was caught he would be
+shot, and did not dare to make the attempt. The slaves in the camp
+looked down upon him, and spoke of him as the "meanest sort of Yankee
+white trash." The soldiers turned him out of their tents. "We won't have
+a Yankee thief and coward in our mess," said they, and he was obliged to
+sleep under the trees, or wherever he could find shelter. He became
+dirty and ragged. His clothes dropped from him piece by piece, till he
+had nothing left but rags. He had little to eat. He had no friends. When
+he was sick, no one cared for him. Those were bitter days; but instead
+of being made better at heart by his punishment, he cursed and swore,
+and wished only that he could get whiskey to drink.
+
+Winter set in. There came a cold, stormy night. Philip wandered about
+the camp to keep himself warm. He was weak and faint, and at last,
+tired, exhausted, and his teeth chattering with ague, crawled into a
+wagon, drew his old tattered blanket over his head, and after shivering
+awhile went to sleep. The teamsters found him there in the morning,
+stiff and cold. He had died during the night, with no friend near him, a
+vagabond, an outcast, despised by everybody.
+
+The officer who had charge of the camp, when he heard that Philip was
+dead, called up a couple of soldiers who were in the guard-house for
+getting drunk, and said to them, "You were drunk yesterday, and for a
+punishment I sentence you to bury the camp-scullion who froze to death
+last night."
+
+The teamster harnessed his horses, drove outside of the camp into a
+field, where the two soldiers dug a shallow grave, tumbled the body into
+it, threw back the earth, trampled it down with their feet, shouldered
+their shovels, and went back to camp as unconcerned as if they had
+buried a dog.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+DARK DAYS.
+
+
+When Paul's wound had healed sufficiently to enable him to travel, he
+was put into a freight car with his comrades and sent to the Rebel
+prison at Andersonville. The ride was long and hard, but the prisoners
+bore the jolting without a murmur, for they supposed they would soon be
+exchanged and sent North. They were doomed to bitter disappointment.
+
+The prison was a yard enclosed by a high fence. There was a platform on
+the outside where the sentinels stood on guard, and ready to shoot any
+one who approached nearer than what they called "the dead line." The
+prisoners had no shelter from the scorching rays of the sun through the
+long summer days, nor from the sleety rains and freezing nights of
+winter. They dug holes in the ground with their hands, and made the
+cold, damp earth their bed. A slimy brook ran through the grounds, foul
+with filth from the camps of the Rebels. There was a marsh in the
+centre of the yard, full of rottenness, where the water stood in green
+and stagnant pools, breeding flies, mosquitos, and vermin, where all the
+ooze and scum and slops of the camp came to the surface, and filled the
+air with horrible smells. They had very little food,--nothing but a
+half-pint of coarse corn-meal, a little molasses, and a mouthful of
+tainted bacon and salt, during each twenty-four hours. They were herded
+like sheep. The yard was packed with them. There were more than twenty
+thousand in a place designed for half that number.
+
+When Paul and his comrades reached the prison, they were examined by the
+officer in command, a brutal fellow named Wirz, who robbed them of what
+money they had. The gate opened, and they passed in. When Paul beheld
+the scene, his heart sank within him. He had suffered many hardships,
+but this was an experience beyond everything else. He was still weak. He
+needed nourishing food, but he must eat the corn-meal or starve.
+Everywhere he saw only sickening sights,--pale, woe-begone wretches,
+clothed in filthy rags, covered with vermin. Some were picking up crumbs
+of bread which had been swept out from the bakery. Others were sucking
+the bones which had been thrown out from the cook-house. Some sat gazing
+into vacancy, taking no notice of what was going on around
+them,--dreaming of homes which they never were again to behold. Many
+were stretched upon the ground, too weak to sit up, from whose hearts
+hope had died out, and who were waiting calmly for death to come and
+relieve them from their sufferings. Thousands had died. One hundred died
+on the day Paul entered, and another hundred during the night. All day
+long the bodies lay among the living in the sun. When the dead-cart came
+in, they were thrown into it like logs of wood. It was a horrible
+sight,--the stony eyes, the sunken cheeks, the matted hair, the ghastly
+countenances, the swaying limbs, as the cart jolted along the uneven
+ground! More than thirteen thousand soldiers starved and murdered by the
+Rebels were thus carried out in the dead-carts.
+
+The keepers of the prison were cruel. Paul saw a poor cripple crawl
+towards the fence and reach his hand over the dead line to get a bone.
+Crack went the rifle of the sentinel, which sent a bullet through the
+prisoner's brain, who tossed up his hands, gave one heart-rending
+outcry, and rolled over--dead. On a dark and stormy night some of the
+prisoners escaped, but ferocious dogs were put upon their track, and
+they were recaptured. The hounds mangled them, and the Rebel officers
+had them tied up and whipped, till death put an end to their sufferings.
+
+It was terrible to hear the coughing of those who were dying of
+consumption,--to see them crawling from place to place, searching in
+vain to find a shelter from the driving storms,--to hear the piteous
+cries of those who were racked with pains, or the moans of those who
+gave themselves up to despair. For want of proper food the prisoners
+suffered from scurvy;--their gums rotted, their teeth fell out, and
+their flesh turned to corruption; they wasted away, and died in horrible
+agony. It was so terrible to hear their dying cries, that Paul put his
+fingers in his ears; but soon he became accustomed to the sights and
+sounds, and looked upon the scenes with indifference. He pitied the
+sufferers, but was powerless to aid them. Soon he found that his own
+spirits began to droop. He roused himself, determined to brave out all
+the horrors of the place. He sang songs and told stories, and got up
+games to keep his fellow-prisoners in good heart. But notwithstanding
+all his efforts to maintain his cheerfulness and composure, he felt that
+he was growing weaker. Instead of being robust, he became thin and
+spare. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes sunken. There was a fever in
+his bones. Day by day he found himself taking shorter walks. At night,
+when he curled down in his burrow, he felt tired, although he had done
+no work through the day. In the morning he was stiff, and sore, and
+lame, and although the ground was cold and damp, it was easier to lie
+there than to get up. His hair became matted,--his fingers were long and
+bony. Each day his clothes became more ragged. When he first entered the
+prison, he tried to keep himself clean and free from vermin, but in
+vain. One day he went out to wash his tattered clothes, but the stream
+was so dirty he sat down and waited for it to become clear. He sat hour
+after hour, but it was always the same slimy, sickening stream.
+
+The Rebels took delight in deluding the prisoners with false
+hopes,--telling them that they were soon to be exchanged and sent home;
+but instead of release, the dead-cart went its daily rounds, bearing
+its ghastly burden. That was their exchange, and they looked upon the
+shallow trenches as the only home which they would ever reach. Hope died
+out and despair set in. Some prisoners lost their reason, and became
+raving maniacs, while others became only gibbering idiots. Some who
+still retained their reason, who all their lives had believed that the
+Almighty is a God of justice and truth, began to doubt if there be a
+God. Although they had cried and begged for deliverance, there was no
+answer to their prayers. Paul felt that his own faith was wavering; but
+he could not let go of the instructions he had received from his mother.
+In the darkest hour, when he was most sorely tempted to break out into
+cursing, he was comforted and reassured by Uncle Peter, an old
+gray-headed negro, who had been a slave all his life. Peter had been
+whipped, kicked, and cuffed many times by his hard-hearted, wicked
+master, not because he was unfaithful, but because he loved to pray, and
+shout, and sing. Through the long night, sitting by his pitch-knot fire
+in his cabin, Uncle Peter had sung the songs which lifted him in spirit
+almost up to heaven, whither his wife and children had gone, after cruel
+whippings and scourgings by their master. It was so sweet to think of
+her as having passed over the river of Jordan into the blessed land,
+that he could not refrain from shouting:
+
+               "O my Mary is sitting on the tree of life,
+                  To see the Jordan roll;
+                O, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll!
+                I will march the angel march,--
+                I will march the angel march.
+                O my soul is rising heavenward,
+                  To see where the Jordan rolls."
+
+He had given food and shelter to some of the prisoners who escaped from
+the horrible place, and had piloted them through the woods, and for this
+was arrested and thrown into the prison.
+
+Uncle Peter took a great liking to Paul, and, when Paul was
+down-hearted, cheered him by saying: "Never you give up. Don't let go of
+de hand of de good Lord. It is mighty hard to bear such treatment, but
+we colored people have borne it all our lives. But 'pears like my heart
+would break when I think of my children sold down Souf." Uncle Peter
+wiped his eyes with his tattered coat-sleeve, and added: "But de Lord is
+coming to judge de earth with righteousness, and den I reckon de Rebs
+will catch it."
+
+Uncle Peter dug roots and cooked Paul's food for him, for the Rebels
+would not allow them any wood, although there was a forest near the
+prison. Paul could not keep back the tears when he saw how kind Uncle
+Peter was. He thought that he never should weep again, for he felt that
+the fountains of his heart were drying up. Uncle Peter sat by him
+through the long days, fanning him with his old tattered straw hat,
+brushing the flies from his face, moistening his lips with water, and
+bathing his brow. He was as black as charcoal, and had a great nose and
+thick lips,--but notwithstanding all that Paul loved him.
+
+Thus the days and weeks and months went by, Uncle Peter keeping the
+breath of life in Paul's body, while thousands of his comrades died.
+There was no change in prison affairs for the better. There was no hope
+of release, no prospect of deliverance,--no words from home, no cheering
+news, no intelligence, except from other prisoners captured from time to
+time, and sent to the horrible slaughter-pen to become maniacs and
+idiots,--to be murdered,--to die of starvation and rottenness,--to be
+borne out in the dead-cart to the trenches.
+
+Though Paul sometimes was sorely tempted to yield to despondency, there
+were hours when, with clear vision, he looked beyond the horrors of the
+prison to the time when God would balance the scales of justice, and
+permit judgment to be executed, not only upon the fiend Wirz, who had
+charge of the prison, but also upon Jeff Davis and the leaders of the
+rebellion. And though his sufferings were terrible to bear, there was
+not a moment when he was sorry that he had enlisted to save his country.
+So through all the gloom and darkness his patriotism and devotion shone
+like a star which never sets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+CONSECRATION.
+
+
+As the weeks passed by, bringing no intelligence to New Hope that Paul
+was living,--when there was no longer a doubt of his death,--Father
+Surplice held a memorial service. It was on Sunday, and all the people
+were at church. Appropriate for the occasion were the words which he
+read from the New Testament of the widow of Nain,--how, "as Jesus came
+nigh to the city, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his
+mother, and she was a widow; and when the Lord saw her, he had
+compassion on her, and said, 'Weep not!'"
+
+Consoling and comforting were his own words, which sank deep into the
+hearts of the stricken people; and though the good man said, "Weep not!"
+tears dropped from his own eyes, and fell upon the great Bible which lay
+open before him. It was a sad and solemn service. Though the heart of
+the mother was yearning for her son, yet she could say, "The Lord gave,
+and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."
+
+Mrs. Parker still lived in the little old cottage. The neighbors were
+very kind, and she wanted for nothing, for Colonel Dare remembered his
+promise. Peaceful was her life. The birds sang cheerful songs; sweet was
+the humming of the bees, fragrant the flowers in the garden, and steady
+the flowing of the river; and as she listened to the waterfall, she
+thought of Paul as standing by the River of Life. How, then, could she
+mourn for him? Yet she missed him. Sometimes she listened as if to hear
+his footsteps coming up the garden walk. Sometimes her eyes filled with
+tears, as her heart went out to the lonely battle-field where she
+thought him lying. O, if she could but behold him again,--clasp him in
+her arms,--and once more lay her hand upon his brow, and bless him with
+a mother's tenderest love!
+
+But he was gone, and for him she could work no more. His comrades were
+bearing on the flag, upholding it on bloody fields, fighting as he
+fought, suffering as he suffered, needing help and comfort and cheer
+from those at home. There was work to be done for them; so through the
+days she sat in the old kitchen, knitting and sewing for the soldiers,
+wishing that she had half a dozen hands instead of two, that she might
+help them more.
+
+There was one who came to aid her every day,--Azalia, who, in the
+silence and seclusion of her chamber, had looked out upon the yellow
+harvest-fields where the farmers were gathering the first ripe ears of
+seed-corn, and had tried to still the wild commotion in her heart by
+remembering that it was just and right for the Lord of the harvest to
+gather his "choicest grains." Down on the lowlands by the river the
+nurserymen were selecting their fairest trees, and transplanting them in
+their orchards on the pleasant hills beyond the stream. Why, then,
+should she complain if the kind Father had seen fit to do the same?
+
+It was consoling to take from her bureau drawer, where her keepsakes
+were stored, the letters which Paul had written, undo the black ribbon
+which she had tied around the package, and read again and again that
+which she almost knew by heart. What manly words were there: "Life is
+worth nothing unless devoted to noble ends. I can see the millions yet
+to come beckoning me to do my duty for their sake. What answer can I
+give them if I falter?"
+
+So read one of the letters. They were words which she could not forget.
+They were written from the trenches before Vicksburg, when the prospects
+of the country were dark and gloomy,--when craven men at home were
+crying, "Peace! Peace! Let us have peace at any price!" forgetting that
+there can be no reconcilement between right and wrong. Paul had
+sacrificed everything--life itself--for the sake of those who were to
+come after him,--for Truth and Justice. She thought of him as asleep
+beneath the sod of the battle-field where he fell,--of all that was
+mortal lying there, but of his soul as having passed up into heaven,
+perhaps even then beholding her from the celestial sphere. "What answer
+can I give to those who come after me?" The question haunted her through
+the waning days and the lonely nights. What could she do? How listless
+her life! of how little account! How feeble, forceless, and narrow all
+her efforts! What sacrifices had she made? None. She had lived for
+herself alone. Was this all of life? In the silent hours, when all
+around were hushed in slumber, her longing soul, with far-reaching
+sight, looked out upon the coming years, and beheld the opening
+prospect,--a country saved, a nation redeemed, justice and truth
+triumphant, and Peace, with her white wings, brooding over the land!
+This through sacrifice of blood, of strength, of ease and comfort. To
+withhold the sacrifice was to lose all. To her the coming millions were
+beckoning as they had beckoned to him. With prayers of consecration she
+gave herself to the country,--to go wherever duty called, to labor, to
+endure hardship, and brave scenes which would wring out her heart's
+blood,--to face disease and death itself, if need be, to hand down a
+priceless inheritance to the coming ages.
+
+"You will get sick, my child. You have not strength to be a nurse in the
+hospital," said her mother, when Azalia told her that she must go and
+take care of the soldiers.
+
+"I cannot spare you, my daughter," said her father, tenderly taking her
+in his arms, and kissing her ruby lips. She was his only child, and he
+loved her dearly. "I don't think it is your duty to go; and how lonesome
+the house would be without my darling!"
+
+And so, knowing that it was her duty to do whatever her parents wished,
+she tried to be content. But the days dragged wearily. She was ever
+thinking of the soldiers,--thinking through the days and through the
+nights, till the bright bloom faded from her cheek. Her heart was far
+away. Her life was incomplete,--she felt that it was running to waste.
+
+Her father saw that his flower was fading. At last he said, "Go, my
+darling, and God be with you."
+
+"I don't think that Judge Adams ought to let Azalia go into the
+hospital. It isn't a fit place for girls," said Miss Dobb, when she
+heard that Azalia was to be a nurse. But, giving no heed to Miss Dobb,
+with the blessing of her parents following her, she left her pleasant
+home, gave up all its ease and comfort, to minister to the sick and
+wounded, who had fought to save the country.
+
+She went to Washington, and thence to the hospitals at Annapolis. It was
+hard work to stand all day by the side of the sick, bathing their
+fevered brows, moistening their parched lips, binding up their bleeding
+wounds. It was painful to look upon the quivering flesh, torn and
+mangled by cannon-shot. But she learned to bear it all,--to stand calmly
+by, waiting upon the surgeon while he ran his sharp knife into the live
+flesh. It was a pleasure to aid him in his work.
+
+Her step was light upon the floor; soothing and tender the touch of her
+hand. There was no light so sweet and pure as that which beamed from her
+earnest eyes. The sick waited impatiently for her appearance in the
+morning, watched her footsteps through the day, thanked her for all she
+did, and said, "God bless you!" when she bade them good night. Men who
+were in the habit of uttering fearful oaths wept when she talked with
+them about their mothers; she wrote their letters, and read to them the
+words of affection which came from home. She sang the songs they loved
+to hear. It was like wine to the weak. The down-hearted took new
+courage, and those who were well enough to be hobbling about on
+crutches, who were telling stories of the battles, forgot what they were
+saying while listening to her voice. Her presence was noonday, her
+absence night. Once, when through long watching and patient waiting her
+strength gave way, and the fever raged in her own veins, it was touching
+to see their sorrow. The loud-talking spoke in whispers, and walked
+noiselessly along the wards, for fear of increasing the pain which
+racked her aching head; the sick ones, who missed the touch of her
+magic hand, and the sweet music of her voice, and the sunlight of her
+presence, whose fevers were raging because she was absent, when the
+physician went his rounds in the morning, at noon, and at night,
+inquired not about themselves, but her. When the fever passed,--when she
+was well enough to walk through the wards, and hold for a moment the
+hands which were stretched out on every side,--it was as if her very
+presence had power to heal.
+
+How blessed her work!--to give life and strength; to soothe pain, change
+sorrow to joy; to sit beside the dying, and talk of the Lamb of God that
+taketh away the sin of the world; to wipe the dampness of death from
+their brows, listen to their last words, and, when the spirit had flown,
+to close the sightless eyes, and cut from the pale brow a lock of hair
+for a fond mother far away, thinking ever of her dying boy.
+
+So the months went by,--autumn to winter, winter to spring, and spring
+to summer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+UNDER THE OLD FLAG.
+
+
+There was no change at Andersonville, but in the loathsome prison it was
+ever the same terrible scene of starvation, corruption, disease,
+despair, and death. Every morning those who had died during the night
+were collected by the prisoners and laid in rows by the prison gate,
+where, during the day, they were piled upon the dead-cart and borne out
+to the trenches. There was no hope of relief for the living, and each
+prisoner looked forward with indifference to his inevitable fate. Above
+them floated the Rebel flag. They were kept there beneath its folds by
+Jefferson Davis and General Lee, till thirteen thousand had been starved
+and murdered.
+
+Paul knew that, notwithstanding Uncle Peter's constant care and nursing,
+he was growing weaker; but he had learned to look death calmly in the
+face, and so was undisturbed by the prospect. He knew that God, who
+takes care of the sparrows, would not forget his mother, and he felt
+that Azalia would sometimes shed a tear when she thought of him.
+
+But one morning there was an unusual stir among the prisoners. "You are
+to be exchanged and sent home," said the Rebel officers. They had been
+told the same thing so many times, and had been always so cruelly
+deceived, that they did not believe the statement till orders were
+issued for a portion of them to be ready to march to the cars at an
+appointed hour. Paul was among those who were ordered away. All were
+ready in an instant, for they had no baggage to pack up, no knapsacks,
+no equipments, no overcoats,--nothing but the rags upon their bodies.
+
+Those who were so weak that they could scarcely creep from place to
+place rose and stood upon their feet when told that they were to go
+home. Paul felt a fresh wave of life sweep over him, thrilling every
+fibre of his wasted frame. Hope revived. Home! O the blissful thought!
+He rose weak and trembling from his bed on the cold, damp ground,
+wrapped his rags about him, and, leaning on a cane, supported by Uncle
+Peter, hobbled out and took his place in the long line of skeletons,
+and waited with eager eyes to see the gate turn upon its rusty hinges.
+
+It was hard to part with Uncle Peter, who had been so kind to him. "God
+bless you and reward you for all your kindness to me," said Paul,
+bidding him good by, and shaking hands for the last time.
+
+"I'se sorry to part with ye, Kurnel, but I bless de Lord you is gwine.
+We'll meet again one of dese days, whar de Rebs won't trouble us, and
+whar we will be free foreber," said the old negro, looking up into
+heaven. He could not go. He was a slave. There was no freedom for him
+till the rebellion was crushed, or till the grave opened.
+
+The gates turned on their hinges, and the regiment of skeletons in rags
+took up its march. Such a procession never before was seen on earth. A
+thousand emaciated forms, tottering, reeling, hobbling on canes and
+crutches, wending their way to the cars,--not to luxurious cushioned
+seats, but to hard, jolting cattle-cars,--for a long ride of hundreds of
+miles before reaching the sea-coast. But hope inspired them. They were
+breathing fresh air, and were gazing on smiling fields, waving with
+grain. They were on their way home. The birds cheered them, singing of
+home. "Going home, going home!" said the car-wheels, as they passed from
+rail to rail. In joy and gladness they sang:
+
+               "I'm going home, I'm going home,
+                To die no more, to die no more."
+
+It was as if they had left behind them forever all sorrow and suffering,
+and that for them there could be no more distress, or pain, or anguish.
+It was a long, weary, dusty ride. Some died on the way, but hope kept
+most of them alive.
+
+They reached the city of Charleston, passed from the cars to a
+steamboat, which was to take them down the harbor to the place of
+exchange. The waters danced joyfully around them, as if greeting them
+with gladness. The breezes came in from the dark blue ocean and fanned
+their wasted cheeks. The waves, like a loving mother, gently rocked them
+and sung a soothing lullaby. But O what joy to behold once more the dear
+old flag! How serenely and lovingly it floated in the breeze! They
+saluted it with cheers,--shed tears of gratitude,--clasped each other by
+the hand,--rushed into each other's arms. Those who were able to stand
+danced in a delirium of joy! Paul was too weak to sit up. He could only
+lie upon the deck, and gaze upon the flag till his eyes filled with
+tears, and say: "Thank God, I have seen it once more!" Beneath that flag
+there was joy, peace, comfort, food, clothing, and freedom. Hospital
+nurses were there with blankets, and great kettles filled with soup and
+coffee. For the wounded there were bandages; for the sick there were
+cordials, wines, and medicines. There were tender-hearted men, ready to
+relieve all their sufferings. It was like passing from the prison of
+despair into a paradise of peace and rest, and in joy and gladness they
+began to sing,
+
+     "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."
+
+The strong men on board of the ship, the nurses, and the stout-hearted
+sailors wept like children, and spoke hard words against the Rebels when
+they looked upon the haggard countenances, the hollow cheeks, the sunken
+eyes, of the skeleton forms around them.
+
+Although Paul was so weak that he could hardly lift his hands to his
+head, although his comrades were passing away, although every day he saw
+their bodies, wrapped in hammocks and weighted with shot, cast into the
+sea, yet he never experienced such bliss, such contentment, as while
+lying on the deck through the long summer day, looking up to the old
+flag, and the clear sky, and out upon the calm and peaceful sea,
+thinking of the sea of glass and the great white throne, and the
+calmness, sereneness, and rest of heaven. And at night, when lulled to
+sleep by the rippling waves, how enchanting his dreams of home, of his
+mother, of the scenes of other days,--the old house, the swallows
+twittering around its eaves, the roses blooming beneath the window, the
+night-wind sweeping down the valley, the church-bell ringing the evening
+hour, its deep tolling when the funeral train passed on to the cemetery
+in the shady grove,--his friends welcoming him home once more, Azalia
+among them, queen of the hour, peerless in beauty, with rose bloom on
+her cheek,--of Mr. Chrome, Judge Adams, and Colonel Dare, all saying,
+"We are glad to see you,"--dreaming, and waking, to find it only a
+dream.
+
+But the ship was bearing him on. The distance was lessening. One more
+day, and the voyage would be at an end, the ship in port. O, if he could
+but see his mother once more,--feel her hand upon his brow, her kiss
+upon his lip,--then he could die content! A desire for life set in. Hope
+revived. He would fight death as he had fought the Rebels, and, God
+willing, he would win the victory.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+THE JAWS OF DEATH.
+
+
+The hospital steamer, with its freight of living skeletons, had
+accomplished its voyage in safety, and lay moored at the wharf in
+Annapolis. Nurses and sailors were carrying the emaciated forms from the
+ship to the shore, to the clean and tidy wards of the hospital.
+
+It was a sight which wrung tears from the eyes of those who did not
+often weep. The ship was a charnel-house. Death in its most horrible
+forms was there,--from starvation, from corruption, scurvy, lock-jaw,
+gangrene, consumption, and fever. How ghastly the scene! Men, once
+robust and strong, weak and helpless as babes, with hollow cheeks,
+toothless gums, thin pale lips, colorless flesh, sunken eyes, long,
+tangled hair, uncombed for many months, skeleton fingers with nails like
+eagles' claws, lying in rags upon the deck,--some, with strained eyes,
+looking up for the last time to the dear old flag which waved above
+them, for which they had fought, for which they had starved, for which
+they were dying, gazing in rapture on its blessed folds, till their eyes
+were fixed in death, and the slowly-heaving heart stood still forever!
+They, and all their comrades, sleeping on a hundred battle-fields, and
+mouldering in the trenches at Andersonville, were the victims of
+Jefferson Davis and General Lee, whose names shall rot through all
+coming time.
+
+There was work for the gentle-hearted nurses who stood waiting in the
+hospital wards,--work which required tenderest care;--removing the rags,
+washing the fevered skeletons, bathing the bleeding wounds where the
+sharp bones had pierced the skin; feeding them,--a crumb at a time;
+administering cordials drop by drop, to bring back with delicate nursing
+the receding tides of life.
+
+With a bleeding heart, but yet with steady nerves, Azalia passed among
+them, doing her appointed work. There was one who was lying as if
+asleep, with his hands clasped upon his breast. His beard had been long
+uncut. His cheeks were wasted, his eyes sunken, but he had a manly brow.
+A strange fear and trembling crept over her,--a shuddering of the heart.
+Alarmed and frightened at she knew not what, she brushed back the
+matted hair from his temples, and laid her hand upon his brow, cold and
+damp with the dews of death. The soldier opened his eyes, looked into
+her face, stared wildly around him, and tried to speak. It was but one
+word, and that a whisper,--her own name, "Azalia!"
+
+A cry rang through the ward, startling the physicians and the nurses,
+and waking those who were asleep. She clasped him in her arms, fell upon
+his face, and kissed his wasted lips. "O Paul! Can it be that you are
+here?" she said.
+
+The throbbing of her heart was like the fluttering of a frightened bird.
+Sweet, calm, and beautiful as the setting sun was the smile upon his
+face, and in his eyes the celestial light of Peace! They closed, and he
+lay again as if in slumber.
+
+"They told me that you were dead," she said.
+
+There was no reply; she laid her hand upon his heart, but could feel no
+beating there; touched her fingers to his fleshless wrist, but could
+find no throbbing of the pulse. The thin blood was receding from his
+colorless lips,--the tide was going out. "Doctor! Doctor! O come quick!
+Save him!" she cried.
+
+The doctor came and gazed upon the face of Paul. "He is not quite gone,"
+he said, then moistened his lips with brandy. There was a quickening of
+the pulse. "If he rallies from this, we may save him," he said.
+
+They wrapped him in warm flannels, rubbed his fleshless limbs, and gave
+him cordials, drop by drop. How long the hours,--the weary hours of hope
+and fear,--of expectation and distress,--while the faltering spirit, as
+if tired of earth, was but fluttering awhile along the shore of Time
+before taking its returnless flight over the dark and silent river to
+another land! Through the night Azalia sat by his side, watching him
+with sleepless eyes, fanning his pale brow. The morning sun beamed upon
+her still sitting there. Those who were accustomed to watch for her
+appearance in the early morning, restless with fever, beheld her as
+clothed with celestial brightness, and said one to another, "There sits
+our Angel of Light!"
+
+Through the day she was there, watching the slow heavings of his heart,
+holding her breath while listening to assure herself that he was still
+breathing; hoping and fearing, holding her hands at times upon her own
+heart to still its wild, tumultuous beating,--giving him atom by atom
+the needful nourishment,--bending over him to smooth his
+pillow,--opening the casement for the winds to blow upon his bloodless
+cheek,--thus snatching him from the very jaws of death and winning him
+back to life!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+HOME.
+
+
+A despatch came clicking into the telegraph office in New Hope that Paul
+Parker was alive,--that he had been a prisoner at Andersonville, was
+very feeble, but in a fair way to get well, and would soon be at home.
+It was from Azalia. Mr. Magnet read it in amazement, then ran as fast as
+he could to carry it to the little old cottage. "Good news!" he shouted,
+rushing into the house out of breath, without knocking. "Paul is alive!
+Paul is alive!"
+
+"My son alive!" exclaimed Mrs. Parker, her heart leaping wildly.
+
+"Yes; there is the despatch."
+
+She read it in fear and trembling, her brain in a whirl. She must fly to
+him! O if she only had wings! Paul alive! The old clock took up the
+word, "Alive,--alive,--alive," it said. A robin perched in the great
+maple sang all day, "He is coming home,--is coming home," while the
+swallows from their nests under the eaves looked into the old kitchen
+through the open door, twittering together, as if saying, "How glad we
+are!" Never so bright the sunshine as on that morning, nor so fragrant
+the flowers! All nature was glad, and rejoiced in her joy.
+
+Mr. Magnet told the news through the village, the people listening in
+wonder. Mr. Chrome threw down his paint-brush, took off his old hat,
+swung it over his head, and gave three cheers. Through the day he kept
+saying to himself, "That beats the Dutch!" The children ran through the
+streets shouting, "Paul is alive! Paul is alive!" Father Surplice, Judge
+Adams, Colonel Dare, and the neighbors--a dozen at a time--went down to
+shake hands with Paul's mother, making it such a day of gladness as
+never was known before in New Hope.
+
+Impatiently they waited for the day when Paul would be with them again.
+
+"We will let him know that we have not forgotten him," said Colonel
+Dare; "but it is little that we can do for one who has suffered so
+much."
+
+So also said Judge Adams, and Mr. Capias, and all the people.
+
+The day came at last. He was on board the train, feeble and weak, but
+Azalia was by his side, supporting his weary head,--sustaining him when
+his strength was gone. All New Hope was at the depot to receive him,
+looking with eager eyes down the level track to see the approaching
+train when it rounded the distant curve.
+
+"It is coming! There it is!" shouted the boys. They loved him, their
+dear old teacher. The train stopped, and the conductor came out with
+Paul leaning on his arm, Azalia following. The people were going to
+hurrah, but when they saw how poor, pale, and emaciated he was, how thin
+his cheeks, how hollow and sunken his eyes, how languid and weary, how
+little there was left of one who once was so manly, they held their
+breaths, and felt a strange choking in their throats.
+
+Blessed the meeting of mother and son! He had come back from the grave.
+He was even then almost a corpse, but he was alive! She had no words to
+utter; her joy was silent and deep. She could only clasp him in her
+arms, fold him to her heart, and, looking up to heaven, with streaming
+eyes, give silent thanks to God.
+
+The people bowed their heads and stood in silent reverence. Colonel Dare
+came with his carriage. Mr. Chrome took Paul in his arms, and lifted him
+into it as if he was but a child. The people came one after another and
+touched his hands. The children brought flowers and laid them in his
+arms. They all had words of welcome for Azalia. She had saved him. "God
+bless you, darling!" said her father, kissing her cheeks, still round
+and fair, though watching, anxiety, care, and sorrow had robbed them of
+the bright bloom of other days.
+
+"The Lord sent you in the way, as he sent Joseph into Egypt," said
+Father Surplice.
+
+Deep, tender, and hearty the love of friends! Daphne came with choicest
+delicacies. How pleasant to hear her voice! How cheery her laugh! Mr.
+Noggin brought a box of his best honey. Mr. Chrome, who loved to hunt
+and fish, brought quails and pigeons. Even Miss Dobb sent up to know if
+there was not something that she could get for him. The birds came, the
+robins and swallows, singing and twittering and brimming over with joy.
+
+How enchanting the music which came swelling up the valley from the
+water by the mill, from the woods beyond the river, from the crickets
+in the fields, from the church-bell, blending with the night airs, and
+filling his soul with peace! But more blessed than everything else on
+earth was the holy light which beamed upon him from Azalia's eyes, which
+went down deep into his soul.
+
+"You have always been my angel of light and goodness, and nothing but
+death shall part us," he said, as she sat by his side.
+
+"I am glad if I have helped you, Paul," she said, laying her soft hand
+upon his brow, and kissing his lips. Pure and true the love which had
+deepened through many years, which had beamed from each other's eyes,
+but which till then had never been spoken. Like a brook gushing from
+springs in distant mountains, so, far back in childhood, had been the
+beginning of their affection, and now it was a river.
+
+Day by day his strength returned, the flesh came again upon his wasted
+limbs, and health bloomed upon his cheeks. Then they walked together in
+the garden, talking of the dear old times, and looking onward to a
+future more golden than the sunniest day of all the past.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINNING HIS WAY***
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Winning His Way, by Charles Carleton Coffin</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Winning His Way</p>
+<p>Author: Charles Carleton Coffin</p>
+<p>Release Date: October 7, 2007  [eBook #22913]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINNING HIS WAY***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>E-text prepared by D. Alexander, Janet Blenkinship,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net/c/">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br />
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+    (<a href="http://www.archive.org/details/americana">http://www.archive.org/details/americana</a>)</h4>
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+      Note:
+    </td>
+    <td>
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
+      <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/winninghisway00coffrich">
+      http://www.archive.org/details/winninghisway00coffrich</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p class="littlegap">&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h1>WINNING HIS WAY.</h1>
+
+<p class="gap">&nbsp; </p>
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN,</h2>
+
+<p class="littlegap">&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>AUTHOR OF "STORY OF LIBERTY," "BOYS OF '76," "MY DAYS AND
+NIGHTS ON THE BATTLEFIELD," "OUR NEW WAY ROUND
+THE WORLD," "FOLLOWING THE FLAG," ETC.</h4>
+
+<p class="biggap">&nbsp; </p>
+<h3>BOSTON, MASS.:</h3>
+
+<h3>PERRY MASON &amp; CO.</h3>
+
+<h3>1888.</h3>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p class="center">Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by</p>
+
+<p class="center">CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN,</p>
+
+<p class="center">In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
+Massachusetts</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2>
+<table border="0" width="70%" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<tr>
+    <td align='right' style="width:15%;"><span style='font-size:small'>CHAPTER</span></td>
+    <td style="width:5%;">&nbsp;</td>
+    <td style="width:80%;">&nbsp;</td>
+    <td align='right' style="width:10%;"><span style='font-size:small'>PAGE</span></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">I.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">FIRST YEARS</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#WINNING_HIS_WAY">1</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">II.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">HARD TIMES</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">27</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">III.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">MERRY TIMES</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">42</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">IV.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">MUSIC AND PAINTING</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">63</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">V.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">THE NIGHT-HAWKS</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">82</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">VI.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">PAUL'S FRIENDS</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">91</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">VII.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">IN A TRAP</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">103</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">VIII.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">KEEPING SCHOOL</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">116</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">IX.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">RALLYING ROUND THE FLAG</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">126</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">X.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">A SOLDIER</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">144</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XI.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">SCOUTING</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">156</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XII.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">MISSED FROM HOME</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">170</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XIII.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">THE MARCH</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">175</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XIV.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">THE BATTLE</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">180</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XV.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">SHOWING WHAT HE WAS MADE OF</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">190</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XVI.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">HONOR TO THE BRAVE</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">200</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XVII.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">CHICKAMAUGA</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">207</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XVIII.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">HOW HE LIVED IN THE MEMORY OF HIS FRIENDS</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">211</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XIX.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">WHAT BECAME OF A TRAITOR</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">217</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XX.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">DARK DAYS</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">224</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XXI.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">CONSECRATION</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">233</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XXII.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">UNDER THE OLD FLAG</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">241</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XXIII.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">THE JAWS OF DEATH</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">248</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+  <td align="right">XXIV.</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td align="left">HOME</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">253</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+<h1><a name="WINNING_HIS_WAY" id="WINNING_HIS_WAY"></a>WINNING HIS WAY</h1>
+
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h2>FIRST YEARS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Many years ago, before railroads were thought of, a company of
+Connecticut farmers, who had heard marvellous stories of the richness of
+the land in the West, sold their farms, packed up their goods, bade
+adieu to their friends, and with their families started for Ohio.</p>
+
+<p>After weeks of travel over dusty roads, they came to a beautiful valley,
+watered by a winding river. The hills around were fair and sunny. There
+were groves of oaks, and maples, and lindens. The air was fragrant with
+honeysuckle and jasmine. There was plenty of game. The swift-footed deer
+browsed the tender grass upon the hills. Squirrels chattered in the
+trees and the ringdoves cooed in the depths of the forest. The place was
+so fertile and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span>fair, so pleasant and peaceful, that the emigrants made
+it their home, and called it New Hope.</p>
+
+<p>They built a mill upon the river. They laid out a wide, level street,
+and a public square, erected a school-house, and then a church. One of
+their number opened a store. Other settlers came, and, as the years
+passed by, the village rang with the shouts of children pouring from the
+school-house for a frolic upon the square. Glorious times they had
+beneath the oaks and maples.</p>
+
+<p>One of the jolliest of the boys was Paul Parker, only son of Widow
+Parker, who lived in a little old house, shaded by a great maple, on the
+outskirts of the village. Her husband died when Paul was in his cradle.
+Paul's grandfather was still living. The people called him "Old
+Pensioner Parker," for he fought at Bunker Hill, and received a pension
+from government. He was hale and hearty, though more than eighty years
+of age.</p>
+
+<p>The pension was the main support of the family. They kept a cow, a pig,
+turkeys, and chickens, and, by selling milk and eggs, which Paul carried
+to their customers, they brought the years round without running in
+debt. Paul's pantaloons had a patch on each <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span>knee, but he laughed just
+as loud and whistled just as cheerily for all that.</p>
+
+<p>In summer he went barefoot. He did not have to turn out at every
+mud-puddle, and he could plash into the mill-pond and give the frogs a
+crack over the head without stopping to take off stockings and shoes.
+Paul did not often have a dinner of roast beef, but he had an abundance
+of bean porridge, brown bread, and milk.</p>
+
+<p>"Bean porridge is wholesome food, Paul," said his grandfather. "When I
+was a boy we used to say,&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">'Bean porridge hot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Bean porridge cold,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Bean porridge best<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Nine days old.'<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The wood-choppers in winter used to freeze it into cakes and carry it
+into the woods. Many a time I have made a good dinner on a chunk of
+frozen porridge."</p>
+
+<p>The Pensioner remembered what took place in his early years, but he lost
+his reckoning many times a day upon what was going on in the town. He
+loved to tell stories, and Paul was a willing listener. Pleasant
+winter-evenings they had in the old kitchen, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span>the hickory logs blazing
+on the hearth, the tea-kettle singing through its nose, the clock
+ticking soberly, the old Pensioner smoking his pipe in the arm-chair,
+Paul's mother knitting,&mdash;Bruno by Paul's side, wagging his tail and
+watching Muff in the opposite corner rolling her great round yellow
+eyes. Bruno was always ready to give Muff battle whenever Paul tipped
+him the wink to pitch in.</p>
+
+<p>The Pensioner's stories were of his boyhood,&mdash;how he joined the army,
+and fought the battles of the Revolution. Thus his story ran.</p>
+
+<p>"I was only a little bigger than you are, Paul," he said, "when the
+red-coats began the war at Lexington. I lived in old Connecticut then;
+that was a long time before we came out here. The meeting-house bell
+rung, and the people blew their dinner-horns, till the whole town was
+alarmed. I ran up to the meeting-house and found the militia forming.
+The men had their guns and powder-horns. The women were at work melting
+their pewter porringers into bullets. I wasn't o'd enough to train, but
+I could fire a gun and bring down a squirrel from the top of a tree. I
+wanted to go and help drive the red-coats into the ocean. I asked
+mother <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>if I might. I was afraid that she didn't want me to go. 'Why,
+Paul,' says she, 'you haven't any clothes.' 'Mother,' says I, 'I can
+shoot a red-coat just as well as any of the men can.' Says she, 'Do you
+want to go, Paul?' 'Yes, mother.' 'Then you shall go; I'll fix you out,'
+she said. As I hadn't any coat she took a meal-bag, cut a hole for my
+head in the bottom, and made holes for my arms in the sides, cut off a
+pair of her own stocking-legs, and sewed them on for sleeves, and I was
+rigged. I took the old gun which father carried at Ticonderoga, and the
+powder-horn, and started. There is the gun and the horn, Paul, hanging
+up over the fireplace.</p>
+
+<p>"The red-coats had got back to Boston, but we cooped them up. Our
+company was in Colonel Knowlton's regiment. I carried the flag, which
+said, <i>Qui transtulit sustinet</i>. I don't know anything about Latin, but
+those who do say it means that God who hath transported us hither will
+sustain us; and that is true, Paul. He sustained us at Bunker Hill, and
+we should have held it if our powder had not given out. Our regiment was
+by a rail-fence on the northeast side of the hill. Stark, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>with his New
+Hampshire boys, was by the river. Prescott was in the redoubt on the top
+of the hill. Old Put kept walking up and down the lines. This is the way
+it was, Paul."</p>
+
+<p>The Pensioner laid aside his pipe, bent forward, and traced upon the
+hearth the positions of the troops.</p>
+
+<p>"There is the redoubt; here is the rail-fence; there is where the
+red-coats formed their lines. They came up in front of us here. We
+didn't fire a gun till they got close to us. I'll show you how the fire
+ran down the line."</p>
+
+<p>He took down the horn, pulled out the stopper, held his finger over the
+tip, and made a trail of powder.</p>
+
+<p>"There, Paul, that is by the fence. As the red-coats came up, some of us
+began to be uneasy and wanted to fire; but Old Put kept saying, 'Don't
+fire yet! Wait till you can see the white of their eyes! Aim at their
+belts!'"</p>
+
+<p>While the Pensioner was saying this, he took the tongs and picked a live
+coal from the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"They came up beautifully, Paul,&mdash;the tall grenadiers and light-infantry
+in their scarlet coats, and the sun shining on their gun-barrels and
+bayonets. They <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>wer'n't more than ten rods off when a soldier on top of
+the hill couldn't stand it any longer. Pop! went his gun, and the fire
+ran down the hill quicker than scat! just like this!"</p>
+
+<p>He touched the coal to the powder. There was a flash, a puff of smoke
+rising to the ceiling, and filling the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Hooray!" shouted Paul, springing to his feet. Muff went with a jump
+upon the bureau in the corner of the room, her tail as big as Paul's
+arm, and her back up. Bruno was after her in a twinkling, bouncing
+about, barking, and looking round to Paul to see if it was all right.</p>
+
+<p>"There, grandpa, you have made a great smut on the hearth," said Mrs.
+Parker, who kept her house neat and tidy, though it was a crazy old
+affair.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, mother, I thought it would please Paul."</p>
+
+<p>"S-s-s-s-si'c!" Paul made a hiss which Bruno understood, for he went at
+Muff more fiercely. It was glorious to see Muff spit fire, and hear her
+growl low and deep like distant thunder. Paul would not have Muff hurt
+for anything, but he loved to see Bruno show his teeth at her, for she
+was gritty when waked up.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p><p>"Be still, Paul, and let Muff alone," said Paul's mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Bruno, she ain't worth minding," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"They have got good courage, both of 'em," said the Pensioner; "and
+courage is one half of the battle, and truth and honor is the other
+half. Paul, I want you to remember that. It will be worth more than a
+fortune to you. I don't mean that cats and dogs know much about truth
+and honor, and I have seen some men who didn't know much more about
+those qualities of character than Muff and Bruno; but what I have said,
+Paul, is true for all that. They who win success in life are those who
+love truth, and who follow what is noble and good. No matter how brave a
+man may be, if he hasn't these qualities he won't succeed. He may get
+rich, but that won't amount to much. Success, Paul, is to have an
+unblemished character,&mdash;to be true to ourselves, to our country, and to
+God."</p>
+
+<p>He went on with his story, telling how the British troops ran before the
+fire of the Yankees,&mdash;how they re-formed and came on a second time, and
+were repulsed again,&mdash;how General Clinton went <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>over from Boston with
+reinforcements,&mdash;how Charlestown was set on fire,&mdash;how the flames leaped
+from house to house, and curled round the spire of the church,&mdash;how the
+red-coats advanced a third time beneath the great black clouds of
+smoke,&mdash;how the ammunition of the Yankees gave out, and they were
+obliged to retreat,&mdash;how General Putnam tried to rally them,&mdash;how they
+escaped across Charlestown Neck, where the cannon-balls from the British
+floating batteries raked the ranks! He made it all so plain, that Paul
+wished he had been there.</p>
+
+<p>The story completed, Paul climbed the creaking stairway to his narrow
+chamber, repeated his evening prayer, and scrambled into bed.</p>
+
+<p>"He is a jolly boy," said the Pensioner to Paul's mother, as Paul left
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what will become of him," she replied, "he is so wild and
+thoughtless. He leaves the door open, throws his cap into the corner,
+sets Bruno and Muff to growling, stops to play on his way home from
+school, sings, whistles, shouts, hurrahs, and tears round like all
+possessed."</p>
+
+<p>If she could have looked into Paul's desk at school, she would have
+found whirligigs, tops, pin-boxes, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>nails, and no end of strings and
+dancing dandy-jims.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul is a rogue," said the Pensioner. "You remember how he got on top
+of the house awhile ago and frightened us out of our wits by shouting
+'Fire! fire!' down the chimney; how we ran out to see about it; how I
+asked him 'Where?' and says he, 'Down there in the fireplace, grandpa.'
+He is a chip of the old block. I used to do just so. But there is one
+good thing about him, he don't do mean tricks. He don't bend up pins and
+put them in the boys' seats, or tuck chestnut-burs into the girls'
+hoods. I never knew him to tell a lie. He will come out all right."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so," said Mrs. Parker.</p>
+
+<p>Paul could look through the crevices between the shingles, and the
+cracks in the walls, and behold the stars gleaming from the unfathomable
+spaces. He wondered how far they were away. He listened to the wind
+chanting a solemn dirge, filling his soul with longings for he knew not
+what. He thought over his grandfather's stories, and the words he had
+spoken about courage, truth, and honor, till a shingle clattering in the
+wind took up the refrain, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>seemed to say, Truth and honor,&mdash;truth
+and honor,&mdash;truth and honor,&mdash;so steadily and pleasantly, that while he
+listened the stars faded from his sight, and he sailed away into
+dream-land.</p>
+
+<p>Paul was twelve years old, stout, hearty, and healthy,&mdash;full of life,
+and brimming over with fun. Once he set the village in a roar. The
+people permitted their pigs to run at large. The great maple in front of
+the Pensioner's house was cool and shady,&mdash;a delightful place for the
+pigs through the hot summer days.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Chrome, the carriage-painter, lived across the road. He painted a
+great many wagons for the farmers,&mdash;the wheels yellow, the bodies blue,
+green, or red, with scrolls and flowers on the sides. Paul watched him
+by the hour, and sometimes made up his mind to be a carriage-painter
+when he became a man.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Chrome," said Paul, "don't you think that those pigs would look
+better if they were painted?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps so."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to see how they would look painted as you paint your
+wagons."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Chrome laughed at the ludicrous fancy. He <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>loved fun, and was ready
+to help carry out the freak.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, just try your hand on improving nature," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Paul went to work. Knowing that pigs like to have their backs scratched,
+he had no difficulty in keeping them quiet. To one he gave green legs,
+blue ears, red rings round its eyes, and a red tail. Another had one red
+leg, one blue, one yellow, one green, with red and blue stripes and
+yellow stars on its body. "I will make him a star-spangled pig," Paul
+shouted to Mr. Chrome. Another had a green head, yellow ears, and a red
+body. Bruno watched the proceedings, wagging his tail, looking now at
+Paul and then at the pigs, ready to help on the fun.</p>
+
+<p>"Si'c!&mdash;si'c!&mdash;si'c!" said Paul. Bruno was upon them with a bound. Away
+they capered, with him at their heels. As soon as they came into the
+sunshine the spirits of turpentine in the paint was like fire to their
+flesh. Faster they ran up the street squealing, with Bruno barking
+behind. Mr. Chrome laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. All the
+dogs, great and small, joined Bruno in chase of the strange game. People
+came out from the stores, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>windows were thrown up, and all hands&mdash;men,
+women, and children&mdash;ran to see what was the matter, laughing and
+shouting, while the pigs and dogs ran round the square.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul Parker did that, I'll bet," said Mr. Leatherby, the shoemaker,
+peeping out from his shop. "It is just like him."</p>
+
+<p>An old white horse, belonging to Mr. Smith, also sought the shade of the
+maple before the Pensioner's house. Bruno barked at him by the hour, but
+the old horse would not move for anything short of a club or stone.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll see if I can't get rid of him," said Paul to himself.</p>
+
+<p>He went into the barn, found a piece of rope, tied up a little bundle of
+hay, got a stick five or six feet long, and some old harness-straps. In
+the evening, when it was so dark that people could not see what he was
+up to, he caught the old horse, laid the stick between his ears and
+strapped it to his neck, and tied the hay to the end of the stick, in
+such a way that it hung a few inches beyond old Whitey's nose. The old
+horse took a step ahead to nibble the hay,&mdash;another,&mdash;another,&mdash;another!
+"Don't you wish <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>you may get it?" said Paul. Tramp,&mdash;tramp,&mdash;tramp. Old
+Whitey went down the road. Paul heard him go across the bridge by the
+mill, and up the hill the other side of the brook.</p>
+
+<p>"Go it, old fellow!" he shouted, then listened again. It was a calm
+night, and he could just hear old Whitey's feet,&mdash;tramp,&mdash;tramp,&mdash;tramp.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning the good people of Fairview, ten miles from New Hope,
+laughed to see an old white horse, with a bundle of hay a few inches
+beyond his nose, passing through the place.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Smith, after breakfast, started out to hunt up old Whitey. He often
+found him under the maple in front of the Pensioner's house. Paul was
+swinging on the gate. "Have you seen my horse?" Mr. Smith asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, I saw him going down towards the bridge last evening," Paul
+replied, chuckling to himself.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Smith went down to the mill and inquired. The miller heard a horse
+go over the bridge. The farmer on the other side heard a horse go up the
+hill. Mr. Smith looked at the tracks. They were old Whitey's, who had a
+broken shoe on his left hind foot. He followed on. "I never knew him to
+go <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>away before," he said to himself, as he walked hour after hour,
+seeing the tracks all the way to Fairview.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you seen a white horse about here?" he asked of one of the
+villagers.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir; there was one here this morning trying to overtake a bundle
+of hay," the man replied, laughing. "There he is now!" he added.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Smith looked up and saw old Whitey, who had turned about, and was
+reaching forward to get a nibble of the hay. Mr. Smith felt like being
+angry, but the old horse was walking so soberly and earnestly that he
+couldn't help laughing.</p>
+
+<p>"That is some of Paul's doings, I know. I'll give him a blessing when I
+get back."</p>
+
+<p>It was noon before Mr. Smith reached New Hope. Paul and Bruno were
+sitting beneath the maple.</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you find old Whitey?" Paul asked.</p>
+
+<p>"You was the one who did it, you little rascal!"</p>
+
+<p>"Did what?"</p>
+
+<p>"You know what. You have made me walk clear to Fairview. I have a mind
+to horsewhip you."</p>
+
+<p>Paul laughed to think that the old horse had tramped so far, though he
+was sorry that Mr. Smith had been obliged to walk that distance.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p><p>"I didn't mean any harm, Mr. Smith; but old Whitey has made our dooryard
+his stamping-place all summer, and I thought I would see if I could get
+rid of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, sir, if you do it again I'll trounce you!" said Mr. Smith as he
+rode away, his anger coming up.</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't it be better for you to put him in a pasture, Mr. Smith? Then
+he wouldn't trouble us," said Paul, who knew that Mr. Smith had no right
+to let old Whitey run at large. Paul was not easily frightened when he
+had right on his side. The people in the stores and at the tavern had a
+hearty laugh when they heard how old Whitey went to Fairview.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Cipher taught the village school. He was tall, slim, thin-faced,
+with black eyes deeply set in his head, and a long, hooked nose like an
+eagle's bill. He wore a loose swallow-tailed coat with bright brass
+buttons, and pants which were several inches too short. The Committee
+employed him, not because he was a superior teacher, but they could get
+him for twelve dollars a month, while Mr. Rudiment, who had been through
+college, and who was known to be an excellent instructor, asked
+sixteen.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p><p>There was a crowd of roistering boys and rosy-cheeked girls, who made
+the old school-house hum like a beehive. Very pleasant to the passers-by
+was the music of their voices. At recess and at noon they had leap-frog
+and tag. Paul was in a class with Philip Funk, Hans Middlekauf, and
+Michael Murphy. There were other boys and girls of all nationalities.
+Paul's ancestors were from Connecticut, while Philip's father was a
+Virginian. Hans was born in Germany, and Michael in Ireland. Philip's
+father kept a grocery, and sold sugar, molasses, tobacco, and whiskey.
+He was rich, and Philip wore good clothes and calf-skin boots. Paul
+could get his lessons very quick whenever he set about them in earnest,
+but he spent half his time in inventing fly-traps, making whirligigs, or
+drawing pictures on his slate. He had an accurate eye, and could draw
+admirably. Philip could get his lessons also if he chose to apply
+himself, but it was a great deal easier to have some one work out the
+problems in arithmetic than to do them himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, Paul, just help me; that is a good fellow," he said, coaxingly.</p>
+
+<p>It was at recess.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p><p>"No; Cipher has forbid it. Each one must do his own work," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"If you will do it, I will give you a handful of raisins," said Philip,
+who usually had his pockets full of raisins, candy, or nuts.</p>
+
+<p>"It wouldn't be right."</p>
+
+<p>"Come, just do this one; Cipher never will know it."</p>
+
+<p>"No!" Paul said it resolutely.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a mean, sneaking fellow," said Philip.</p>
+
+<p>Philip was a year older than Paul. He had sandy hair, white eyelashes,
+and a freckled face. He carried a watch, and always had money in his
+pocket. Paul, on the other hand, hardly ever had a cent which he could
+call his own. His clothes were worn till they were almost past mending.</p>
+
+<p>"Rag-tag has got a hole in his trousers," said Philip to the other boys.</p>
+
+<p>Paul's face flushed. He wanted to knock Phillip's teeth down his throat.
+He knew that his mother had hard work to clothe him, and felt the insult
+keenly. He went into the school-house, choked his anger down, and tried
+to forget all about it by drawing a picture of the master. It was an
+excellent likeness,&mdash;his spindle legs, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>great feet, short pants, loose
+coat, sunken eyes, hooked nose, thin face, and long bony fingers.</p>
+
+<p>Philip sat behind Paul. Instead of studying his lesson, he was planning
+how to get Paul into trouble. He saw the picture. Now was his time. He
+giggled aloud. Mr. Cipher looked up in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"What are you laughing at, Master Funk?"</p>
+
+<p>"At what Paul is doing."</p>
+
+<p>Paul hustled his slate into his desk.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see what you have here," said Cipher, walking up to Paul, who
+spat on his fingers, and ran his hand into the desk, to rub out the
+drawing; but he felt that it would be better to meet his punishment
+boldly than to have the school think he was a sneak. He laid the slate
+before the master without a line effaced.</p>
+
+<p>"Giving your attention to drawing, are you, Master Paul?" said Cipher.
+His eyes flashed. He knit his brows. The blood rushed to his cheeks.
+There was a popping up of heads all over the school-room to get a sight
+of the picture.</p>
+
+<p>The boys laughed aloud, and there was a tittering among the girls, which
+made Cipher very angry. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>"Silence!" he roared, and stamped upon the
+floor so savagely that the windows rattled. "Come out here, sir. I'll
+give you a drawing-lesson of another sort." He seized Paul by the
+collar, and threw him into the space in front of his own desk. "Hold out
+your hand."</p>
+
+<p>Paul felt that he was about to receive a tremendous thrashing; but he
+determined that he would not flinch. He held out his right hand, and
+received the blow from a heavy ferule. His hand felt as if he had been
+struck by a piece of hot iron.</p>
+
+<p>"The other, sir."</p>
+
+<p>Whack! it fell, a blow which made the flesh purple. There was an Oh!
+upon his tongue; but he set his teeth together, and bit his lips till
+they bled, and so smothered it. Another blow,&mdash;another,&mdash;another. They
+were hard to bear; but his teeth were set like a vice. There was a
+twitching of the muscles round his lips; he was pale. When the blows
+fell, he held his breath, but did not snivel.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll see if I can't bring you to your feeling, you good-for-nothing
+scapegrace," said the master, mad with passion, and surprised that Paul
+made no outcry. He gave another round, bringing the ferule down with
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>great force. Blood began to ooze from the pores. The last blow spattered
+the drops around the room. Cipher came to his senses. He stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sorry, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know whether I am or not. I didn't mean any harm. I suppose I
+ought not to have drawn it in school; but I didn't do it to make fun. I
+drew you just as you are," said Paul,&mdash;his voice trembling a little in
+spite of his efforts to control it.</p>
+
+<p>The master could not deny that it was a perfect likeness. He was
+surprised at Paul's cleverness at drawing, and for the first time in his
+life saw that he cut a ridiculous figure wearing that long, loose,
+swallow-tailed coat, with great, flaming brass buttons, and resolved
+upon the spot that his next coat should be a frock, and that he would
+get a longer pair of pants.</p>
+
+<p>"You may take your seat, sir!" he said, puzzled to know whether to
+punish Paul still more, and compel him to say that he was sorry, or
+whether to accept the explanations, and apologize for whipping him so
+severely.</p>
+
+<p>Paul sat down. His hands ached terribly; but what troubled him most was
+the thought that he had been whipped before the whole school. All the
+girls <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>had witnessed his humiliation. There was one among them,&mdash;Azalia
+Adams,&mdash;who stood at the head of Paul's class, the best reader and
+speller in school. She had ruby lips, and cheeks like roses; the golden
+sunlight falling upon her chestnut hair crowned her with glory; deep,
+thoughtful, and earnest was the liquid light of her hazel eyes; she was
+as lovely and beautiful as the flower whose name she bore. Paul had
+drawn her picture many times,&mdash;sometimes bending over her task,
+sometimes as she sat, unmindful of the hum of voices around her, looking
+far away into a dim and distant dream-land. He never wearied of tracing
+the features of one so fair and good as she. Her laugh was as musical as
+a mountain-brook; and in the church on Sunday, when he heard her voice
+sweetly and melodiously mingling with the choir, he thought of the
+angels,&mdash;of her as in heaven and he on earth.</p>
+
+<p>"Run home, sonny, and tell your marm that you got a licking," said
+Philip when school was out.</p>
+
+<p>Paul's face became livid. He would have doubled his fist and given
+Philip a blow in the face, but his palms were like puff-balls. There was
+an ugly feeling inside, but just then a pair of bright hazel eyes,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>almost swimming with tears, looked into his own. "Don't mind it, Paul!"
+said Azalia.</p>
+
+<p>The pain was not half so hard to bear after that. He wanted to say, "I
+thank you," but did not know how. Till then his lips had hardly
+quivered, and he had not shed a tear; now his eyes became moist; one
+great drop rolled down his cheek, but he wiped it off with his
+coat-sleeve, and turned away, for fear that Azalia would think him a
+baby.</p>
+
+<p>On his way home the thought uppermost in his mind was, "What will mother
+say?" Why tell her? Would it not be better to keep the matter to
+himself? But then he remembered that she had said, "Paul, I shall expect
+you to tell me truthfully all that happens to you at school." He loved
+his mother. She was one of the best mothers that ever lived, working for
+him day and night. How could he abuse such confidence as she had given
+him? He would not violate it. He would not be a sneak.</p>
+
+<p>His mother and the Pensioner were sitting before the fire as he entered
+the house. She welcomed him with a smile,&mdash;a beautiful smile it was, for
+she was a noble woman, and Paul was her darling, her pride, the light,
+joy, and comfort of her life.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p><p>"Well, Paul, how do you get on at school?" his grandfather asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I got a whipping to-day." It was spoken boldly and manfully.</p>
+
+<p>"What! My son got a whipping!" his mother exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"I am astonished. Come here, and tell me all about it."</p>
+
+<p>Paul stood by her side and told the story,&mdash;how Philip Funk tried to
+bribe him, how he called him names,&mdash;how, having got his lessons, he
+made a picture of the master. "Here it is, mother." He took his slate
+from his little green bag. The picture had not been effaced. His mother
+looked at it and laughed, notwithstanding her efforts to keep sober, for
+it was such a perfect likeness. She had an exquisite sense of the
+ludicrous, and Paul was like her. She was surprised to find that he
+could draw so well.</p>
+
+<p>"We will talk about the matter after supper," she said. She had told
+Paul many times, that, if he was justly punished at school, he must
+expect a second punishment at home; but she wanted to think awhile
+before deciding what to do. She was pleased to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>know that her boy could
+not be bribed to do what his conscience told him he ought not to do, and
+that he was manly and truthful. She would rather follow him to the
+church-yard and lay him in his grave beneath the bending elms, than to
+have him untruthful or wicked.</p>
+
+<p>The evening passed away. Paul sat before the fire, looking steadily into
+the coals. He was sober and thoughtful, wondering what his mother would
+say at last. The clock struck nine. It was his bedtime. He went and
+stood by her side once more. "You are not angry with me, mother, are
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my son. I do not think that you deserved so severe a punishment. I
+am rejoiced to know that you are truthful, and that you despise a mean
+act. Be always as you have been to-night in telling the truth, and I
+never shall be angry with you."</p>
+
+<p>He threw his arms around her neck, and gave way to tears, such as Cipher
+could not extort by his pounding. She gave him a good-night kiss,&mdash;so
+sweet that it seemed to lie upon his lips all through the night.</p>
+
+<p>"God bless you, Paul," said the Pensioner.</p>
+
+<p>Paul climbed the creaking stairs, and knelt with an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>overflowing heart
+to say his evening prayer. He spoke the words earnestly when he asked
+God to take care of his mother and grandfather. He was very happy. He
+looked out through the crevices in the walls, and saw the stars and the
+moon flooding the landscape with silver light. There was sweet music in
+the air,&mdash;the merry melody of the water murmuring by the mill, the
+cheerful chirping of the crickets, and the lullaby of the winds, near at
+hand and far away, putting him in mind of the choirs on earth and the
+choirs in heaven. "Don't mind it, Paul!" were the words they sung, so
+sweetly and tenderly that for many days they rang in his ears.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h2>HARD TIMES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>How lonesome the days when dear friends leave us to return no more, whom
+we never shall see again on earth, who will send us no message or letter
+of love from the far distant land whither they have gone! It tries our
+hearts and brings tears to our eyes to lay them in the ground. But shall
+we never, never see them again? Yes, when we have taken the same
+journey, when we have closed our eyes on earth and opened them in
+heaven.</p>
+
+<p>As the months rolled by, the Pensioner's eyes grew dim. He became weak
+and feeble. "The Pensioner won't stand it long," the people said.</p>
+
+<p>He did not rise one morning when breakfast was ready.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, grandpa," said Paul, opening the bedroom door and calling him;
+but there was no reply. He lay as if asleep; but his brow was cold, and
+his heart had stopped beating. He had died calmly and peacefully, and
+was forever at rest.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p><p>It was a sad day to Paul when he followed the body of his dear old
+grandfather to the grave; but when he stood by his coffin, and looked
+for the last time upon his grandfather's face, and saw how peaceful it
+was and how pleasant the smile which rested upon it, as if he was
+beholding beautiful scenes,&mdash;when Paul remembered how good he was, he
+could not feel it in his soul to say, "Come back, Grandpa"; he would be
+content as it was. But the days were long and dreary, and so were the
+nights. Many the hours which Paul passed lying awake in his bed, looking
+through the crevices of the poor old house, and watching the stars and
+the clouds as they went sailing by. So he was sailing on, and the
+question would come up, Whither? He listened to the water falling over
+the dam by the mill, and to the chirping of the crickets, and the
+sighing of the wind, and the church-bell tolling the hours: they were
+sweet, yet mournful and solemn sounds. Tears stood in his eyes and
+rolled down his cheeks, as he thought that he and his mother were on
+earth, and his father and grandfather were praising God in the heavenly
+choirs. But he resolved to be good, to take care of his mother, and be
+her comfort and joy.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p><p>Hard times came on. How to live was the great question; for now that his
+grandfather was gone, they could have the pension no longer. The
+neighbors were very kind. Sometimes Mr. Middlekauf, Hans's father, who
+had a great farm, left a bag of meal for them when he came into the
+village. There was little work for Paul to do in the village; but he
+kept their own garden in good trim,&mdash;the onion-bed clear of weeds, and
+the potatoes well hilled. Very pleasant it was to work there, where the
+honey-bees hummed over the beds of sage, and among his mother's flowers,
+and where bumble-bees dusted their yellow jackets in the hollyhocks.
+Swallows also built their nests under the eaves of the house, and made
+the days pleasant with their merry twittering.</p>
+
+<p>The old Pensioner had been a land surveyor. The compass which he used
+was a poor thing; but he had run many lines with it through the grand
+old forest. One day, as Paul was weeding the onions, it occurred to him
+that he might become a surveyor; so he went into the house, took the
+compass from its case, and sat down to study it. He found his
+grandfather's surveying-book, and began to study that. Some parts were
+hard and dry; but having resolved <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>to master it, he was not the boy to
+give up a good resolution. It was not long before he found out how to
+run a line, how to set off angles, and how to ascertain the distance
+across a river or pond without measuring it. He went into the woods, and
+stripped great rolls of birch bark from the trees, carried them home,
+spread them out on the table, and plotted his lines with his dividers
+and ruler. He could not afford paper. He took great pleasure in making a
+sketch of the ground around the house, the garden, the orchard, the
+field, the road, and the river.</p>
+
+<p>The people of New Hope had long been discussing the project of building
+a new road to Fairview, which would cross the pond above the mill. But
+there was no surveyor in the region to tell them how long the bridge
+must be which they would have to build.</p>
+
+<p>"We will send up a kite, and thus get a string across the pond," said
+one of the citizens.</p>
+
+<p>"I can ascertain the distance easier than that," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Pimpleberry, the carpenter, who was to build the bridge, laughed,
+and looked with contempt upon him, Paul thought, because he was barefoot
+and had a patch on each knee.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p><p>"Have you ever measured it, Paul?" Judge Adams asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir; but I will do so just to let Mr. Pimpleberry see that I can do
+it."</p>
+
+<p>He ran into the house, brought out the compass, went down to the edge of
+the pond, drove a small stake in the ground, set his compass over it,
+and sighted a small oak-tree upon the other side of the pond. It
+happened that the tree was exactly south from the stake; then he turned
+the sights of his compass so that they pointed exactly east and west.
+Then he took Mr. Pimpleberry's ten-foot pole, and measured out fifty
+feet toward the west, and drove another stake. Then he set his compass
+there, and took another sight at the small oak-tree across the pond. It
+was not south now, but several degrees east of south. Then he turned his
+compass so that the sights would point just the same number of degrees
+to the east of north.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, Mr. Pimpleberry," said Paul, "I want you to stand out there, and
+hold your ten-foot pole just where I tell you, putting yourself in range
+with the stake I drove first and the tree across the pond."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Pimpleberry did as he was desired.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p><p>"Drive a stake where your pole stands," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Pimpleberry did so.</p>
+
+<p>"Now measure the distance from the one you have just driven to my first
+stake, and that will be the distance across the pond," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe it," said Mr. Pimpleberry.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul is right," said Judge Adams. "I understand the principle. He has
+done it correctly."</p>
+
+<p>The Judge was proud of him. Mr. Pimpleberry and Mr. Funk, and several
+other citizens, were astonished; for they had no idea that Paul could do
+anything of the kind. Notwithstanding Paul had given the true distance,
+he received no thanks from any one; yet he didn't care for that; for he
+had shown Mr. Pimpleberry that he could do it, and that was glory
+enough.</p>
+
+<p>Paul loved fun as well as ever. Rare times he had at school. One windy
+day, a little boy, when he entered the school-room, left the door open.
+"Go back and shut the door," shouted Mr. Cipher, who was very irritable
+that morning. Another boy entered, and left it open. Mr. Cipher was
+angry, and spoke to the whole school: "Any one who comes in to-day and
+does not shut the door will get a flogging. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>Now remember!" Being very
+awkward in his manners, inefficient in government, and shallow-brained
+and vain, he commanded very little respect from the scholars.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys, there is a chance for us to have a jolly time with Cipher," said
+Paul at recess.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" Hans Middlekauf asked, ready for fun of any sort. The boys
+gathered round, for they knew that Paul was a capital hand in inventing
+games.</p>
+
+<p>"You remember what Cipher said about leaving the door open."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what of it?" Hans Middlekauf asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Let every one of us show him that we can obey him. When he raps for us
+to go in, I want you all to form in line. I'll lead off, go in and shut
+the door; you follow next, Hans, and be sure and shut the door; you come
+next, Philip; then Michael, and so on,&mdash;every one shutting the door. If
+you don't, remember that Cipher has promised to flog you."</p>
+
+<p>The boys saw through the joke, and laughed heartily. "Jingo, that is a
+good one, Paul. Cipher will be as mad as a March hare. I'll make the old
+door rattle," said Hans.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p><p>Rap&mdash;rap&mdash;rap&mdash;rap! went the master's ruler upon the window.</p>
+
+<p>"Fall into line, boys," said Paul. They obeyed orders as if he were a
+general. "Now remember, every one of you, to shut the door just as soon
+as you are in. Do it quick, and take your seats. Don't laugh, but be as
+sober as deacons." There was giggling in the ranks. "Silence!" said
+Paul. The boys smoothed their faces. Paul opened the door, stepped in,
+and shut it in an instant,&mdash;slam! Hans opened it,&mdash;slam! it went, with a
+jar which made the windows rattle. Philip followed,&mdash;slam! Michael
+next,&mdash;bang! it went, jarring the house.</p>
+
+<p>"Let the door be open," said Cipher; but Michael was in his seat;
+and&mdash;bang! again,&mdash;slam!&mdash;bang!&mdash;slam!&mdash;bang! it went.</p>
+
+<p>"Let it be open, I say!" he roared, but the boys outside did not hear
+him, and it kept going,&mdash;slam!&mdash;slam!&mdash;slam!&mdash;bang!&mdash;bang!&mdash;bang!&mdash;till
+the fiftieth boy was in.</p>
+
+<p>"You started that, sir," Cipher said, addressing Paul, for he had
+discovered that Paul Parker loved fun, and was a leading spirit among
+the boys.</p>
+
+<p>"I obeyed your orders, sir," Paul replied ready <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>to burst into a roar at
+the success of his experiment.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you not tell the boys to slam the door as hard as they could?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir. I told them to remember what you had said, and that, if they
+didn't shut the door, they would get a flogging."</p>
+
+<p>"That is just what he said, Master," said Hans Middlekauf, brimming over
+with fun. Cipher could not dispute it. He saw that they had literally
+obeyed his orders, and that he had been outwitted. He did not know what
+to do; and being weak and inefficient, did nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Paul loved hunting and fishing; on Saturday afternoons he made the woods
+ring with the crack of his grandfather's gun, bringing squirrels from
+the tallest trees, and taking quails upon the wing. He was quick to see,
+and swift to take aim. He was cool of nerve, and so steady of aim that
+he rarely missed. It was summer, and he wore no shoes. He walked so
+lightly that he scarcely rustled a leaf. The partridges did not see him
+till he was close upon them, and then, before they could rise from their
+cover flash!&mdash;bang!&mdash;and they went into his bag.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p><p>One day as he was on his return from the woods, with the gun upon his
+shoulder, and the powder-horn at his side, he saw a gathering of people
+in the street. Men, women, and children were out,&mdash;the women without
+bonnets. He wondered what was going on. Some women were wringing their
+hands; and all were greatly excited.</p>
+
+<p>"O dear, isn't it dreadful!" "What will become of us?" "The Lord have
+mercy upon us!"&mdash;were the expressions which he heard. Then they wrung
+their hands again, and moaned.</p>
+
+<p>"What is up?" he asked of Hans Middlekauf.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't you heard?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, there is a big black bull-dog, the biggest that ever was, that has
+run mad. He has bitten ever so many other dogs, and horses, sheep, and
+cattle. He is as big as a bear, and froths at the mouth. He is the
+savagest critter that ever was," said Hans in a breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't somebody kill him?"</p>
+
+<p>"They are afraid of him," said Hans.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think they might kill him," Paul replied.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p><p>"I reckon you would run as fast as anybody else, if he should show
+himself round here," said Hans.</p>
+
+<p>"There he is! Run! run! run for your lives!" was the sudden cry.</p>
+
+<p>Paul looked up the street, and saw a very large bull-dog coming upon the
+trot. Never was there such a scampering. People ran into the nearest
+houses, pellmell. One man jumped into his wagon, lashed his horse into a
+run, and went down the street, losing his hat in his flight, while Hans
+Middlekauf went up a tree.</p>
+
+<p>"Run, Paul! Run! he'll bite you!" cried Mr. Leatherby from the window of
+his shoe-shop. People looked out from the windows and repeated the cry,
+a half-dozen at once; but Paul took no notice of them. Those who were
+nearest him heard the click of his gun-lock. The dog came nearer,
+growling, and snarling, his mouth wide open, showing his teeth, his eyes
+glaring, and white froth dripping from his lips. Paul stood alone in the
+street. There was a sudden silence. It was a scene for a painter,&mdash;a
+barefoot boy in patched clothes, with an old hat on his head, standing
+calmly before the brute whose bite was death in its most terrible form.
+One thought <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>had taken possession of Paul's mind, that he ought to kill
+the dog.</p>
+
+<p>Nearer, nearer, came the dog; he was not a rod off. Paul had read that
+no animal can withstand the steady gaze of the human eye. He looked the
+dog steadily in the face. He held his breath. Not a nerve trembled. The
+dog stopped, looked at Paul a moment, broke into a louder growl, opened
+his jaws wider, his eyes glaring more wildly, and stepped slowly
+forward. Now or never, Paul thought, was his time. The breach of the gun
+touched his shoulder; his eye ran along the barrel,&mdash;bang! the dog
+rolled over with a yelp and a howl, but was up again, growling and
+trying to get at Paul, who in an instant seized his gun by the barrel,
+and brought the breech down upon the dog's skull, giving him blow after
+blow.</p>
+
+<p>"Kill him! kill him!" shouted the people from the windows.</p>
+
+<p>"Give it to him! Mash his head!" cried Hans from the tree.</p>
+
+<p>The dog soon became a mangled and bloody mass of flesh and bones. The
+people came out from their houses.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span></p><p>"That was well done for a boy," said Mr. Funk.</p>
+
+<p>"Or for a man either," said Mr. Chrome, who came up and patted Paul on
+his back.</p>
+
+<p>"I should have thrown my lapstone at him, if I could have got my window
+open," said Mr. Leatherby. Mr. Noggin, the cooper, who had taken refuge
+in Leatherby's shop, afterwards said that Leatherby was frightened half
+to death, and kept saying, "Just as like as not he will make a spring
+and dart right through the window!"</p>
+
+<p>"Nobly, bravely done, Paul," said Judge Adams. "Let me shake hands with
+you, my boy." He and Mrs. Adams and Azalia had seen it all from their
+parlor window.</p>
+
+<p>"O Paul, I was afraid he would bite and kill you, or that your gun would
+miss fire. I trembled all over just like a leaf," said Azalia, still
+pale and trembling. "O, I am so glad you have killed him!" She looked up
+into his face earnestly, and there was such a light in her eyes, that
+Paul was glad he had killed the dog, for her sake.</p>
+
+<p>"Weren't you afraid, Paul?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"No. If I had been afraid, I should have missed him, perhaps; I made up
+my mind to kill him, and what was the use of being afraid?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p><p>Many were the praises bestowed upon Paul. "How noble! how heroic!" the
+people said. Hans told the story to all the boys in the village. "Paul
+was just as cool as&mdash;cool as&mdash;a cucumber," he said, that being the best
+comparison he could think of. The people came and looked at the dog, to
+see how large he was, and how savage, and went away saying, "I am glad
+he is dead, but I don't see how Paul had the courage to face him."</p>
+
+<p>Paul went home and told his mother what had happened. She turned pale
+while listening to the story, and held her breath, and clasped her
+hands; but when he had finished, and when she thought that, if Paul had
+not killed the dog, many might have been bitten, she was glad, and said,
+"You did right, my son. It is our duty to face danger if we can do
+good." A tear glistened in her eye as she kissed him. "God bless you,
+Paul," she said, and smiled upon him through her tears.</p>
+
+<p>All the dogs which had been bitten were killed to prevent them from
+running mad. A hard time of it the dogs of New Hope had, for some which
+had not been bitten did not escape the dog-killers, who went through the
+town knocking them over with clubs.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p><p>Although Paul was so cool and courageous in the moment of danger, he
+trembled and felt weak afterwards when he thought of the risk he had
+run. That night when he said his evening prayer, he thanked God for
+having protected him. He dreamed it all over again in the night. He saw
+the dog coming at him with his mouth wide open, the froth dropping from
+his lips, and his eyes glaring. He heard his growl,&mdash;only it was not a
+growl, but a branch of the old maple which rubbed against the house when
+the wind blew. That was what set him a-dreaming. In his dream he had no
+gun, so he picked up the first thing he could lay his hands on, and let
+drive at the dog. Smash! there was a great racket, and a jingling of
+glass. Paul was awake in an instant, and found that he had jumped out of
+bed, and was standing in the middle of the floor, and that he had
+knocked over the spinning-wheel, and a lot of old trumpery, and had
+thrown one of his grandfather's old boots through the window.</p>
+
+<p>"What in the world are you up to, Paul?" his mother asked, calling from
+the room below, in alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"Killing the dog a second time, mother," Paul replied, laughing and
+jumping into bed again.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h2>MERRY TIMES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>When the long northeast storms set in, and the misty clouds hung over
+the valley, and went hurrying away to the west, brushing the tops of the
+trees; when the rain, hour after hour, and day after day, fell aslant
+upon the roof of the little old house; when the wind swept around the
+eaves, and dashed in wild gusts against the windows, and moaned and
+wailed in the forests,&mdash;then it was that Paul sometimes felt his spirits
+droop, for the circumstances of life were all against him. He was poor.
+His dear, kind mother was sick. She had worked day and night to keep
+that terrible wolf from the door, which is always prowling around the
+houses of poor people. But the wolf had come, and was looking in at the
+windows. There was a debt due Mr. Funk for rice, sugar, biscuit, tea,
+and other things which Doctor Arnica said his mother must have. There
+was the doctor's bill. The flour-barrel was getting low, and the
+meal-bag was almost empty. Paul saw the wolf <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>every night as he lay in
+his bed, and he wished he could kill it.</p>
+
+<p>When his mother was taken sick, he left school and became her nurse. It
+was hard for him to lay down his books, for he loved them, but it was
+pleasant to wait upon her. The neighbors were kind. Azalia Adams often
+came tripping in with something nice,&mdash;a tumbler of jelly, or a plate of
+toast, which her mother had prepared; and she had such cheerful words,
+and spoke so pleasantly, and moved round the room so softly, putting
+everything in order, that the room was lighter, even on the darkest
+days, for her presence.</p>
+
+<p>When, after weeks of confinement to her bed, Paul's mother was strong
+enough to sit in her easy-chair, Paul went out to fight the wolf. He
+worked for Mr. Middlekauf, in his cornfield. He helped Mr. Chrome paint
+wagons. He surveyed land, and ran lines for the farmers, earning a
+little here and a little there. As fast as he obtained a dollar, it went
+to pay the debts. As the seasons passed away,&mdash;spring, summer, and
+autumn,&mdash;Paul could see that the wolf howled less fiercely day by day.
+He denied himself everything, except plain food. He <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>was tall, stout,
+hearty, and rugged. The winds gave him health; his hands were hard, but
+his heart was tender. When through with his day's work, though his bones
+ached and his eyes were drowsy, he seldom went to sleep without first
+studying awhile, and closing with a chapter from the Bible, for he
+remembered what his grandfather often said,&mdash;that a chapter from the
+Bible was a good thing to sleep on.</p>
+
+<p>The cool and bracing breezes of November, the nourishing food which Paul
+obtained, brought the color once more to his mother's cheeks; and when
+at length she was able to be about the house, they had a jubilee,&mdash;a
+glad day of thanksgiving,&mdash;for, in addition to this blessing of health,
+Paul had killed the wolf, and the debts were all paid.</p>
+
+<p>As the winter came on, the subject of employing Mr. Rhythm to teach a
+singing-school was discussed. Mr. Quaver, a tall, slim man, with a long,
+red nose, had led the choir for many years. He had a loud voice, and
+twisted his words so badly, that his singing was like the blare of a
+trumpet. On Sundays, after Rev. Mr. Surplice read the hymn, the people
+were accustomed to hear a loud Hawk! from Mr. Quaver, as he tossed his
+tobacco-quid into a spittoon, and an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span>Ahem! from Miss Gamut. She was the
+leading first treble, a small lady with a sharp, shrill voice. Then Mr.
+Fiddleman sounded the key on the bass-viol, do-mi-sol-do, helping the
+trebles and tenors climb the stairs of the scale; then he hopped down
+again, and rounded off with a thundering swell at the bottom, to let
+them know he was safely down, and ready to go ahead. Mr. Quaver led, and
+the choir followed like sheep, all in their own way and fashion.</p>
+
+<p>The people had listened to this style of music till they were tired of
+it. They wanted a change, and decided to engage Mr. Rhythm, a nice young
+man, to teach a singing-school for the young folks. "We have a hundred
+boys and girls here in the village, who ought to learn to sing, so that
+they can sit in the singing-seats, and praise God," said Judge Adams.</p>
+
+<p>But Mr. Quaver opposed the project. "The young folks want a frolic,
+sir," he said; "yes, sir, a frolic, a high time. Rhythm will be teaching
+them newfangled notions. You know, Judge, that I hate flummididdles; I
+go for the good old things, sir. The old tunes which have stood the wear
+and tear of time, and the good old style of singing, sir."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p><p>Mr. Quaver did not say all he thought, for he could see that, if the
+singing-school was kept, he would be in danger of losing his position as
+chorister. But, notwithstanding his opposition, Mr. Rhythm was engaged
+to teach the school. Paul determined to attend. He loved music.</p>
+
+<p>"You haven't any coat fit to wear," said his mother. "I have altered
+over your grandfather's pants and vest for you, but I cannot alter his
+coat. You will have to stay at home, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't do that, mother, for Mr. Rhythm is one of the best teachers
+that ever was, and I don't want to miss the chance. I'll wear grandpa's
+coat just as it is."</p>
+
+<p>"The school will laugh at you."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, let them laugh, I sha'n't stay at home for that. I guess I can
+stand it," said Paul, resolutely.</p>
+
+<p>The evening fixed upon for the school to commence arrived. All the young
+folks in the town were there. Those who lived out of the village,&mdash;the
+farmers' sons and daughters,&mdash;came in red, yellow, and green wagons. The
+girls wore close-fitting hoods with pink linings, which they called
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span>"kiss-me-if-ye-dares." Their cheeks were all aglow with the excitement
+of the occasion. When they saw Mr. Rhythm, how pleasant and smiling he
+was,&mdash;when they heard his voice, so sweet and melodious,&mdash;when they saw
+how spryly he walked, as if he meant to accomplish what he had
+undertaken,&mdash;they said to one another, "How different he is from Mr.
+Quaver!"</p>
+
+<p>Paul was late on the first evening; for when he put on his grandfather's
+coat, his mother planned a long while to see if there was not some way
+by which she could make it look better. Once she took the shears and was
+going to cut off the tail, but Paul stopped her. "I don't want it
+curtailed, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"It makes you look like a little old man, Paul; I wouldn't go."</p>
+
+<p>"If I had better clothes, I should wear them, mother; but as I haven't,
+I shall wear these. I hope to earn money enough some time to get a
+better coat; but grandpa wore this, and I am not ashamed to wear what he
+wore," he replied, more resolute than ever. Perhaps, if he could have
+seen how he looked, he would not have been quite so <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>determined, for the
+sleeves hung like bags on his arms, and the tail almost touched the
+floor.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Rhythm had just rapped the scholars to their seats when Paul
+entered. There was a tittering, a giggle, then a roar of laughter. Mr.
+Rhythm looked round to see what was the matter, and smiled. For a moment
+Paul's courage failed him. It was not so easy to be laughed at as he had
+imagined. He was all but ready to turn about and leave the room. "No I
+won't, I'll face it out," he said to himself, walking deliberately to a
+seat, and looking bravely round, as if asking, "What are you laughing
+at?"</p>
+
+<p>There was something in his manner which instantly won Mr. Rhythm's
+respect, and which made him ashamed of himself for having laughed.
+"Silence! No more laughing," he said; but, notwithstanding the command,
+there was a constant tittering among the girls. Mr. Rhythm began by
+saying, "We will sing Old Hundred. I want you all to sing, whether you
+can sing right or not." He snapped his tuning-fork, and began. The
+school followed, each one singing,&mdash;putting in sharps, flats, naturals,
+notes, and rests, just as they pleased. "Very well. Good volume of
+sound. Only I don't think Old <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>Hundred ever was sung so before, or ever
+will be again," said the master, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>Michael Murphy was confident that he sang gloriously, though he never
+varied his tone up or down. He was ciphering in fractions at school, and
+what most puzzled him were the figures set to the bass. He wondered if
+6/4 was a vulgar fraction, and if so, he thought it would be better to
+express it as a mixed number, 1&frac12;.</p>
+
+<p>During the evening, Mr. Rhythm, noticing that Michael sang without any
+variation of tone, said, "Now, Master Murphy, please sing <i>la</i> with
+me";&mdash;and Michael sang bravely, not frightened in the least.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. Now please sing it a little higher."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>La</i>," sang Michael on the same pitch, but louder.</p>
+
+<p>"Not louder, but higher."</p>
+
+<p>"<span class="smcap">La</span>!" responded Michael, still louder, but with the pitch unchanged.</p>
+
+<p>There was tittering among the girls.</p>
+
+<p>"Not so, but thus,"&mdash;and Mr. Rhythm gave an example, first low, then
+high. "Now once more."</p>
+
+<p>"LA!" bellowed Michael on the same pitch.</p>
+
+<p>Daphne Dare giggled aloud, and the laughter, like <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>a train of powder,
+ran through the girls' seats over to the boys' side of the house, where
+it exploded in a loud haw! haw! Michael laughed with the others, but he
+did not know what for.</p>
+
+<p>Recess came. "Halloo, Grandpa! How are you, Old Pensioner? Your coat
+puckers under the arms, and there is a wrinkle in the back," said Philip
+Funk to Paul. His sister Fanny pointed her finger at him; and Paul heard
+her whisper to one of the girls, "Did you ever see such a monkey?"</p>
+
+<p>It nettled him, and so, losing his temper, he said to Philip, "Mind your
+business."</p>
+
+<p>"Just hear Grandaddy Parker, the old gentleman in the bob-tailed coat,"
+said Philip.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a puppy," said Paul. But he was vexed with himself for having
+said it. If he had held his tongue, and kept his temper, and braved the
+sneers of Philip in silence, he might have won a victory; for he
+remembered a Sunday-school lesson upon the text, "He that ruleth his
+spirit is greater than he that taketh a city." As it was, he had
+suffered a defeat, and went home that night disgusted with himself.</p>
+
+<p>Pleasant were those singing-school evenings. Under <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span>Mr. Rhythm's
+instructions the young people made rapid progress. Then what fine times
+they had at recess, eating nuts, apples, and confectionery, picking out
+the love-rhymes from the sugar-cockles!</p>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"I cannot tell the love<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I feel for you, my dove."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>was Philip's gift to Azalia. Paul had no money to purchase sweet things
+at the store; his presents were nuts which he had gathered in the
+autumn. In the kindness of his heart he gave a double-handful to
+Philip's sister, Fanny; but she turned up her nose, and let them drop
+upon the floor.</p>
+
+<p>Society in New Hope was mixed. Judge Adams, Colonel Dare, and Mr. Funk
+were rich men. Colonel Dare was said to be worth a hundred thousand
+dollars. No one knew what Mr. Funk was worth; but he had a store, and a
+distillery, which kept smoking day and night and Sunday, without
+cessation, grinding up corn, and distilling it into whiskey. There was
+always a great black smoke rising from the distillery-chimney. The fires
+were always roaring, and the great vats steaming. Colonel Dare made his
+money by buying and selling land, wool, corn, and cattle. Judge Adams
+was an able lawyer, known far <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span>and near as honest, upright, and learned.
+He had a large practice; but though the Judge and Colonel were so
+wealthy, and lived in fine houses, they did not feel that they were
+better than their neighbors, so that there was no aristocracy in the
+place, but the rich and the poor were alike respected and esteemed.</p>
+
+<p>The New Year was at hand, and Daphne Dare was to give a party. She was
+Colonel Dare's only child,&mdash;a laughing, blue-eyed, sensible girl, who
+attended the village school, and was in the same class with Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Whom shall I invite to my party, father?" she asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Just whom you please, my dear," said the Colonel.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what to do about inviting Paul Parker. Fanny Funk says she
+don't want to associate with a fellow who is so poor that he wears his
+grandfather's old clothes," said Daphne.</p>
+
+<p>"Poverty is not a crime, my daughter. I was poor once,&mdash;poor as Paul is.
+Money is not virtue, my dear. It is a good thing to have; but persons
+are not necessarily bad because they are poor, neither are they good
+because they are rich," said the Colonel.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p><p>"Should you invite him, father, if you were in my place?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not wish to say, my child, for I want you to decide the matter
+yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Azalia says that she would invite him; but Fanny says that if I invite
+him, she shall not come."</p>
+
+<p>"Aha!" The Colonel opened his eyes wide. "Well, my dear, you are not to
+be influenced wholly by what Azalia says, and you are to pay no
+attention to what Fanny threatens. You make the party. You have a
+perfect right to invite whom you please; and if Fanny don't choose to
+come, she has the privilege of staying away. I think, however, that she
+will not be likely to stay at home even if you give Paul an invitation.
+Be guided by your own sense of right, my darling. That is the best
+guide."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you'd give Paul a coat, father. You can afford to, can't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but he can't afford to receive it," Daphne looked at her father in
+amazement. "He can't afford to receive such a gift from me, because it
+is better for him to fight the battle of life without any help from me
+or anybody else at present. A good man offered to help me when I was a
+poor boy; but I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>thanked him, and said, 'No, sir.' I had made up my mind
+to cut my own way, and I guess Paul has made up his mind to do the same
+thing," said the Colonel.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall invite him. I'll let Fanny know that I have a mind of my own,"
+said Daphne, with determination in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>Her father kissed her, but kept his thoughts to himself. He appeared to
+be pleased, and Daphne thought that he approved her decision.</p>
+
+<p>The day before New Year Paul received a neatly folded note, addressed to
+Mr. Paul Parker. How funny it looked! It was the first time in his life
+that he had seen "Mr." prefixed to his name. He opened it, and read that
+Miss Daphne Dare would receive her friends on New Year's eve at seven
+o'clock. A great many thoughts passed through his mind. How could he go
+and wear his grandfather's coat? At school he was on equal footing with
+all; but to be one of a party in a richly furnished parlor, where
+Philip, Fanny, and Azalia, and other boys and girls whose fathers had
+money, could turn their backs on him and snub him, was very different.
+It was very kind in Daphne to invite him, and ought he not to accept her
+invitation? Would she not think <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>it a slight if he did not go? What
+excuse could he offer if he stayed away? None, except that he had no
+nice clothes. But she knew that, yet she had invited him. She was a
+true-hearted girl, and would not have asked him if she had not wanted
+him. Thus he turned the matter over, and decided to go.</p>
+
+<p>But when the time came, Paul was in no haste to be there. Two or three
+times his heart failed him, while on his way; but looking across the
+square, and seeing Colonel Dare's house all aglow,&mdash;lights in the
+parlors and chambers, he pushed on resolutely, determined to be manly,
+notwithstanding his poverty. He reached the house, rang the bell, and
+was welcomed by Daphne in the hall.</p>
+
+<p>"Good evening, Paul. You are very late. I was afraid you were not
+coming. All the others are here," she said, her face beaming with
+happiness, joy, and excitement. She was elegantly dressed, for she was
+her father's pet, and he bought everything for her which he thought
+would make her happy.</p>
+
+<p>"Better late than never, isn't it?" said Paul, not knowing what else to
+say.</p>
+
+<p>Although the party had been assembled nearly an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>hour, there had been no
+games. The girls were huddled in groups on one side of the room, and the
+boys on the other, all shy, timid, and waiting for somebody to break the
+ice. Azalia was playing the piano, while Philip stood by her side. He
+was dressed in a new suit of broadcloth, and wore an eye-glass. Fanny
+was present, though she had threatened not to attend if Paul was
+invited. She had changed her mind. She thought it would be better to
+attend and make the place too hot for Paul; she would get up such a
+laugh upon him that he would be glad to take his hat and sneak away, and
+never show himself in respectable society again. Philip was in the
+secret, and so were a dozen others who looked up to Philip and Fanny.
+Daphne entered the parlor, followed by Paul. There was a sudden
+tittering, snickering, and laughing. Paul stopped and bowed, then stood
+erect.</p>
+
+<p>"I declare, if there isn't old Grandaddy," said Philip, squinting
+through his eye-glass.</p>
+
+<p>"O my! how funny!" said a girl from Fairview.</p>
+
+<p>"Ridiculous! It is a shame!" said Fanny, turning up her nose.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is he?" the Fairview girl asked.</p>
+
+<p>"A poor fellow who lives on charity,&mdash;so poor that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span>he wears his
+grandfather's old clothes. We don't associate with him," was Fanny's
+reply.</p>
+
+<p>Paul heard it. His cheek flushed, but he stood there, determined to
+brave it out. Azalia heard and saw it all. She stopped playing in the
+middle of a measure, rose from her seat with her cheeks all aflame, and
+walked towards Paul, extending her hand and welcoming him. "I am glad
+you have come, Paul. We want you to wake us up. We have been half
+asleep," she said.</p>
+
+<p>The laughter ceased instantly, for Azalia was queen among them.
+Beautiful in form and feature, her chestnut hair falling in luxuriant
+curls upon her shoulders, her dark hazel eyes flashing indignantly, her
+cheeks like blush-roses, every feature of her countenance lighted up by
+the excitement of the moment, her bearing subdued the conspiracy at
+once, hushing the derisive laughter, and compelling respect, not only
+for herself, but for Paul. It required an effort on his part to keep
+back the tears from his eyes, so grateful was he for her kindness.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Paul, we want you to be our general, and tell us what to do," said
+Daphne.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p><p>"Very well, let us have Copenhagen to begin with," he said.</p>
+
+<p>The ice was broken. Daphne brought in her mother's clothes-line, the
+chairs were taken from the room, and in five minutes the parlor was
+humming like a beehive.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see what you can find to like in that disagreeable creature,"
+said Philip to Azalia.</p>
+
+<p>"He is a good scholar, and kind to his mother, and you know how
+courageous he was when he killed that terrible dog," was her reply.</p>
+
+<p>"I think he is an impudent puppy. What right has he to thrust himself
+into good company, wearing his grandfather's old clothes?" Philip
+responded, dangling his eye-glass and running his soft hand through his
+hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul is poor; but I never have heard anything against his character,"
+said Azalia.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor folks ought to be kept out of good society," said Philip.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you say to that picture?" said Azalia, directing his attention
+towards a magnificent picture of Franklin crowned with laurel by the
+ladies of the court of France, which hung on the wall. "Benjamin
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>Franklin was a poor boy, and dipped candles for a living; but he became
+a great man."</p>
+
+<p>"Dipped candles! Why, I never heard of that before," said Philip,
+looking at the engraving through his eye-glass.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think it is any disgrace to Paul to be poor. I am glad that
+Daphne invited him," said Azalia, so resolutely that Philip remained
+silent. He was shallow-brained and ignorant, and thought it not best to
+hazard an exposure of his ignorance by pursuing the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>After Copenhagen they had Fox and Geese, and Blind-man's-buff. They
+guessed riddles and conundrums, had magic writing, questions and
+answers, and made the parlor, the sitting-room, the spacious halls, and
+the wide stairway ring with their merry laughter. How pleasant the
+hours! Time flew on swiftest wings. They had a nice supper,&mdash;sandwiches,
+tongue, ham, cakes, custards, floating-islands, apples, and nuts. After
+supper they had stories, serious and laughable, about ghosts and
+witches, till the clock in the dining-room held up both of its hands and
+pointed to the figure twelve, as if in amazement at their late staying.
+"Twelve o'clock! <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>Why, how short the evening has been!" said they, when
+they found how late it was. They had forgotten all about Paul's coat,
+for he had been the life of the party, suggesting something new when the
+games lagged. He was so gentlemanly, and laughed so heartily and
+pleasantly, and was so wide awake, and managed everything so well, that,
+notwithstanding the conspiracy to put him down, he had won the good will
+of all the party.</p>
+
+<p>During the evening Colonel Dare and Mrs. Dare entered the room. The
+Colonel shook hands with Paul, and said, "I am very happy to see you
+here to-night, Paul." It was spoken so heartily and pleasantly that Paul
+knew the Colonel meant it.</p>
+
+<p>The young gentlemen were to wait upon the young ladies home. Their
+hearts went pit-a-pat. They thought over whom to ask and what to say.
+They walked nervously about the hall, pulling on their gloves, while the
+girls were putting on their cloaks and hoods up stairs. They also were
+in a fever of expectation and excitement, whispering mysteriously, their
+hearts going like trip-hammers.</p>
+
+<p>Daphne stood by the door to bid her guests good night. "I am very glad
+that you came to-night, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span>Paul," she said, pressing his hand in
+gratitude, "I don't know what we should have done without you."</p>
+
+<p>"I have passed a very pleasant evening," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>Azalia came tripping down the stairs. "Shall I see you home, Azalia?"
+Paul asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Adams, shall I have the delightful pleasure of being permitted to
+escort you to your residence?" said Philip, with his most gallant air,
+at the same time pushing by Paul with a contemptuous look.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Philip, but I have an escort," said Azalia, accepting Paul's
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>The night was frosty and cold, though it was clear and pleasant. The
+full moon was high in the heavens, the air was still, and there were no
+sounds to break the peaceful silence, except the water dashing over the
+dam by the mill, the footsteps of the departing guests upon the frozen
+ground, and the echoing of their voices. Now that he was with Azalia
+alone, Paul wanted to tell her how grateful he was for all she had done
+for him; but he could only say, "I thank you, Azalia, for your kindness
+to me to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"O, don't mention it, Paul; I am glad if I have helped you. Good
+night."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span></p><p>How light-hearted he was! He went home, and climbed the creaking
+stairway, to his chamber. The moon looked in upon him, and smiled. He
+could not sleep, so happy was he. How sweet those parting words! The
+water babbled them to the rocks, and beyond the river in the grand old
+forest, where the breezes were blowing, there was a pleasant murmuring
+of voices, as if the elms and oaks were having a party, and all were
+saying, "We are glad if we have helped you."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h2>MUSIC AND PAINTING.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Philip went home alone from the party, out of sorts with himself, angry
+with Azalia, and boiling over with wrath toward Paul. He set his teeth
+together, and clenched his fist. He would like to blacken Paul's eyes
+and flatten his nose. The words of Azalia&mdash;"I know nothing against
+Paul's character"&mdash;rang in his ears and vexed him. He thought upon them
+till his steps, falling upon the frozen ground, seemed to say,
+"Character!&mdash;character!&mdash;character!" as if Paul had something which he
+had not.</p>
+
+<p>"So because he has character, and I haven't, you give me the mitten, do
+you, Miss Azalia?" he said, as if he was addressing Azalia.</p>
+
+<p>He knew that Paul had a good name. He was the best singer in the
+singing-school, and Mr. Rhythm often called upon him to sing in a duet
+with Azalia or Daphne. Sometimes he sang a solo so well, that the
+spectators whispered to one another, that, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>if Paul went on as he had
+begun, he would be ahead of Mr. Rhythm.</p>
+
+<p>Philip had left the singing-school. It was dull music to him to sit
+through the evening, and say "Down, left, right, up," and be drilled,
+hour after hour. It was vastly more agreeable to lounge in the bar-room
+of the tavern, with a half-dozen good fellows, smoking cigars, playing
+cards, taking a drink of whiskey, and, when it was time for the
+singing-school to break up, go home with the girls, then return to the
+tavern and carouse till midnight or later. To be cut out by Paul in his
+attentions to Azalia was intolerable.</p>
+
+<p>"Character!&mdash;character!&mdash;character!" said his boots all the while as he
+walked. He stopped short, and ground his heels into the frozen earth. He
+was in front of Miss Dobb's house.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Dobb was a middle-aged lady, who wore spectacles, had a sharp nose,
+a peaked chin, a pinched-up mouth, thin cheeks, and long, bony fingers.
+She kept the village school when Paul and Philip were small boys, and
+Paul used to think that she wanted to pick him to pieces, her fingers
+were so long and bony. She knew pretty much all that was going <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span>on in
+the village, for she visited somewhere every afternoon to find out what
+had happened. Captain Binnacle called her the Daily Advertiser.</p>
+
+<p>"You are the cause of my being jilted, you tattling old maid; you have
+told that I was a good-for-nothing scapegrace, and I'll pay you for it,"
+said Philip, shaking his fist at the house; and walked on again,
+meditating how to do it, his boots at each successive step saying,
+"Character! character!"</p>
+
+<p>He went home and tossed all night in his bed, not getting a wink of
+sleep, planning how to pay Miss Dobb, and upset Paul.</p>
+
+<p>The next night Philip went to bed earlier than usual, saying, with a
+yawn, as he took the light to go up stairs, "How sleepy I am!" But,
+instead of going to sleep, he never was more wide awake. He lay till all
+in the house were asleep, till he heard the clock strike twelve, then
+arose, went down stairs softly, carrying his boots, and, when outside
+the door, put them on. He looked round to see if there was any one
+astir; but the village was still,&mdash;there was not a light to be seen. He
+went to Mr. Chrome's shop, stopped, and looked round once more; but,
+seeing no one, raised a window and entered. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>moon streamed through
+the windows, and fell upon the floor, making the shop so light that he
+had no difficulty in finding Mr. Chrome's paint buckets and brushes.
+Then, with a bucket in his hand, he climbed out, closed the window, and
+went to Miss Dobb's. He approached softly, listening and looking to see
+if any one was about; but there were no footsteps except his own. He
+painted great letters on the side of the house, chuckling as he thought
+of what would happen in the morning.</p>
+
+<p>"There, Miss Vinegar, you old liar, I won't charge anything for that
+sign," he said, when he had finished. He left the bucket on the step,
+and went home, chuckling all the way.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning Miss Dobb saw a crowd of people in front of her house,
+looking towards it and laughing. Mr. Leatherby had come out from his
+shop; Mr. Noggin, the cooper, was there, smoking his pipe; also, Mrs.
+Shelbarke, who lived across the street. Philip was there. "That is a
+'cute trick, I vow," said he. Everybody was on a broad grin.</p>
+
+<p>"What in the world is going on, I should like to know!" said Miss Dobb,
+greatly wondering. "There <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>must be something funny. Why, they are
+looking at my house, as true as I am alive!"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Dobb was not a woman to be kept in the dark about anything a great
+while. She stepped to the front door, opened it, and with her
+pleasantest smile and softest tone of voice said: "Good morning,
+neighbors; you seem to be very much pleased at something. May I ask what
+you see to laugh at?"</p>
+
+<p>"Te-he-he-he!" snickered a little boy, who pointed to the side of the
+house, and the by-standers followed his lead, with a loud chorus of
+guffaws.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Dobb looked upon the wall, and saw, in red letters, as if she had
+gone into business, opened a store, and put out a sign,&mdash;"MISS
+DOBB, <span class="smcap">Lies, Scandal, Gossip, Wholesale and Retail</span>."</p>
+
+<p>She threw up her hands in horror. Her eyes flashed; she gasped for
+breath. There was a paint-bucket and brush on the door-step; on one side
+of the bucket she saw the word Chrome.</p>
+
+<p>"The villain! I'll make him smart for this," she said, running in,
+snatching her bonnet, and out again, making all haste towards Squire
+Capias's office, to have Mr. Chrome arrested.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p><p>The Squire heard her story. There was a merry twinkling of his eye, but
+he kept his countenance till she was through.</p>
+
+<p>"I do not think that Mr. Chrome did it; he is not such a fool as to
+leave his bucket and brush there as evidence against him; you had better
+let it rest awhile," said he.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Chrome laughed when he saw the sign. "I didn't do it; I was abed and
+asleep, as my wife will testify. Somebody stole my bucket and brush; but
+it is a good joke on Dobb, I'll be blamed if it isn't," said he.</p>
+
+<p>Who did it? That was the question.</p>
+
+<p>"I will give fifty dollars to know," said Miss Dobb, her lips quivering
+with anger.</p>
+
+<p>Philip heard her and said, "Isn't there a fellow who sometimes helps Mr.
+Chrome paint wagons?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I didn't think of him. It is just like him. There he comes now;
+I'll make him confess it." Miss Dobb's eyes flashed, her lips trembled,
+she was so angry. She remembered that one of the pigs which Paul
+painted, when he was a boy, was hers; she also remembered how he sent
+Mr. Smith's old white horse on a tramp after a bundle of hay.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p><p>Paul was on his way to Mr. Chrome's shop, to begin work for the day. He
+wondered at the crowd. He saw the sign, and laughed with the rest.</p>
+
+<p>"You did that, sir," said Miss Dobb, coming up to him, reaching out her
+long hand and clutching at him with her bony fingers, as if she would
+like to tear him to pieces. "You did it, you villain! Now you needn't
+deny it; you painted my pig once, and now you have done this. You are a
+mean, good-for-nothing scoundrel," she said, working herself into a
+terrible passion.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not do it," said Paul, nettled at the charge, and growing red in
+the face.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a liar! you show your guilt in your countenance," said Miss
+Dobb.</p>
+
+<p>Paul's face was on fire. Never till then had he been called a liar. He
+was about to tell her loudly, that she was a meddler, tattler, and
+hypocrite, but he remembered that he had read somewhere, that "he who
+loses his temper loses his cause," and did not speak the words. He
+looked her steadily in the face, and said calmly, "I did not do it," and
+went on to his work.</p>
+
+<p>Weeks went by. The singing-school was drawing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>to a close. Paul had made
+rapid progress. His voice was round, rich, full, and clear. He no longer
+appeared at school wearing his grandfather's coat, for he had worked for
+Mr. Chrome, painting wagons, till he had earned enough to purchase a new
+suit of clothes. Besides, it was discovered that he could survey land,
+and several of the farmers employed him to run the lines between their
+farms. Mr. Rhythm took especial pains to help him on in singing, and
+before winter was through he could master the crookedest anthem in the
+book. Daphne Dare was the best alto, Hans Middlekauf the best bass, and
+Azalia the best treble. Sometimes Mr. Rhythm had the four sing a
+quartette, or Azalia and Paul sang a duet. At times, the school sang,
+while he listened. "I want you to learn to depend upon yourselves," said
+he. Then it was that Paul's voice was heard above all others, so clear
+and distinct, and each note so exact in time that they felt he was their
+leader.</p>
+
+<p>One evening Mr. Rhythm called Paul into the floor, and gave him the
+rattan with which he beat time, saying, "I want you to be leader in this
+tune; I resign the command to you, and you are to do just as if I were
+not here." The blood rushed to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span>Paul's face, his knees trembled; but he
+felt that it was better to try and fail, than be a coward. He sounded
+the key, but his voice was husky and trembling. Fanny Funk, who had
+turned up her nose at Mr. Rhythm's proposition, giggled aloud, and there
+was laughing around the room. It nerved him in an instant. He opened his
+lips to shout, Silence! then he thought that they would not respect his
+authority, and would only laugh louder, which would make him appear
+ridiculous. He stood quietly and said, not in a husky voice, but calmly,
+pleasantly, and deliberately, "When the ladies have finished their
+laughter we will commence." The laughter ceased. He waited till the room
+was so still that they could hear the clock tick. "Now we will try it,"
+said he. They did not sing it right, and he made them go over it again
+and again, drilling them till they sang it so well that Mr. Rhythm and
+the spectators clapped their hands.</p>
+
+<p>"You will have a competent leader after I leave you," said Mr. Rhythm.
+Paul had gained this success by practice hour after hour, day after day,
+week after week, at home, till he was master of what he had undertaken.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p><p>The question came up in parish meeting, whether the school should join
+the choir? Mr. Quaver and the old members opposed it, but they were
+voted down. Nothing was said about having a new chorister, for no one
+wished to hurt Mr. Quaver's feelings by appointing Paul in his place;
+but the school did not relish the idea of being led by Mr. Quaver,
+while, on the other hand, the old singers did not mean to be
+overshadowed by the young upstarts.</p>
+
+<p>It was an eventful Sunday in New Hope when the singing-school joined the
+choir. The church was crowded. Fathers and mothers who seldom attended
+meeting were present to see their children in the singers' seats. The
+girls were dressed in white, for it was a grand occasion. Mr. Quaver and
+the old choir were early in their places. Mr. Quaver's red nose was
+redder than ever, and he had a stern look. He took no notice of the new
+singers, who stood in the background, not daring to take their seats,
+and not knowing what to do till Paul arrived.</p>
+
+<p>"Where shall we sit, sir?" Paul asked, respectfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Anywhere back there," said Mr. Quaver.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p><p>"We would like to have you assign us seats," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I have nothing to do about it; you may sit anywhere, and sing when you
+are a mind to, or hold your tongues," said Mr. Quaver, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; we will do so," said Paul, a little touched, telling the
+school to occupy the back seats. He was their acknowledged leader. He
+took his place behind Mr. Quaver, with Hans, Azalia, and Daphne near
+him. Mr. Quaver did not look round, neither did Miss Gamut, nor any of
+the old choir. They felt that the new-comers were intruders, who had no
+right there.</p>
+
+<p>The bell ceased its tolling, and Rev. Mr. Surplice ascended the
+pulpit-stairs. He was a venerable man. He had preached many years, and
+his long, white hair, falling upon his shoulders, seemed to crown him
+with a saintly glory. The people, old and young, honored, respected, and
+loved him; for he had grave counsel for the old, kind words for the
+young, and pleasant stories for the little ones. Everybody said that he
+was ripening for heaven. He rejoiced when he looked up into the gallery
+and saw such a goodly array of youth, beauty, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>loveliness. Then,
+bowing his head in prayer, and looking onward to the eternal years, he
+seemed to see them members of a heavenly choir, clothed in white, and
+singing, "Alleluia! salvation and glory and honor and power unto the
+Lord our God!"</p>
+
+<p>After prayer, he read a hymn:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"Now shall my head be lifted high<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Above my foes around;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And songs of joy and victory<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Within thy temple sound."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>There was a smile of satisfaction on Mr. Quaver's countenance while
+selecting the tune, as if he had already won a victory. There was a
+clearing of throats; then Mr. Fiddleman gave the key on the bass-viol.
+As Mr. Quaver had told Paul that the school might sing when they
+pleased, or hold their tongues, he determined to act independently of
+Mr. Quaver.</p>
+
+<p>"After one measure," whispered Paul. He knew they would watch his hand,
+and commence in exact time. The old choir was accustomed to sing without
+regard to time.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Quaver commenced louder than usual,&mdash;twisting, turning, drawling,
+and flattening the first word <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span>as if it was spelled n-e-a-w. Miss Gamut
+and Mr. Cleff and the others dropped in one by one. Not a sound as yet
+from the school. All stood eagerly watching Paul. He cast a quick glance
+right and left. His hand moved,&mdash;down&mdash;left&mdash;right&mdash;up. They burst into
+the tune, fifty voices together. It was like the broadside of a
+fifty-gun frigate. The old choir was confounded. Miss Gamut stopped
+short. Captain Binnacle, who once was skipper of a schooner on the
+Lakes, and who owned a pew in front of the pulpit, said afterwards, that
+she was thrown on her beam-ends as if struck by a nor'wester and all her
+main-sail blown into ribbons in a jiffy. Mr. Quaver, though confused for
+a moment, recovered; Miss Gamut also righted herself. Though confounded,
+they were not yet defeated. Mr. Quaver stamped upon the floor, which
+brought Mr. Cleff to his senses. Mr. Quaver looked as if he would say,
+"Put down the upstarts!" Mr. Fiddleman played with all his might; Miss
+Gamut screamed at the top of her voice, while Mr. Cleff puffed out his
+fat cheeks and became red in the face, doing his utmost to drown them.</p>
+
+<p>The people looked and listened in amazement. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>Mr. Surplice stood
+reverently in his place. Those who sat nearest the pulpit said that
+there was a smile on his countenance.</p>
+
+<p>It was a strange fugue, but each held on to the end of the verse, the
+young folks getting out ahead of Mr. Quaver and his flock, and having a
+breathing spell before commencing the second stanza. So they went
+through the hymn. Then Mr. Surplice read from the Bible: "Behold how
+good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! As
+the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of
+Zion; for there the Lord commanded his blessing forevermore."</p>
+
+<p>Turning to the choir, he said, "My dear friends, I perceive that there
+is a want of unity in your services, as singers of the sanctuary;
+therefore, that the peace and harmony of the place may not be broken, I
+propose that, when the next psalm is given, the old members of the choir
+sing the first stanza, and the new members the second, and so through
+the hymn. By thus doing there will be no disagreement."</p>
+
+<p>Each one&mdash;old and young&mdash;resolved to do his best, for comparisons would
+be made. It would be the struggle for victory.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p><p>"I will give them a tune which will break them down," Mr. Quaver
+whispered to Miss Gamut, as he selected one with a tenor and treble
+duet, which he and Miss Gamut had sung together a great many times.
+Louder and stronger sang Mr. Quaver. Miss Gamut cleared her throat, with
+the determination to sing as she never sang before, and to show the
+people what a great difference there was between her voice and Azalia
+Adams's. But the excitement of the moment set her heart in a flutter
+when she came to the duet, which ran up out of the scale. She aimed at
+high G, but instead of striking it in a round full tone, as she intended
+and expected, she only made a faint squeak on F, which sounded so funny
+that the people down stairs smiled in spite of their efforts to keep
+sober. Her breath was gone. She sank upon her seat, covered her face
+with her hands, mortified and ashamed. Poor Miss Gamut! But there was a
+sweet girl behind her who pitied her very much, and who felt like
+crying, so quick was her sympathy for all in trouble and sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Quaver was provoked. Never was his nose so red and fiery. Determined
+not to be broken down, he carried the verse through, ending with a roar,
+as if to say, "I am not defeated."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p><p>The young folks now had their turn. There was a measure of time, the
+exact movement, the clear chord, swelling into full chorus, then
+becoming fainter, till it seemed like the murmuring of voices far away.
+How charming the duet! Where Mr. Quaver blared like a trumpet, Paul sang
+in clear, melodious notes; and where Miss Gamut broke down, Azalia
+glided so smoothly and sweetly that every heart was thrilled. Then, when
+all joined in the closing strain, the music rolled in majesty along the
+roof, encircled the pulpit, went down the winding stairs, swept along
+the aisles, entered the pews, and delighted the congregation. Miss Gamut
+still continued to sit with her hands over her face. Mr. Quaver nudged
+her to try another verse, but she shook her head. Paul waited for Mr.
+Quaver, who was very red in the face, and who felt that it was of no use
+to try again without Miss Gamut. He waved his hand to Paul as a signal
+to go on. The victory was won. Through the sermon Mr. Quaver thought the
+matter over. He felt very uncomfortable, but at noon he shook hands with
+Paul, and said, "I resign my place to you. I have been chorister for
+thirty years, and have had my day." He made the best <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span>of his defeat, and
+in the afternoon, with all the old singers, sat down stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Judge Adams bowed to Paul very cordially at the close of the service.
+Colonel Dare shook hands with him, and Rev. Mr. Surplice, with a
+pleasant smile, said, "May the Lord be with you." It was spoken so
+kindly and heartily, and was so like a benediction, that the tears came
+to Paul's eyes; for he felt that he was unworthy of such kindness.</p>
+
+<p>There was one person in the congregation who looked savagely at
+him,&mdash;Miss Dobb. "It is a shame," she said, when the people came out of
+church, speaking loud enough to be heard by all, "that such a young
+upstart and hypocrite should be allowed to worm himself into Mr.
+Quaver's seat." She hated Paul, and determined to put him down if
+possible.</p>
+
+<p>Paul went home from church pleased that the school had done so well, and
+grateful for all the kind words he heard; but as he retired for the
+night, and thought over what had taken place,&mdash;when he realized that he
+was the leader of the choir, and that singing was a part of divine
+worship,&mdash;when he considered that he had fifty young folks to
+direct&mdash;and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>that it would require a steady hand to keep them straight,
+he felt very sober. As these thoughts, one by one, came crowding upon
+him, he felt that he could not bear so great a responsibility. Then he
+reflected that life is made up of responsibilities, and that it was his
+duty to meet them manfully. If he cringed before, or shrank from them,
+and gave them the go-by, he would be a coward, and never would
+accomplish anything. No one would respect him, and he would not even
+have any respect for himself. "I won't back out!" he said, resolving to
+do the best he could.</p>
+
+<p>Very pleasant were the days. Spring had come with its sunshine and
+flowers. The birds were in their old haunts,&mdash;the larks in the meadows,
+the partridges in the woods, the quails in the fields. Paul was as happy
+as they, singing from morning till night the tunes he had learned; and
+when his day's work was over, he was never too wearied to call upon
+Daphne with Azalia, and sing till the last glimmer of daylight faded
+from the west,&mdash;Azalia playing the piano, and their voices mingling in
+perfect harmony. How pleasant the still hours with Azalia beneath the
+old elms, which spread out their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>arms above them, as if to pronounce a
+benediction,&mdash;the moonlight smiling around them,&mdash;the dews perfuming the
+air with the sweet odors of roses and apple-blooms,&mdash;the cricket
+chirping his love-song to his mate,&mdash;the river forever flowing, and
+sweetly chanting its endless melody!</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes they lingered by the way, and laughed to hear the grand chorus
+of bull-frogs croaking among the rushes of the river, and the echoes of
+their own voices dying away in the distant forest. And then, standing in
+the gravelled walk before the door of Azalia's home, where the flowers
+bloomed around them, they looked up to the stars, shining so far away,
+and talked of choirs of angels, and of those who had gone from earth to
+heaven, and were singing the song of the Redeemed. How bright the days!
+how blissful the nights!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE NIGHT-HAWKS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mr. Shell was proprietor of the New Hope Oyster Saloon. He got up nice
+game suppers, and treated his customers to ale, whiskey, and brandy.
+Philip loved good living, and often ate an oyster-stew and a broiled
+quail, and washed it down with a glass of ale, late at night in Mr.
+Shell's rooms, in company with three or four other boys. After supper
+they had cigars and a game of cards, till midnight, when Mr. Shell put
+out his lights and closed his doors, often interrupting them in the
+middle of a game. That was not agreeable, and so the young gentlemen
+hired a room over the saloon, fitted it up with tables and chairs, and
+organized a club, calling themselves "Night-Hawks." Philip was the chief
+hawk. They met nearly every evening. No one could get into their room
+without giving a signal to those within, and they had a secret sign by
+which they knew each other in the dark.</p>
+
+<p>At first they enjoyed themselves, playing cards, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>smoking cigars,
+drinking ale, sipping hot whiskey punch, and telling stories; but in a
+short time the stories were not worth laughing at, the games of cards
+were the same thing over and over, and they wanted something more
+exciting.</p>
+
+<p>It was the fall of the year. There was rich fruit in the orchards and
+gardens of New Hope, russet and crimson-cheeked apples, golden-hued
+pears, luscious grapes purpling in the October sun, and juicy melons.
+The bee-hives were heavy with honey, and the bees were still at work,
+gathering new sweets from the late blooming flowers. Many baskets of
+ripe apples and choicest pears, many a bunch of grapes, with melons,
+found their way up the narrow stairs to the room of the Night-Hawks.
+There was a pleasing excitement in gathering the apples and pears under
+the windows of the unsuspecting people fast asleep, or in plucking the
+grapes from garden trellises at midnight. But people began to keep
+watch.</p>
+
+<p>"We must throw them off our track. I'll make them think that Paul does
+it," said Philip to himself one day. He had not forgotten the night of
+Daphne's party,&mdash;how Paul had won a victory and he had suffered defeat.
+Paul was respected; he was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>the leader of the choir, and was getting on
+in the world. "I'll fix him!" said he.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning, when Mr. Leatherby kindled the fire in his shoe-shop,
+he found that the stove would not draw. The smoke, instead of going up
+the funnel, poured into the room, and the fire, instead of roaring and
+blazing, smouldered a few moments and finally died out. He kindled it
+again, opened the windows to let in the air, but it would not burn. He
+got down on his knees and blew till he was out of breath, got his eyes
+filled with smoke, which made the tears roll down his cheeks. The shop
+was a mere box of a building, with a low roof; so he climbed up and
+looked into the chimney and found it stuffed with newspapers. Pulling
+them out, he saw a crumpled piece of writing-paper. He smoothed it out.
+"Ah! what is this?" said he; and, putting on his spectacles, he read,
+"North 69&deg; East, 140 rods to a stake; South 87&deg; West, 50 rods to an
+oak-tree."</p>
+
+<p>"That is Paul Parker's figuring, I reckon. I always knew that Paul loved
+fun, but I didn't think he would do this!" said Mr. Leatherby to
+himself, more in sorrow than in anger.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p><p>"Good morning, Mr. Leatherby," said Philip, coming up at that moment.
+"What is the matter with your chimney?"</p>
+
+<p>"Some of you boys have been playing a trick upon me."</p>
+
+<p>"Who, I should like to know, is there in New Hope mean enough to do
+that?" Philip asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Whose figuring do you call that?" Mr. Leatherby asked, presenting the
+paper.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul Parker's, as sure as I am alive! You ought to expose him, Mr.
+Leatherby."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like to say anything against him. I always liked him; but I
+didn't think he would cut up such a shine as this," Mr. Leatherby
+replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Appearances are deceptive. It won't do for me to say anything against
+Paul, for people might say I was envious; but if I were you, Mr.
+Leatherby, I'd put him over the road," said Philip, walking on.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Leatherby thought the matter over all day, as he sat in his dingy
+shop, which was only a few rods from Mr. Chrome's, where Paul was
+painting wagons, singing snatches of songs, and psalms and hymns. Mr.
+Leatherby loved to hear him. It made the days seem shorter. It rested
+him when he was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>tired, cheered him when he was discouraged. It was like
+sunshine in his soul, for it made him happy. Thinking it over, and
+hearing Paul's voice so round, clear, full, and sweet, he couldn't make
+up his mind to tell anybody of the little joke. "After all, he didn't
+mean anything in particular, only to have a little fun with me. Boys
+will be boys,"&mdash;and so Mr. Leatherby, kind old man that he was,
+determined to keep it all to himself.</p>
+
+<p>When Paul passed by the shop on his way home at night, he said, "Good
+evening, Mr. Leatherby," so pleasantly and kindly, that Mr. Leatherby
+half made up his mind that it wasn't Paul who did it, after all, but
+some of the other boys,&mdash;Bob Swift, perhaps, a sly, cunning, crafty
+fellow, who was one of Philip's cronies. "It would be just like Bob, but
+not at all like Paul, and so I won't say anything to anybody," said the
+mild old man to himself.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Dobb's shaggy little poodle came out, barking furiously at Paul as
+he passed down the street. Paul gave him a kick which sent him howling
+towards the house, saying, "Get out, you ugly puppy!" Miss Dobb heard
+him. She came to the door and clasped the poodle to her bosom, saying,
+"Poor dear Trippee! <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>Did the bad fellow hurt the dear little Trippee?"
+Then she looked savagely at Paul, and as she put out her hand to close
+the door, she seemed to clutch at Paul with her long, bony fingers, as
+if to get hold of him and give him a shaking.</p>
+
+<p>Trip wasn't hurt much, for he was out again in a few minutes, snapping
+and snarling at all passers-by. Just at dark he was missing. Miss Dobb
+went to the door and called, "Trip! Trip! Trip!" but he did not come at
+her call. She looked up and down the street, but could not see him. The
+evening passed away. She went to the door many times and called; she
+went to Mr. Shelbarke's and to Mr. Noggin's, but no one had seen Trip.
+She went to bed wondering what had become of him, and fearing that
+somebody had killed or stolen him.</p>
+
+<p>But in the night she heard him whining at the door. She opened it
+joyfully. "Where have you been, you dear little good-for-nothing darling
+Trip?" she said, kissing him, finding, as she did so, that all his hair
+had been sheared off, except a tuft on the end of his tail. She was so
+angry that she could not refrain from shedding tears. The puppy
+shivered, trembled, and whined in the cold, and Miss <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>Dobb was obliged
+to sew him up in flannel. He looked so funny in his coat, with the tuft
+of hair waving on the end of his tail, that Miss Dobb laughed
+notwithstanding her anger. In the morning she went out to tell her
+neighbors what had happened, and met Philip.</p>
+
+<p>"Good morning. I hope you are well, Miss Dobb," he said politely.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am well, only I am so vexed that I don't know what to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed! What has happened?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, somebody has sheared all of Trip's hair off, except a tuft on the
+end of his tail, which looks like a swab. It is an outrageous insult,
+for Trip had a beautiful tail. I would pull every hair out of the
+villain's head, if I knew who did it."</p>
+
+<p>"Who was it that kicked your dog last night, and called him an ugly
+puppy?" Philip asked.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Dobb remembered who, and her eyes flashed. Philip walked on, and
+came across Bob Swift, who had been standing round the corner of Mr.
+Noggin's shop, listening to all that was said. They laughed at
+something, then stopped and looked at Mr. Noggin's bees, which were
+buzzing and humming merrily in the bright October sun.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p><p>That night Mr. Noggin heard a noise in his yard. Springing out of bed
+and going to the window, he saw that a thief was taking the boxes of
+honey from his patent hives. He opened the door and shouted, "Thief!
+Thief!" The robber ran. In the morning Mr. Noggin found that the thief
+had dropped his hat in his haste. He picked it up. "Aha! 'Pears to me I
+have seen this hat before. Paul Parker's, as sure as I am alive!" he
+said. It was the hat which Paul wore in Mr. Chrome's paint-shop.
+Everybody knew it, because it was daubed and spattered with paint.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Noggin went to his work. He was a well-meaning man, but
+shallow-brained. He knew how to make good barrels, tubs, and buckets,
+but had no mind of his own. He put on his leather apron, and commenced
+driving the hoops upon a barrel, pounding with his adze, singing, and
+making the barrel ring with</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"Cooper ding, cooper ding, cooper ding, ding, ding!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Cooper ding, cooper ding, cooper ding, ding, ding!<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Cooper ding, job, job,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Cooper ding, bob, bob,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Heigh ho,&mdash;ding, ding, ding!"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p><p>Mr. Noggin was rattling on in that fashion when Miss Dobb, followed by
+Trip, entered the shop.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I declare! That is the first time I ever saw a pup with a shirt
+on," said Mr. Noggin, stopping and looking at the poodle sewed up in
+flannel. "That is Paul Parker's doings,&mdash;I mean the shearing," said Miss
+Dobb, her eyes flashing indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul's work! O ho! Then he shears pups besides robbing bee-hives, does
+he?" said Mr. Noggin. He told Miss Dobb what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"It is your duty, Mr. Noggin, to have him arrested at once. You are
+under imperative obligations to the community as a law and order abiding
+citizen to put the sheriff upon his track. He is a hypocrite. He ought
+to be pitched out of the singing-seats head first." So Miss Dobb wound
+Mr. Noggin round her finger, and induced him to enter a complaint
+against Paul.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h2>PAUL'S FRIENDS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>For five months Paul had been leader of the choir, and so faithfully
+were his duties performed, so excellent his drill, and so good his taste
+and mature his judgment, so completely were the choir under his control,
+that the ministers from the surrounding parishes, when they exchanged
+with Rev. Mr. Surplice, said, "What glorious singing they have at New
+Hope!" It was so good, that people who never had been in the habit of
+attending church hired pews,&mdash;not that they cared to hear Mr. Surplice
+preach and pray, but it was worth while to hear Azalia Adams and Daphne
+Dare sing a quartette with Paul and Hans, and the whole choir joining in
+perfect time and in sweetest harmony.</p>
+
+<p>Paul believed that a thing worth doing at all was worth doing well. His
+heart was in his work. It was a pleasure to sing. He loved music because
+it made him happy, and he felt also that he and Azalia and Daphne and
+all the choir were a power <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>for good in the community to make men
+better. Farmer Harrow, who used to work at haying on Sunday, said it was
+worth a bushel of turnips any time to hear such sweet singing. So his
+hired man and horses had rest one day in seven, and he became a better
+man.</p>
+
+<p>In the calm moonlight nights Paul often lay wide awake, hour after hour,
+listening with rapture to the sweet music which came to him from the
+distant woods, from the waterfall, from the old maple in front of the
+house, when the leaves, tinged with gorgeous hues, were breaking one by
+one from the twigs, and floating to the ground, from the crickets
+chirping the last lone songs of the dying year, and from the robins and
+sparrows still hovering around their summer haunts. It was sweet to
+think of the pleasant hours he had passed with Azalia and Daphne, and
+with all the choir; and then it was very pleasant to look into the
+future, and imagine what bliss there might be in store for him;&mdash;a
+better home for his mother in her declining years,&mdash;a better life for
+himself. He would be a good citizen, respected and beloved. He would be
+kind to all. He wished that all the world might be good <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>and happy. When
+he became a man, he would try and make people good. If everybody was as
+good as Azalia, what a glorious world it would be! She was always good,
+always cheerful. She had a smile for everybody. Her life was as warm and
+sunny and golden as the October days, and as calm and peaceful as the
+moonlight streaming across his chamber. Sweet it was to think of
+her,&mdash;sweeter to see her; sweetest of all to stand by her side and unite
+his voice to hers, and feel in his soul the charm of her presence. In
+his dreams he sometimes heard her and sat by her side.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes, while thus lying awake, watching the stars as they went
+sailing down the western sky, his thoughts went beyond the present into
+the unseen future, whither his father and grandfather had gone. They
+sang when on earth, and he thought of them as singing in heaven.
+Sometimes he gazed so long and steadily toward the heavenly land, that
+his eyes became dim with tears, so sweet and yet so sad the sounds he
+seemed to hear,&mdash;so near and yet so far away that land.</p>
+
+<p>So the days went by, and the calm and peaceful nights, bringing him to
+October,&mdash;the glorious harvest month.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p><p>And now suddenly people looked shyly at him. There were mysterious
+whisperings and averted faces. He met Squire Capias one morning on the
+street. "Good morning," said Paul; but the lawyer walked on without
+reply. He passed Miss Dobb's house. She sat by the front window, and
+glared at him savagely; and yet she seemed to smile, but her countenance
+was so thin, wrinkled, and sharp, and her eyes so fierce, her smile so
+fiendish, that it put him in mind of a picture he once saw in a horrible
+story-book, which told of a witch that carried off little children and
+ate them for breakfast. Paul thought that Miss Dobb would like to pick
+his bones. But he went on to his work, rejoicing that there were not
+many Miss Dobbs in the world.</p>
+
+<p>While hard at it with his paint-brush, Mr. Ketchum entered. He was a
+tall, stout man, with black, bushy whiskers, and so strong that he could
+take a barrel of cider on his knees and drink out of the bunghole. He
+was a sheriff. The rowdies who fell into his hands said it was no use to
+try to resist Mr. Ketchum, for he once seized a stubborn fellow by the
+heels, and swung him round as he would a cat by the tail, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>till the
+fellow lost his breath and was frightened half out of his wits.</p>
+
+<p>"I have called in to ask you to walk up to Judge Adams's office on a
+matter of business," said Mr. Ketchum.</p>
+
+<p>"With pleasure, sir," said Paul, who, now that he had become a surveyor
+of land, had been called upon repeatedly to give his testimony in court.</p>
+
+<p>They entered Judge Adams's office, which was crowded with people. Mr.
+Noggin, Miss Dobb, Philip, and Bob Swift were there. A buzz ran round
+the room. They all looked upon Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"You have been arrested, Paul, and are charged with stealing honey from
+Mr. Noggin's bee-hives. Are you guilty or not guilty?" said Judge Adams.</p>
+
+<p>"Arrested!&mdash;arrested for stealing!"&mdash;Paul exclaimed, stupefied and
+astounded at the words of the judge. It was like a lightning-stroke. His
+knees became weak. He felt sick at heart. Great drops of cold and clammy
+sweat stood upon his forehead. Arrested! What would his mother say? Her
+son accused of stealing! What would everybody say? What would Azalia
+think? What would Rev. Mr. Surplice say? What would his class of boys in
+the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>Sunday-school say, not about him, but about truth and honor and
+religion, when they heard that their teacher was arrested for stealing?</p>
+
+<p>His throat became dry, his tongue was parched. His voice suddenly grew
+husky. His brain reeled. His heart one moment stood still, then leaped
+in angry throbs, as if ready to burst. He trembled as if attacked by
+sudden ague, then a hot flash went over him, burning up his brain,
+scorching his heart, and withering his life.</p>
+
+<p>"What say you, are you guilty or not guilty?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am innocent," said Paul, gasping for breath, and sinking into his
+seat, taking no notice of what was going on around him. He was busy with
+the future. He saw all his hopes of life dead in an instant,&mdash;killed by
+one flash. He knew that he was innocent, but he was accused of crime,
+arrested, and a prisoner. The world would have it that he was guilty.
+His good name was gone forever. His hopes were blighted, his aspirations
+destroyed, his dreams of future joy,&mdash;all had passed away. His mother
+would die of a broken heart. Henceforth those with whom he had
+associated would shun him. For him there was no more peace, joy, or
+comfort,&mdash;nothing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>but impenetrable darkness and agony in the future. So
+overwhelmed was he, that he took no notice of Mr. Noggin's testimony, or
+of what was done, till he heard Judge Adams say: "There are some
+circumstances against the accused, but the testimony is not sufficient
+to warrant my binding him over for trial. He is discharged."</p>
+
+<p>Paul went out into the fresh air, like one just waking from sleep,
+numbed and stupefied. The words of the judge rang in his
+ears,&mdash;"Circumstances against the accused." The accused! The prisoner!
+He had been a prisoner. All the world would know of it, but would not
+know that he was innocent. How could he bear it? It was a crushing
+agony. Then there came to him the words of the psalm sung on Sunday,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"My times are in thy hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Why should I doubt or fear?<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">My Father's hand will never cause<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">His child a needless tear."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>So he was comforted in the thought that it was for his good; but he
+couldn't see how. He resolved to bear it manfully, conscious of his
+innocence, and trusting in God that he would vindicate his honor.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p><p>He went home and told his mother all that had happened. He was surprised
+to find that it did not shock her, as he supposed it would.</p>
+
+<p>"I know you are innocent, Paul," she said, kissing him. "I am not
+surprised at what has happened. You are the victim of a conspiracy. I
+have been expecting that something would befall you, for you have been
+highly prospered, and prosperity brings enemies. It will all come out
+right in the end." Thus his mother soothed him, and tried to lift the
+great weight from his heart.</p>
+
+<p>He was innocent, but half of the community thought him guilty. "He did
+it,&mdash;he did it,"&mdash;said Miss Dobb to all her neighbors. What should he
+do? How could he establish his innocence? How remove all suspicion?
+Ought he to resign his position as leader of the choir? or should he
+retain it? But the committee of the society settled that. "After what
+has happened, you will see the propriety of giving up your position as
+leader of the choir," said they. "Also your class in the Sunday-school,"
+said the Superintendent.</p>
+
+<p>O, how crushing it was! He was an outcast,&mdash;a vile, miserable wretch,&mdash;a
+hypocrite,&mdash;a mean, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>good-for-nothing fellow,&mdash;a scoundrel,&mdash;a thief,&mdash;a
+robber,&mdash;in the estimation of those who had respected him. They did not
+speak to him on the street. Colonel Dare, who usually had a pleasant
+word, did not notice him. He met Daphne Dare, but she crossed the street
+to avoid him. How terrible the days! How horrible the nights! He tossed
+and tumbled, and turned upon his bed. There was a fire in his bones. His
+flesh was hot. His brain was like a smouldering furnace. If he dropped
+off to sleep, it was but for a moment, and he awoke with a start, to
+feel the heat burning up his soul with its slow, consuming flame.</p>
+
+<p>At evening twilight he wandered by the river-side to cool his fever,
+dipping his hand into the stream and bathing his brow. He stood upon the
+bridge and looked over the railing into the surging waters. A horrible
+thought came over him. Why not jump in and let the swollen current bear
+him away? What use was it to live, with his good name gone, and all the
+future a blank? He banished the thought. He would live on and trust in
+God.</p>
+
+<p>He heard a step upon the bridge, and, looking up, beheld Azalia. She had
+been out gathering the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>faded leaves of autumn, and late-blossoming
+flowers, in the woods beyond the river. "Will she speak to me?" was the
+question which rose in his mind. His heart stood still in that moment of
+suspense. She came towards him, held out her hand, and said, "Good
+evening, Paul."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you do not turn away from me?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Paul, I don't believe that you are a thief."</p>
+
+<p>Tears came to his eyes as he took her proffered hand,&mdash;tears which
+welled up from his heart and which saved it from bursting. "O Azalia, if
+you had turned from me, I should have died! I have suffered terrible
+agony, but I can live now. I am innocent."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you, Paul, and I shall still be as I have been, your friend.
+There is my pledge," she said, setting down her basket, and putting a
+frost-flower into a button-hole of his threadbare coat. Then, to make
+him forget that the world was looking coldly upon him, she showed him
+the flowers she had gathered, and the gorgeous maple leaves,&mdash;scarlet,
+orange, purple, and crimson, and talked of their marvellous beauty. And
+when, with a smile, she said "Good night," and went tripping homeward,
+his heart was so full of gratitude that he could not utter his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>thanks.
+He could only say in his heart, "God bless her." It was as if he had met
+an angel in the way, and had been blessed. He stood there while the
+twilight deepened, and felt his heart grow strong again. He went home.
+His mother saw by the deep-settled determination on his face, by his
+calmness, and by his sad smile, that he was not utterly broken down and
+overwhelmed by the trouble which, like a wave of the sea, had rolled
+upon him.</p>
+
+<p>"There is one who does not pass me by; Azalia is still a friend," he
+said.</p>
+
+<p>"There are several whom you may count upon as being still your friends,"
+she replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Who are they, mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"God and the angels, my son."</p>
+
+<p>So she comforted him, telling him that the best way to put down a lie
+was to live it down, and that the time would surely come when his honor
+and integrity would be vindicated.</p>
+
+<p>When they kneeled together to offer their evening prayer, and when his
+mother asked that the affliction might work out for him an eternal
+weight of glory, he resolved that he would, with God's help, live down
+the lie, and wait patiently, bearing the ignominy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>and shame and the
+cold looks of those who had been his friends, till his character for
+truth and honesty was re-established. He was calm and peaceful now. Once
+more he heard sweet music as he lay upon his bed. Through the night the
+winds, the waterfall, the crickets, seemed to be saying with Azalia, "We
+are still your friends,&mdash;still your friends&mdash;your friends&mdash;your
+friends!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h2>IN A TRAP.</h2>
+
+
+<p>A kind word, a look, a smile, a warm grasp of the hand by a friend in
+time of trouble,&mdash;how they remain in memory! Sometimes they are like
+ropes thrown to drowning men. The meeting between Paul and Azalia upon
+the bridge was a turning point in his life. He felt, when he saw her
+approaching, that, if she passed him by, looking upon him as a vile
+outcast from society, he might as well give up a contest where
+everything was against him. He loved truth and honor for their own sake.
+He remembered the words of his grandfather, that truth and honor are
+better than anything else in the world. Many a night he had heard the
+winds repeating those words as they whistled through the cracks and
+crevices of his chamber, rattling the shingles upon the roof, saying
+over and over and over again, Truth and honor, truth and honor. He had
+tried to be true, honest, and manly, not only to make himself better,
+but to help everybody else <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>who had a hard time in life; but if Rev. Mr.
+Surplice, Judge Adams, Colonel Dare, and all the good folks looked upon
+him as a thief, what was the use of trying to rise? There was one who
+was still his friend. Her sweet, sad smile followed him. He saw it all
+the time, by day and by night, while awake and while asleep. He felt the
+warm, soft touch of her hand, and heard her words. He remembered that
+God is always on the side of truth, and so he resolved to go right on as
+if nothing had happened, and live down the accusation.</p>
+
+<p>But he couldn't go on. "After what has happened, it is expedient that
+you should leave the choir till your innocence is established," said
+Deacon Hardhack, who was chairman of the singing committee,&mdash;a good,
+well-meaning man, who was very zealous for maintaining what he
+considered to be the faith once delivered to the saints. He carried on
+an iron foundery, and people sometimes called him a cast-iron man. He
+believed, that it was the duty of everybody to do exactly right; if they
+did wrong, or if they were suspected of doing wrong, they must take the
+consequences. Miss Dobb told him that Paul ought to be pitched out of
+the choir. "I think <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>so too, Miss Dobb," said the Deacon, and it was
+done.</p>
+
+<p>It required a great bracing of Paul's nerves, on Sunday morning, to go
+to church, and take a seat in the pew down stairs, with every eye upon
+him; but he did it manfully.</p>
+
+<p>The bell ceased tolling. It was time for services to commence, but there
+was no choir. The singers' seats were empty. Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and
+all the others, were down stairs. Mr. Surplice waited awhile, then read
+the hymn; but there was a dead silence,&mdash;no turning of leaves, no
+blending of sweet voices, no soul-thrilling strains, such as had
+reformed Farmer Harrow, and given rest to his horses one day in seven.
+People looked at the singers' seats, then at Paul, then at each other.
+The silence became awkward. Deacon Hardhack was much exercised in mind.
+He had been very zealous in committee meeting for having Paul sent down
+stairs, but he had not looked forward to see what effect it would have
+upon the choir. Mr. Cannel, who owned a coal-mine, sat in front of Paul.
+He was not on good terms with Deacon Hardhack, for they once had a
+falling out on business matters, and so whatever the Deacon <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span>attempted
+to do in society affairs was opposed by Mr. Cannel. They were both
+members of the singing committee, and had a stormy time on Saturday
+evening. Mr. Cannel did what he could to keep Paul in the choir, but the
+Deacon had carried the day.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll triumph yet," was the thought which flashed through Mr. Cannel's
+mind, when he saw how matters stood. He turned and nodded to Paul to
+strike up a tune, but Paul took no notice of him. Mr. Cannel half rose
+from his seat, and whispered hoarsely, "Strike up a tune, Paul." All the
+congregation saw him. Paul made no movement, but sat perfectly still,
+not even looking towards Mr. Cannel. Deacon Hardhack saw what Mr. Cannel
+was up to, and resolved to head him off. He rose from his seat, and said
+aloud, "Brother Quaver, will you pitch a tune?"</p>
+
+<p>Again, as in other days, Mr. Quaver rubbed his great red nose, as
+trumpeters wipe their instruments before giving a blast. Then, after a
+loud Ahem! which made the church ring, he began to sing. It was so
+strange a sound, so queer, so unlike the sweet music which had charmed
+the congregation through <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>the summer, that there was smiling all over
+the church. His voice trembled and rattled, and sounded so funny that a
+little boy laughed aloud, which disconcerted him, and he came near
+breaking down. Miss Gamut sat in one corner of the church, many pews
+from Mr. Quaver. She attempted to join, but was so far away that she
+felt, as she afterwards remarked, like a cat in a strange garret. Paul
+did not sing. He thought that, if it was an offence for him to sing in
+the choir, it would be equally offensive to sing in the congregation.
+Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and all the members of the choir, who were sitting
+in the pews with their parents, were silent. They had talked the matter
+over before church.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul is innocent; he has only been accused. It isn't right to condemn
+him, or turn from him, till we know he is not worthy of our confidence.
+I met him on the bridge last night, and he looked as if he hadn't a
+friend in the world. I shall stand by him," said Azalia.</p>
+
+<p>"Deacon Hardhack and Miss Dobb mean to break down the choir. It is a
+conspiracy," said Hans, who felt that Paul's case was his own.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p><p>Daphne began to look at the matter in a new light, and felt ashamed of
+herself for having passed by Paul without noticing him.</p>
+
+<p>After service there was a great deal of loud talking.</p>
+
+<p>"If that is the kind of singing you are going to have, I'll stay at
+home," said Farmer Harrow.</p>
+
+<p>"It would be a desecration of the sanctuary, and we should be the aiders
+and abettors of sin and iniquity, if we allowed a fellow who has been
+accused of stealing to lead the singing," said Deacon Hardhack to Mr.
+Cannel.</p>
+
+<p>"Let him that is without sin among you cast the first stone," was Mr.
+Cannel's reply, and he felt that he had given the Deacon a good hit.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul hasn't had his deserts by a long chalk," said Miss Dobb.</p>
+
+<p>"He has been treated shamefully," said Azalia, indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>All took sides, some for Paul, and some against him. Old things, which
+had no connection with the matter, were raked up. Mr. Cannel twitted
+Deacon Hardback of cheating him, while on the other hand the Deacon
+accused Mr. Cannel of giving false <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>weight in selling coal. The peace
+and harmony of the church and society were disturbed.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Quaver felt very sore over that laugh which the little boy had
+started. He knew his voice was cracked, and that his singing days were
+over. "I am not going to make a fool of myself, to be laughed at," he
+said, and made up his mind that he wouldn't sing another note to please
+the Deacon or anybody else.</p>
+
+<p>In the afternoon Mr. Quaver's seat was empty. Mr. Surplice read a hymn
+and waited for some one to begin. Mr. Cannel once more nodded to Paul,
+but Paul took no notice of it, and so there was no singing. A very dull
+service it was. After the benediction, Mr. Cannel, Colonel Dare, and
+Judge Adams said to Paul, "We hope you will lead the singing next
+Sunday."</p>
+
+<p>"Gentlemen, I have been requested by the chairman of the committee to
+leave the choir. When he invites me to return I will take the matter
+into consideration; till then I shall take no part in the singing,"&mdash;he
+replied, calmly and decidedly.</p>
+
+<p>Through the week Paul went on with his business, working and studying,
+bringing all his will and energy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>into action; for he resolved that he
+would not let what had taken place break him down.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Noggin believed him guilty. "He will steal your grapes, Mr.
+Leatherby, if you don't look out," he said to the shoemaker, who had a
+luxuriant vine in his garden, which was so full of ripe clusters that
+people's mouths watered when they saw them purpling in the October sun.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Leatherby concluded to keep his eyes open,&mdash;also to set a trap. He
+waited till evening, that no one might see what he was about. His garden
+was a warm, sunny spot, upon a hillside. A large butternut-tree, with
+wide-spreading branches, gave support to the vine. Mr. Leatherby filled
+a hogshead with stones, headed it up, rolled it to the spot, and tilted
+it so nicely that a slight jar would send it rolling down the hill. Then
+fastening one end of a rope to the hogshead, he threw the other end over
+a branch of the tree, brought it down to the ground, and made a noose.
+Then, taking a board, he put one end upon the hogshead and rested the
+other end on the ground, where he had placed the noose. He expected that
+whoever came after the grapes would walk up the board to reach the great
+clusters which <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span>hung overhead, that the hogshead would begin to roll,
+the board would drop, the noose draw, and the thief would find himself
+dangling by the heels. It was admirably contrived. About midnight Mr.
+Leatherby heard the board drop. "I've got him!" he shouted, springing
+out of bed, alarming Mrs. Leatherby, who thought he was crazy. He had
+not told her of the trap.</p>
+
+<p>"Got whom? Got what?" she exclaimed, wondering what he meant.</p>
+
+<p>"Paul Parker, who has come to steal the grapes," he said, as he put on
+his clothes.</p>
+
+<p>He went out, and found that it was not Paul, but Bob Swift, who was
+dangling, head downwards. The noose had caught him by one leg. A very
+laughable appearance he made, as he kicked and swung his arms, and
+swayed to and fro, vainly struggling to get away.</p>
+
+<p>"So you are the thief, are you? How do you like being hung up by the
+heels? Are the grapes sweet or sour?" Mr. Leatherby asked, not offering
+to relieve him.</p>
+
+<p>"Please let me go, sir. I won't do so again," said Bob, whining.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p><p>"It won't hurt you to hang awhile, I reckon," Mr. Leatherby replied,
+going into the house and telling Mrs. Leatherby what had happened, then
+calling up Mr. Shelbarke, who lived near by, and also Mr. Noggin.</p>
+
+<p>"I reckon that this isn't your first trick, Bob," said Mr. Leatherby,
+when he returned with his neighbors. He liked Paul, and had been loath
+to believe that he was guilty of stealing. "It is you who have been
+playing tricks all along. Come now, own up," he added.</p>
+
+<p>"It ain't me, it is Philip,&mdash;he told me to come," said Bob, who was
+thoroughly cowed by the appearance of Mr. Noggin and the others, and who
+feared that he would be harshly dealt with.</p>
+
+<p>"O ho! Philip Funk is at the bottom, is he?" Mr. Leatherby exclaimed,
+remembering how Philip suggested that it was Paul who had stuffed his
+chimney with old paper.</p>
+
+<p>"If you will let me down, I will tell you all," said Bob, groaning with
+pain from the cord cutting into his ankle.</p>
+
+<p>"We will hear your confession before we let you down," said Mr.
+Leatherby.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p><p>Bob begged, and whined, but to no purpose, till he told them all about
+the Night-Hawks,&mdash;that Philip set them on, and that Paul did not take
+Mr. Noggin's honey, nor smoke out Mr. Leatherby. It was Philip who
+sheared Miss Dobb's puppy, who took Mr. Shelbarke's watermelons, and
+robbed Deacon Hardhack's hen-roost. When Bob had told all, they let him
+go. He went off limping, but very glad that he was free.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning Mr. Leatherby and Mr. Noggin reported what had happened;
+but Philip put on a bold face, and said that Bob was a liar, and that
+there wasn't a word of truth in what he had said. The fact that he was
+caught stealing Mr. Leatherby's grapes showed that he was a fellow not
+to be believed; for if he was mean enough to steal, he would not
+hesitate to lie.</p>
+
+<p>Deacon Hardhack called upon Paul. "I have been requested by the
+committee to call and see you. They wish you to take charge of the
+singing again," he said, with some confusion of manner; and added,
+"Perhaps we were hasty in the matter when we asked you to sit down
+stairs, but we are willing to let bygones be bygones."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p><p>"Am I to understand that there is no suspicion against me?" Paul asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;sir&mdash;I suppose so," said the Deacon, slowly and hesitatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you may say to the committee that I will do what I can to make the
+singing acceptable as a part of the service," Paul replied.</p>
+
+<p>There was a hearty shaking of hands with Paul, by all the choir, at the
+rehearsal on Saturday night. They were glad to meet him once more, and
+when they looked upon his frank, open countenance, those who for a
+moment had distrusted him felt that they had done him a great wrong. And
+on Sunday morning how sweet the music! It thrilled the hearts of the
+people, and they too were ashamed when they reflected that they had
+condemned Paul without cause. They were glad he was in his place once
+more. Mr. Surplice in his prayer gave thanks that the peace and harmony
+of the congregation was restored, and that the wicked one had not been
+permitted to rule. When he said that, Mr. Cannel wondered if he had
+reference to Deacon Hardhack. Everybody rejoiced that the matter was
+settled,&mdash;even Miss Dobb, who did not care to have all the old things
+brought up.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p><p>When the service was over, when Paul sat once more by his mother's side
+in their humble home, before the old fireplace, when he listened to her
+words, reminding him of all God's goodness,&mdash;how He had carried him
+through the trial,&mdash;Paul could not keep back his tears, and he resolved
+that he would always put his trust in God.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h2>KEEPING SCHOOL.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The teacher of the New Hope school, engaged for the winter, proved to be
+a poor stick. He allowed the scholars to throw spit-balls, snap
+apple-seeds, eat molasses candy, pull each other's hair, and have fine
+frolics. Paul wished very much to attend school, to study Latin, and fit
+himself for College; but when he saw how forceless a fellow Mr. Supple
+was, he concluded that it would be lost time to attend such a school. He
+knew that knowledge is power, and he longed to obtain a thorough
+education. Sometimes, when he thought how much Judge Adams knew, and
+when he read books written by learned men, he felt that he knew next to
+nothing. But whenever he felt like giving up the contest with adverse
+circumstances, a walk in the fresh, cool, bracing air, or a night's
+sleep, revived his flagging spirit. The thought often came, "What would
+Daphne or Azalia say if they knew how chicken-hearted I am?" So his
+pride gave him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>strength. Though he did not attend school, he made rapid
+progress studying at home.</p>
+
+<p>Matters came to a crisis in the school, for one day the big boys&mdash;Bob
+Swift among others&mdash;carried Mr. Supple out of the school-house, dug a
+hole in a snow-drift, and stuck him into it with his head down and his
+heels up. Then they took possession of the school-house and played tag
+over the benches for the rest of the day. Mr. Supple did not attempt to
+enter the school-house again, but picked up his hat, went to his
+boarding-house, packed his trunk, and left town.</p>
+
+<p>After a week's vacation, Mr. Cannel, who was the school-agent, obtained
+another teacher,&mdash;a thin, pale-faced, quick-tempered young man,&mdash;Mr.
+Thrasher. "I'll bring them to their trumps," he said, when Mr. Cannel
+engaged him.</p>
+
+<p>"I intend to have order in this school. I shall lick the first boy who
+throws a spit-ball, or who does anything contrary to the rules of the
+school," said Mr. Thrasher, flourishing a raw hide, on the first
+morning. He read a long list of rules, numbered from one up to eighteen.
+Before he finished his rules, a little boy laughed, and caught a
+whipping. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>Before noon half a dozen were hauled up. There was a council
+of war at noon among the big boys, who, having had their own way, were
+determined to keep it. They agreed to give Mr. Thrasher a pitched
+battle. They had it in the afternoon; a half-dozen pounced upon the
+master at once, and after a short struggle put him out doors. They gave
+a grand hurrah, and pelted him with snowballs, and drove him up the
+street.</p>
+
+<p>There was great commotion in the town. Those who loved law and order
+were alarmed for the welfare of their children.</p>
+
+<p>"We must have a master who can rule them, or they will grow up to be
+lawless citizens," said Judge Adams.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Cannel could find no one who was willing to teach the school.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why anybody who is competent to teach should be afraid to
+undertake the task," said Paul to Mr. Chrome, one day, as they talked
+the matter over.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Chrome met Mr. Cannel that evening on the street. "If there is
+anybody who is competent to keep the school, it is Paul Parker," said
+Mr. Chrome, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>who had exalted ideas of Paul's ability to overcome
+difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe you," Mr. Cannel replied, and started at once to see Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I will think of it, and let you know in the morning whether I will
+teach or not," was Paul's reply, after hearing what Mr. Cannel had to
+say.</p>
+
+<p>He talked the matter over with his mother.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a great undertaking, Paul; I cannot advise you," she said.</p>
+
+<p>When he offered his evening prayer, he asked that God would direct him.
+He thought upon the subject during the night. Could he carry it through?
+The scholars all knew him,&mdash;had been to school with him,&mdash;were his old
+friends and playmates. Bob Swift was a ringleader; and outside, not in
+the school, was Philip, who would make all the trouble he could. There
+was Miss Dobb, who would like to have picked him to pieces. There were
+others who would rejoice to see him fail. But would it not be glorious
+to succeed,&mdash;to triumph over Miss Dobb? But that was an unworthy motive,
+and he put the thought out of his mind. He resolved to undertake the
+task, and try to do good,&mdash;to guide and mould the minds <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>of the
+scholars,&mdash;those who were to be men and women, who were to act an
+important part in life, and who were to live not only here, but in
+another world,&mdash;who, he hoped, would be companions of the angels. Would
+it not be worth while to aid in overcoming evil, in establishing law and
+order,&mdash;to inculcate a love of virtue, truth, and honor?</p>
+
+<p>It would require nerve, energy, patience, and wisdom. "I'll try it," he
+said to himself, after looking at all sides.</p>
+
+<p>When it was known that Paul was going to try his hand at school-keeping
+the big boys chuckled. "We'll sweeten him," said Bob, rubbing his hands,
+and anticipating the glorious fun they would have.</p>
+
+<p>Conscious that he had a task before him which would try him severely,
+Paul yet went bravely to his work, locking the door as he entered the
+school-room, and putting the key in his pocket. The big boys looked at
+each other, somewhat amazed, each anxious to see what the others thought
+of it. He walked deliberately to his desk. "It is always best to begin
+an undertaking rightly," said Paul, standing erect and looking calmly
+round the room. "There is no better <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>way than to ask our Heavenly Father
+to direct us, and so we will all repeat the Lord's Prayer," he said and
+waited till the room was so still that the scholars could almost hear
+the beating of their hearts. The stillness filled them with awe. After
+prayer he addressed them,&mdash;not alluding to anything which had taken
+place, but simply saying that he had been employed to teach them, and
+should do what he could to make the school-room a pleasant place to all.
+He expected that they would obey whatever rules were necessary for the
+good of the school, but did not threaten them with punishment.</p>
+
+<p>It was so unlike what they had expected that the big boys did not know
+what to make of it, or how to take it. Bob could not decide whether it
+was best to begin a war, or wait till something happened, and then have
+a grand battle. So the forenoon passed without any disturbance.</p>
+
+<p>Philip saw Bob at noon. "You are a coward, Bob, or you would have
+pitched Paul heels over head out of the door. I would if I were there,
+and so would you if you had as much gumption as an old setting hen. I
+thought you were going to 'sweeten him,'" he said, with a sneer.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p><p>"So I am," said Bob, nettled at the taunt, and resolving to drive Paul
+out in the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>When Paul entered the school-room after dinner, he saw at a glance that
+there was mischief ahead. The whole school was on tip-toe. He locked the
+door, and again put the key in his pocket. Bob was standing in the
+middle of the floor with his hat on.</p>
+
+<p>"Take off your hat, Master Swift, and go to your seat," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I sha'n't do it," said Bob,&mdash;who the next instant went spinning round
+the room, tumbling over a chair, falling upon the floor, finding himself
+picked up and thrown against a desk, then having his heels tripped up,
+and then set to whirling so fast that the room seemed all windows. He
+was cuffed backward and forward, to the right and the left, pitched
+headlong, and jerked back again so suddenly, that he lost his breath. He
+was like a little child in the hands of a giant. He was utterly
+powerless. One of the other boys sprang to help him, but was met by a
+blow between his eyes which knocked him to the floor. A second started,
+but when he saw what had happened he sat down. Bob's brain was in a
+whirl. His ears were tingling. He saw stars, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span>it seemed as if all
+his hair had been torn out by the roots. He heard Paul say, once more,
+calmly, as at first, "Take your seat, Master Swift." He hesitated a
+moment, but when, through the blinking stars, he saw how cool and
+decided Paul was, standing there as if nothing had happened,&mdash;when he
+saw the boy who had started to aid him sprawling on the floor, and the
+others who had promised to help put Paul out of doors sitting in their
+seats,&mdash;he knew that it was of no use to resist. He took his seat and
+sat all the afternoon wondering at Paul's strength. Paul was surprised
+to find himself so powerful and athletic; but then he remembered that he
+had right on his side, which always helps a man.</p>
+
+<p>The victory was won. The school felt that he was their master. Yet he
+had a pleasant smile. When they were tired of study he said, "I see that
+you are getting dull and need stirring up." Then he told them a story
+which set them all laughing, and so made them forget that they were
+tired and sleepy.</p>
+
+<p>At night he had a talk with Bob all alone, telling him that he ought to
+be a good boy for his poor old mother's sake. That touched Bob in a
+tender <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>place, for he loved his mother, and was a good-hearted fellow,
+but had allowed Philip to twist him round his little finger.</p>
+
+<p>"For her sake, Bob, I want you to be good; I will help you all I can,"
+said Paul. It was spoken so kindly and frankly that Bob knew Paul meant
+it. "Cut loose from those who advise you to do wrong, and tell them that
+you are going to do right," said Paul, as they parted for the night.</p>
+
+<p>"I will," said Bob, who, as he thought it all over that night, and
+recalled the kind words, felt that Paul would be his best friend if he
+did right.</p>
+
+<p>"I must get Azalia and Daphne to help me make a man of Bob," said Paul
+to himself,&mdash;"they can do what I can't."</p>
+
+<p>He called upon Azalia. There was a bright fire on the hearth in the
+sitting-room, but the smile on her face, he thought, was more pleasant
+to see.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad you have conquered," she said.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know that I have done so, yet; when I can feel that they all
+love me, then I may begin to think that it is a victory. I have had a
+talk with Bob. He is a good fellow, but under bad influences. I want you
+to help me. If we can <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>make him respect himself, we shall make a man of
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"I will do what I can," said Azalia.</p>
+
+<p>When Paul went away she sat down by the window and watched him till he
+was out of sight. "How thoughtful he is for the welfare of others!" was
+the thought which passed through her mind. Then she gazed upon the red
+and purple clouds with gold and silver linings, and upon the clear
+sunset sky beyond, till the twilight faded away, and the stars came out
+in the heavens. Paul's words were ringing in her ears,&mdash;"I want you to
+help me." Yes, she would help him, for he was trying to make the world
+better.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h2>RALLYING ROUND THE FLAG.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There came a gloomy day to the people of New Hope,&mdash;that gloomiest of
+the year, of all the years,&mdash;that on which they received the astounding
+intelligence that Fort Sumter had been attacked by the people of South
+Carolina, and that Major Anderson commanding it, with his little
+company, had been compelled to surrender. News so startling brought all
+the people into the streets. They assembled around the telegraph office,
+where Mr. Magnet read the despatch; how the attack had been made at
+daybreak on Friday, the 12th of April, all the batteries which General
+Beauregard had erected opening fire upon the half-starved garrison; how
+shot and shell were rained upon the fort, from Moultrie, from the guns
+on Morris Island, and from the floating battery which the Rebels had
+built; how Major Anderson coolly ate his breakfast; how Captain
+Doubleday fired the first gun in reply; how the cannonade went on all
+day, the great guns roaring <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span>and jumping; how the fight commenced again
+next morning; how the barracks were set on fire by the shells from the
+Rebel guns; how manfully the garrison fought against the flames, rolling
+kegs of powder into the sea to prevent their exploding; how the soldiers
+were scorched by the heat and almost suffocated by the smoke; how the
+flag-staff was shot away; how the flag was nailed to the broken mast;
+how the brave little band held out till their powder was almost
+exhausted, and till there was nothing to eat but raw salt pork; how at
+last, after thirty-six hours' fighting, Major Anderson surrendered the
+fort, saluting his flag as he hauled it down, carrying it away with him,
+being permitted to sail with his company to New York; and how the
+President had called for seventy-five thousand men to suppress the
+rebellion. The people held their breath while Mr. Magnet was reading,
+and when he had finished looked at one another in mournful silence. The
+flag of their country was trailed in the dust, and dishonored in the
+sight of the nations. They could not have felt worse if they had lost a
+dear friend by death.</p>
+
+<p>"The country is gone, gone, gone," said Judge Adams, wiping the tears
+from his eyes.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p><p>"I reckon not, Judge," said Colonel Dare, "the people will have
+something to say about this insult to the flag. They will wipe out the
+disgrace by sweeping those scoundrels into the sea." The Colonel usually
+looked on the bright side of things. He recalled the trainings of other
+days, when his regiment paraded on the green and had a sham-fight. He
+wished that he were once more in command; he would march to Charleston,
+burn the city, and sow it with salt.</p>
+
+<p>"The question is, whether a sovereign State has not a right to secede if
+she chooses," said Mr. Funk,&mdash;for he and Philip were the only persons in
+New Hope who were not sorrowful over the intelligence. Mr. Funk was a
+native of Virginia, and had much to say about the superiority of
+Southern gentlemen over all other men,&mdash;how noble and chivalric they
+were.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad that the President has called for seventy-five thousand men
+to crush the vipers," said the Colonel.</p>
+
+<p>"He can't do it. It won't be constitutional. You can't coerce a
+sovereign State," said Mr. Funk.</p>
+
+<p>"We will do it. Let me tell you, Mr. Funk, that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>this is a government of
+the people,&mdash;the whole people,&mdash;and that the old flag which has been
+stricken from the walls of Sumter shall go up there, if it takes a
+million of men to put it there!"</p>
+
+<p>"You can't do it. One Southerner can whip five Yankees any day," said
+Philip.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Dare took no notice of what Philip said. And he was too much
+depressed by the news to enter into an argument with Mr. Funk upon the
+right of a State to secede from the Union.</p>
+
+<p>One by one the people went to their homes, meditating upon what they had
+heard, and wondering what next would happen. They could not work; they
+could only think of the terrible event.</p>
+
+<p>What a gloomy day it was to Paul Parker! He went home, sat down before
+the fire, and looked into the glowing coals. The gun which his
+grandfather carried at Bunker Hill, and which in his hands had brought
+down many a squirrel from the highest trees, was hanging in its usual
+place. He felt like shouldering it and marching for Charleston. He
+recalled the stories which his grandfather had told him there upon the
+hearth, of Bunker Hill and Saratoga. Many times he had wished that he
+had lived in those <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>glorious days, to be a patriot, and assist in
+securing the independence of America. But now the work which his
+grandfather and the Revolutionary sires had accomplished seemed to be
+all lost. It made him sick at heart to think of it. Would the people
+resent the insult which South Carolina had given to the flag? What would
+the President do? What if he did nothing? What would become of the
+country? What would become of liberty, justice, truth, and right? O, how
+hard it was to see them all stricken down,&mdash;to think that the world was
+turning backward! He looked into the coals till he could see great
+armies meeting in battle,&mdash;houses in flames, and the country drenched in
+blood. He sat motionless, forgetful of everything but the terrible
+intelligence and the gloomy future. What part should he take in the
+contest? What could he do? The President had called for men to help
+raise the flag once more upon the walls of Sumter; could he leave his
+home, his mother, his friends? These were trying questions; but he felt
+that he could go wherever duty called him.</p>
+
+<p>Colonel Dare, as he reflected upon what had happened, saw that the
+people needed stirring up <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span>to sustain the President; that the Rebellion
+must be put down, or there would be an end of all government. He
+resolved to get up a public meeting. "We will have it this evening, and
+you must be chairman," he said to Judge Adams.</p>
+
+<p>He called upon Rev. Mr. Surplice. "I want you to open the meeting by
+prayer," he said, "for these are sober days. We need God's help. If we
+ask Him, He will help us. And you must make a speech. Come down on the
+Rebels," he added, with sudden indignation; "curse them, as David cursed
+the enemies of God. You, who are watchman on the walls of Zion, must
+lead off, and the people will follow. Their hearts are burning within
+them; the kindlings are laid; strike the match now, and there will be
+such a flame of patriotism as the world never saw."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall want singing," he said to Paul. "You must get that up."</p>
+
+<p>He engaged Mr. Tooter to be there with his fife, and Mr. Noggin with his
+drum. These two were old companions on training days. They had drank
+many glasses of cider together, and had played "Yankee Doodle," and "The
+Campbells are coming," and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span>"Saint Patrick's Day in the Morning," on
+many occasions.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall expect some resolutions and a speech from you," he said to
+Squire Capias.</p>
+
+<p>Thus he laid out the work, and entered upon it with so much zeal, that
+all hands caught the spirit of his enthusiasm. Judge Adams, who had been
+very much depressed, became more cheerful, and thought over what he
+should say upon the occasion. Rev. Mr. Surplice looked through the
+Psalms and Isaiah and the New Testament to find the Scripture most
+appropriate to read. Squire Capias sat down by his round table in his
+dingy office, ran his fingers through his long black hair, and thought
+over his speech. Paul and Azalia, with Hans, went to Colonel Dare's,
+and, with Daphne, rehearsed the "Star-Spangled Banner," and "America,"
+while Mr. Noggin put a new cord into his drum, which had been lying for
+months in his garret, and was covered with dust.</p>
+
+<p>Evening came. The sexton rang the bell of the church,&mdash;not soberly and
+steadily, but he tugged with all his might at the rope, throwing the
+bell over and over,&mdash;ringing as if the whole town was in a blaze. The
+farmers out on the hills heard it, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span>came driving furiously into the
+village to see what was the matter.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tooter and Mr. Noggin, with Mr. Chrome, who had a new flag, walked
+out upon the parade-ground. The musicians struck up Yankee-Doodle. How
+it stirred the hearts of everybody,&mdash;the sharp, shrill notes of the
+fife,&mdash;the roll, the rattle, and the rat-a-tat-tat of the drum, and the
+clanging of the bell, and the sight of that flag, its crimson folds and
+fadeless stars waving in the evening breeze! Never had it looked so
+beautiful. The little boys swung their caps and cheered, the women waved
+their handkerchiefs, and the men hurrahed in an outburst of wild
+enthusiasm. Then they formed in procession with Colonel Dare for
+marshal,&mdash;the music and the flag in advance, Rev. Mr. Surplice, Judge
+Adams, and Squire Capias next, and then all the citizens, marching round
+the public square to the church, filling the house, the pews, the
+aisles, the entry, and hanging like a swarm of bees around the windows.</p>
+
+<p>Judge Adams forgot all his despondency, while Mr. Surplice, who was
+getting a little prosy as a preacher, was as full of fire as in his
+younger days. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span>Mr. Capias was so eloquent that the people stamped till
+the house fairly shook with applause. He ended with resolutions,
+pledging the support of the people of New Hope to the government,&mdash;their
+lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor towards suppressing the
+Rebellion. But more thrilling than all the eloquence of the evening was
+the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner, by Azalia, Daphne, Paul, and
+Hans. They stood on the platform in front of the pulpit, Azalia and
+Daphne with flags in their hands. How sweet their voices! How inspiring
+the moment when they sang:</p>
+
+<p>"And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the
+free and the home of the brave!"</p>
+
+<p>Men threw up their hats, women waved their handkerchiefs, and all
+cheered and shouted, while many shed tears, as they looked upon the
+banner of their country, which had been so insulted and despised. There,
+in the place where they met on the Sabbath to worship God, they resolved
+that, let it cost what it might of money, of sacrifice, or of life, the
+old flag should once more wave in triumph upon the walls of Fort
+Sumter,&mdash;that the Rebellion should be subdued and the traitors
+punished.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p><p>That was an ever memorable night to Paul. Alone in his chamber, lying on
+his bed, whence he could look out, as in childhood, upon the stars, he
+thought upon what had happened at Fort Sumter, and of the meeting in the
+church at New Hope, and how he had pledged himself with the rest to
+stand by the flag of his country. The water by the mill was repeating
+the soul-stirring song, which Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and himself had
+sung. The maples, elms, and all the forest-trees, like a multitudinous
+chorus of a great and mighty people, were saying, "It shall wave&mdash;shall
+wave&mdash;over the home of the brave!"</p>
+
+<p>But men were wanted. The President had called for them. Ought he not to
+be one of the seventy-five thousand? Would not his grandfather, if
+alive, point to the old gun, and say, "Go, Paul, your country calls
+you?" Were not all who have died for liberty, justice, truth, and right
+calling upon him to do his duty? Were not the oppressed everywhere
+looking to him? What answer could he give to the millions yet to be, if
+in his old age they were to question him as to what part he bore in the
+great struggle? Thus the voices of the ages <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span>propounded solemn
+questions&mdash;voices of earth and heaven&mdash;of his duty to his country and to
+God. But how could he leave his home, his mother, his friends, his
+school, the choir, Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and give up the dear
+associations of the place? What if he should fall in battle? Could he
+meet death face to face? But then he remembered that the path of duty,
+though it may lead through dangers, though it may lead to the death of
+the body, is the way by which peace comes to the soul. It was the most
+solemn moment of his life, for God was questioning him. He heard not
+only the voices of the past, and of the winds, the water, and of his
+country, calling him to do his duty as a patriot, but there was a still,
+small voice talking of sins committed and duties neglected; of a lie
+which he had told in childhood, and which had burned through all the
+years like a red-hot iron, leaving a crisped and blackened scar upon his
+soul. How could he be at peace? How ease the pain? Tears of anguish
+rolled down his cheeks. He turned and tossed in agony, wishing that the
+scar could be cut away, and that he could be made fit to dwell with the
+angels. But in his agony he heard another voice <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>saying, "Come unto me,
+and I will give you rest."</p>
+
+<p>They were no longer tears of sorrow which wet his pillow, but of joy,
+for he saw that Jesus, having carried the cross up to Calvary, was able
+and willing also to bear his burden. What a friend,&mdash;to take away all
+his sin, and leave no scar, no pain, no sorrow! He would serve such a
+friend with his whole soul. He would do his duty, whatever it might be.
+For such a friend, he could go through all dangers and win his way to
+victory. For him he would live, and for him he would die, if need be, to
+save his country.</p>
+
+<p>"Go, my son,&mdash;your country calls you, and God will take care of you,"
+said his mother in the morning, when he told her that he thought it his
+duty to enlist.</p>
+
+<p>"I have decided to be a volunteer, and shall spend a half-hour with the
+school and then dismiss it, and this will be my last day as a teacher,"
+said Paul to the school committee, as he went for the last time to the
+school-house. It was hard to part with those who were dear to him. He
+had been so kind and gentle, and yet so firm and just, that all the
+scholars loved him.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p><p>"You may lay aside your books, I have not time to hear your
+lessons,"&mdash;he said, and then talked of what had happened,&mdash;said that the
+flag had been insulted, that justice, law, religious liberty, truth, and
+right had been overthrown, and that, unless the Rebellion was put down,
+they would have no country, no home,&mdash;that God and his country called
+him, and he must go. The issues at stake were not only worth living for,
+but they were worth dying for, if they could be secured in no other way.
+It was a duty to fight for them. How hard it was to say "Good by!" They
+would meet again, but perhaps not in this world. His voice trembled;
+there was weeping around the room. When he dismissed them, they had no
+heart to play; they could only think how good and kind he was, and how
+great their loss; and in imagination, looking into the gloomy future,
+beheld him in the thickest of the fight upon the battle-field.</p>
+
+<p>The whole country was aflame with patriotism. The drum-beat was heard
+not only in New Hope, but in every city and village of the land. There
+was a flag on almost every house. Farmers left their ploughs in the
+unfinished furrows; the fire of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span>the blacksmith's forge went out;
+carpenters laid down their planes; lawyers put aside their cases in the
+courts,&mdash;all to become citizen soldiers and aid in saving the
+country,&mdash;assembling in squads, companies, and regiments at the
+county-seats.</p>
+
+<p>He called upon Rev. Mr. Surplice. "The Lord be with you, to guide,
+protect, and bless you," said the good man as he bade Paul farewell. It
+was a blessing and a benediction which followed Paul all the day, which
+comforted and strengthened him, when he reflected that he might be
+bidding a last farewell to his friends.</p>
+
+<p>He was surprised to find that everybody was his friend; that all bade
+him God speed,&mdash;all, except Mr. Funk and Philip. It was evening when he
+called upon Azalia. He had shaken hands with Daphne and Hans, and others
+of his associates. The train would bear him away in the morning. Azalia
+came tripping down the path, holding out both hands to meet him at the
+gate. She greeted him with a sad smile. "You are not going away to the
+war, are you?" she asked with faltering voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Azalia, and I have come to bid you good by!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p><p>"Do you think it your duty to go and leave your mother? It will be hard
+for her to give you up; she will miss you very much, and we shall all
+miss you."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that the old house will be lonesome,&mdash;that the days will be long
+and the nights dreary to my mother,&mdash;that she will listen to every
+approaching footstep and think perhaps it is mine. I know, Azalia, that
+possibly I may never return; I feel that perhaps this is the last time I
+may ever take you by the hand; but I feel that God and my country both
+are calling me, and that I must go."</p>
+
+<p>"But what if you are killed on the battle-field! O Paul, it is dreadful
+to think of!"</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather die there while doing what I feel to be my duty, than
+remain here shirking responsibility. Last night I heard the voices of
+the past calling me, and I seemed to see the myriads who are to come
+after us beckoning me. I know it is my duty to go. You would not have me
+falter, would you, Azalia?"</p>
+
+<p>She could not reply. Her voice choked with emotion; she had not expected
+such a question. Tears <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>came into her eyes, and she turned away to hide
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"I could not go without coming to see you, to thank you for all your
+kindness to me; you have been always a faithful and true friend. God
+bless you for all you have done for me! I know your goodness of heart,
+and I hope that, when I am gone, you will sometimes go in and comfort my
+mother, and shorten the hours for her; for your smile is always like the
+sunshine, and it will cheer her."</p>
+
+<p>"I will do what I can to make her forget that you are gone."</p>
+
+<p>"And you will not wholly forget me."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never forget you," she replied; then, looking steadily upon
+him, with a strong effort to keep down her emotion, said, "Paul, I have
+heard that there are many dangers in camp; that soldiers sometimes
+forget home and old friends, and become callous and hardened to good
+influences; that they lose sight of heaven and things holy and pure amid
+the new duties and strange excitements. But for the sake of those who
+respect and honor and love you, you will not give way to vice, will you?
+I know you will not, for my sake."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p><p>"For your sake, Azalia, if for no other reason, I will resist evil, and
+I will try to serve God and my country faithfully in all things, so that
+if I come back, or if I fall in battle, you will not be ashamed of
+having once been my friend."</p>
+
+<p>She touched her sweet lips to his forehead, saying, "I have nothing else
+to give you for such a promise. Remember that it came from your old
+friend, Azalia."</p>
+
+<p>His heart was full. He had braved himself to say farewell to all his
+friends without shedding a tear, but his courage was faltering. How
+could he go, perhaps never to return! He wanted to say more. He wanted
+to sit down at her feet and worship such goodness; but he could only
+dash away the tears, look for a moment into her eyes, drink in the sad
+smile upon her face, leave a kiss upon her cheek, press her a moment to
+his heart, and say, "God bless you, Azalia!"</p>
+
+<p>He turned hastily away, and passed through the gate. He cast one glance
+behind, and beheld her standing in the gravelled walk, her chestnut hair
+falling upon her shoulders, and the setting sun throwing around her its
+golden light. She waved him an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span>adieu, and he passed on, thinking of her
+as his good angel. When far away, pacing his lonely beat at dead of
+night, he would think of her and behold her as in that parting hour.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h2>A SOLDIER.</h2>
+
+
+<p>He was a soldier in camp, wearing a blue uniform, sleeping in a tent,
+wrapped in a blanket, with a knapsack for a pillow. He had voluntarily
+given up the freedom of home, and was ready to yield obedience to
+military rule. He could not pass the guard without a permit. When the
+drum beat, he must spring to his feet. He was obliged to wear a
+knapsack, a cartridge-box, a canteen, and a bayonet scabbard, and carry
+a gun, not always as he would like to carry it, but as ordered by the
+officer in command. He was obliged to march hour after hour, and if he
+came to a brook or a muddy place, instead of turning aside and passing
+over on stepping-stones or upon a fallen tree, he must go through
+without breaking the ranks. His companions were not altogether such as
+he liked to associate with. Some were very profane, and used indecent
+language. There was one great, over-grown Dutchman, Gottlieb von Dunk,
+who smoked nearly all the time when <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span>awake, and who snored terribly when
+asleep. But he was a good-hearted fellow for all that, and had a great
+many pleasant stories to tell.</p>
+
+<p>It was inspiring to hear the drum and fife, the blast of the bugle, and
+the playing of the band. It was glorious to look upon the star-spangled
+banner, waving in the breeze; but the excitement soon wore away. There
+were rainy days, comfortless and cheerless. Sometimes the rations were
+not fit to be eaten, and there was grumbling in the camp. There were
+days of homesickness, when the soldiers longed to break away from the
+restraints of camp life, and be free once more.</p>
+
+<p>The regiment in which Paul enlisted was ordered to Cairo, in Illinois,
+where it joined several others. When the men were enlisted, they
+expected to march at once upon the Rebels, but week after week passed
+by, spring became summer, and summer lengthened into autumn, and there
+was no movement of the troops. The ardor of their patriotism died out.
+It was a monotonous life, waking early in the morning to answer
+roll-call, to eat breakfast of salt pork and hard-tack, drilling by
+squads, by companies, by battalion, marching and countermarching, going
+through <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span>the same man[oe]uvres every day, shouldering, ordering, and
+presenting arms, making believe load and fire, standing on guard,
+putting out their lights at nine o'clock at night,&mdash;doing all this, week
+after week, with the Rebels at Columbus, only twenty miles down the
+river. It was very irksome. Sometimes Paul's heart went back to New
+Hope, as the dear old times came crowding upon him; but he had learned
+to be patient. He knew that it was necessary for soldiers to become
+disciplined. He had enlisted for the war, he gave his whole attention to
+doing his duty, and received his reward by being made a sergeant. He
+kept his gun clean, his equipments in good order, and he was always in
+his place. So prompt was he, that his commander nicknamed him Sergeant
+Ready. He was as ready to play a game of football, or to run a race, as
+he was to appear in the ranks at drill. When off duty, instead of idling
+away his time, he was studying the tactics, learning not only his duty
+as a sergeant, but what it would be if he were a lieutenant or a
+captain.</p>
+
+<p>The camp of his regiment was near the town, on the bank of the
+Mississippi, where he saw the great steamboats pass down the Mississippi
+from St. Louis, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>and down the Ohio from Louisville and Cincinnati, with
+thousands of troops on board, with the flags and banners streaming, the
+bands playing, and the soldiers cheering. It was pleasant to stand upon
+the levee, and behold the stirring scenes,&mdash;the gunboats commanded by
+the brave and good Admiral Foote, the great eleven-inch guns peeping
+from the portholes,&mdash;but Paul longed for active life. He rejoiced when
+he heard that his regiment was ordered to leave the Ohio River and go
+down toward Columbus on a reconnoitring expedition. The soldiers were so
+happy that they threw up their caps and gave a loud hurrah.</p>
+
+<p>With their haversacks full of hard-tack and cold boiled beef, carrying
+their tin cups and plates, their cartridge-boxes full of cartridges,
+they embarked on one of the great steamboats, and floated down the
+river. They were exhilarated with the thought that they were to have new
+and untried experiences,&mdash;that perhaps there would be a battle. They
+paced the deck of the steamboat nervously, and looked carefully into the
+woods along the river-bank to see if there were any Rebel scouts lurking
+behind the trees.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p><p>Six miles below Cairo is a place called Old Fort Jefferson, where many
+years ago the white settlers built a fort, and where they had a battle
+with the Indians. The Essex gunboat, Captain Porter, was lying there,
+swinging at her anchors in the stream. A sailor paced the deck in a
+short blue jacket, who had a spy-glass in his hand, and kept a sharp
+lookout down the river, for there were two Rebel gunboats below in the
+bend.</p>
+
+<p>The regiment landed on the Kentucky side, where a narrow creek comes
+down from the hills through a wild ravine. Suddenly there was a cry of
+"There they come! the Rebel gunboats." Paul looked down the river, and
+saw two dark-colored boats.</p>
+
+<p>"Heave anchor! Put on steam. Light up the magazines. Pipe all hand to
+quarters! Lively!" were the orders on board the Essex.</p>
+
+<p>The boatswain blew his whistle, the drummer beat the long roll, and the
+sailors, who had been dozing about the decks, were instantly astir,
+weighing the anchors, running out the great guns, bringing up shot and
+shell from the hold, and clearing the deck for action. The great wheels
+turned, and the Essex swung out into the stream, and prepared to meet
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>her antagonists. What an exciting moment! Paul felt the blood rush
+through his veins as he never felt it before. One of the approaching
+gunboats was suddenly enveloped in white smoke. He heard a screaming in
+the air, coming nearer and nearer, and growing louder and louder and
+more terrifying. He felt a cold chill creep over him. He held his
+breath. He was in doubt whether it would be better to get behind a tree,
+or lie down, or take to his heels. He could see nothing in the air, but
+he knew that a shot was coming. Perhaps it might hit him. He thought of
+home, his mother, Azalia, and all the old friends. He lived years in a
+second. "I won't run," he said to himself, as the iron bolt came on.
+Crash! it went through a great oak-tree, shivering it to splinters, and
+flying on into the woods, cutting off branches, and falling to the
+ground at last with a heavy <i>thug!</i> ploughing a deep furrow and burying
+itself out of sight. There was a roar of thunder rolling along the
+river-banks, echoing from woodland to woodland. Then the heavy
+eleven-inch gun of the Essex jumped up from the deck, took a leap
+backwards, almost jerking the great iron ringbolts from the sides of the
+ship, coming down with a jar which made her quiver <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span>from stem to stern,
+sending a shell, smoking and hissing, down stream, towards the Rebel
+gunboat, and striking it amidships, throwing the planks into the water.
+"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted the crew of the Essex. "Hurrah! Hurrah!"
+answered the soldiers on shore, dancing about and cheering. Another shot
+came screeching towards them as loud as the first; but it was not half
+so terrifying. Paul thought it was not worth while to be frightened till
+he was hurt, and so he stood his ground, and watched the firing till the
+Rebel gunboats turned towards Columbus and disappeared behind the
+distant headland, followed by Captain Porter, who kept his great guns
+booming till he was almost within range of the Rebel batteries at
+Columbus. He was a brave man, short and stout, with a heavy beard. His
+father commanded the United States ship Essex in 1812, and had a long,
+hard fight with two British ships in the harbor of Valparaiso, fighting
+against great odds, till his decks were slippery with blood, till nearly
+all of his guns were dismounted, when he was obliged to surrender.</p>
+
+<p>"The son is a chip of the old block," said Admiral Foote the next day to
+Captain Porter, commending <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span>his watchfulness and promptness to meet the
+enemy. Paul saw how necessary it was in military operations to be always
+on the watch, and he felt that it was also necessary to be calm and
+self-possessed when on the battle-field.</p>
+
+<p>The regiment took up its line of march, for a reconnoissance towards
+Columbus, along a winding path through the woods, passing log
+farm-houses, crossing creeks on log bridges. Paul noticed all the
+windings of the road, the hills, houses, and other objects, keeping
+count of his steps from one place to another, jotting it down on a slip
+of paper when the regiment came to a halt. They could not kindle a fire,
+for they were in the enemy's country, and each man ate his supper of
+hard-tack and cold beef, and washed it down with water from the creek.</p>
+
+<p>Paul was sitting on a log eating his supper, and looking about for a
+place to spread his blanket for the night, when the Colonel of the
+regiment came to him and said: "Sergeant Parker, it is very important
+that a reconnoissance be made to-night towards the enemy's lines. I hear
+that you are a good, faithful, and trustworthy soldier. Are you willing
+to take it?"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p><p>"I have no desire to shirk any responsibility. If you wish me to go, I
+am ready," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well; gain all the information you can, and report at daybreak,"
+said the Colonel.</p>
+
+<p>He went out alone in the darkness, past the pickets. And now that he was
+alone, and moving towards the enemy, he felt that he was engaged in a
+hazardous undertaking. He walked softly, crouching down, listening to
+every sound;&mdash;on through deep and gloomy ravines, through the dense
+forests, past farm-houses, where dogs were howling,&mdash;noticing all the
+objects, and picturing them in memory.</p>
+
+<p>"Halt! Who comes there?" shouted a voice. He heard the click of a
+gun-lock. It was a very dark night; stooping close to the ground, he
+could see an object by the roadside, immediately before him. He held his
+breath. What should he do? "Keep cool," said a monitor within. His heart
+had leaped into his throat, but it went back to its proper place. "Who
+comes there?" said the sentinel again.</p>
+
+<p>Instead of answering, he moved backward so softly and noiselessly that
+he could not hear his own footsteps.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p><p>"What is the row?" he heard a Rebel officer ask of the sentinel.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a Yankee prowling about, I reckon," said the sentinel in a
+whisper, and added, "There he is."</p>
+
+<p>"Shoot him!" said the officer.</p>
+
+<p>There was a flash which blinded Paul. He heard the Minie bullet sing
+above him. He could see the dark forms of the two men. He had a revolver
+in his hand, and could have shot them, but he was there to gain
+information, and not to bring on a fight.</p>
+
+<p>"It is nothing but a stump, after all," said the officer.</p>
+
+<p>The report of the gun re-echoed far and near. The night was still, and
+he could hear other pickets talking out in the field on his right hand
+and on his left. How fortunate! He knew where they were, and now could
+avoid them. But ought he not to turn back? He resolved not to be
+frightened from his object. After lying still awhile, he went back along
+the road, then turned aside, walked softly from tree to tree, careful
+not to crackle a twig beneath his feet, crept on his hands and knees
+through <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>the thick underbrush, and gained the road in the rear of the
+picket. Being inside of the enemy's lines, he knew that he could move
+more freely, for if any of the sentinels heard him they would think it
+one of their own number. He walked on, but suddenly found himself
+standing face to face with a dozen soldiers.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Jim, are there any Yankees down there?" one asked.</p>
+
+<p>"The sentinel thought he saw a Yankee, but I reckon he fired at a
+stump," said Paul, passing boldly by them to their rear.</p>
+
+<p>He now saw that he was in a Rebel camp. There were smouldering fires,
+tents, a cannon, baggage-wagons, and horses which were munching their
+grain. What should he do? He felt that he was in a critical situation.
+If taken, he would be hung as a spy. He stood still and reflected a
+moment, to calm his nerves. He had blundered in, perhaps he might get
+out. He would try; but as he was there, ought he not to improve the
+opportunity to find out all about the camp, how large it was, how many
+men there were? He counted the baggage-wagons and the tents. He almost
+stumbled over <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span>a man who was wrapped in his blanket. It was an officer
+sound asleep, with his sword by his side. He was sleeping so deeply that
+Paul ventured to take the sword, for he thought, unless he carried
+something back as evidence, his report would not be believed. And then
+he crept back past the grand guard, and past the sentinels, sometimes
+crawling an inch at a time, then stepping as noiselessly as a cat in
+search of her prey, till he was past them all. He was surprised to find
+how cool and self-possessed he was, how clear his brain, and how wide
+awake were all his faculties. He was as light-hearted as a bird in
+spring-time, for even in the darkness, while he was dimly discerning
+what was around him, he saw Azalia, as he last beheld her in the
+gravelled walk before her home, waving him on! At daybreak he reached
+the lines once more. The Colonel heard his story, and was in doubt about
+its truth; but when he saw how accurate a map Paul drew, and that the
+sword was marked C. S. A., for the Confederate States of America,&mdash;when
+he saw how modest and straightforward Paul was in all that he did,&mdash;he
+said, "Sergeant Parker, I shall inform General Grant that you have done
+your duty faithfully."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h2>SCOUTING.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Sergeant Parker is hereby ordered to report immediately at General
+Grant's Headquarters," was the order which Paul received the next
+morning. He wondered what General Grant could want of him. He entered
+the General's tent, and saw a short, thick-set, middle-aged man with
+sandy whiskers, sitting at a table, reading letters and smoking a cigar.
+He was dressed in a plain blue blouse, and as he had no straps on his
+shoulders, Paul thought he was the General's orderly.</p>
+
+<p>"Is General Grant about?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," said the man, looking up pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to see him," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I am General Grant."</p>
+
+<p>Paul was astonished to find a general so affable and pleasant, for he
+had seen some lieutenants and captains strut like turkey-cocks, because
+they wore straps on their shoulders. Paul saluted the General, and said,
+"I am ordered to report to you, sir."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p><p>"O yes; you are Sergeant Parker, who made a reconnoissance last night;
+sit down, Sergeant, till I finish my letters." It was spoken so
+pleasantly and kindly, that Paul said to himself, "He is a gentleman."</p>
+
+<p>When the General had finished his letters he lighted another cigar, and
+questioned Paul about his adventures; how far it was to the Rebel camp,
+and how the camp was situated.</p>
+
+<p>"I will give you a sketch of the place," said Paul; and, sitting up to
+the table, he drew a map, putting down the creeks, the roads, the woods,
+the distances from point to point, the place where he came upon the
+pickets, the position of the tents, and all the objects he saw. The
+General sat in silence, smoking, and looking at Paul with a keen eye. It
+was drawn neatly and quickly, and with an accuracy which surprised the
+General. Paul had kept count of his steps from one object to another. By
+looking up to the stars he had kept the points of the compass, and knew
+whether he travelled south, or southeast, or southwest, and so he was
+able to draw an excellent map.</p>
+
+<p>"Where did you study topographical engineering?" the General asked.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span></p><p>"By the kitchen fire," Paul replied.</p>
+
+<p>"A good college to graduate from, especially if a fellow has grit," said
+the General, smiling. "Are you willing to undertake a hazardous
+enterprise?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I am willing to undertake anything for my country," Paul replied.</p>
+
+<p>The General then told him that he wished to obtain information about
+Fort Henry on the Tennessee River, and Fort Donelson on the Cumberland.
+He showed him the positions on a map, and said it was an undertaking of
+great importance, and which might cost him his life. "I will give you a
+trustworthy companion," said he.</p>
+
+<p>"I would rather attempt it alone, if you please. Two is one too many; it
+doubles our risk. If discovered by the Rebels, I couldn't help my
+comrade, neither could he help me. If we keep together, we shall have
+the same information. I think I shall succeed better alone," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"You are right," said the General, who told him that he might prepare
+for the trip, and that he would be sent up the Tennessee River on a
+gunboat, and put on shore a few miles from Fort Henry, and that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span>he must
+return in ten days. "I hear a good report of you, and have confidence in
+you. I desire accurate information; for if it is not accurate, it may
+lead to very disastrous results," said the General.</p>
+
+<p>Two nights later, Paul stood alone on the bank of the Tennessee. The
+gunboat which had brought him was going back. He could hear the plashing
+of her wheels growing fainter each moment. He was in the enemy's
+country, on an undertaking which might cost him his life. If discovered,
+he would be hung. For an instant his heart failed him, and he felt that
+he must turn back; then he remembered that he had enlisted in the
+service of his country, to do his duty, whatever it might be. His duty
+was before him. He was upon the ground. Would not God take care of him?
+Was not the path of duty, although it might lead to death, the only path
+of safety? There are times when duty is worth more than life. "Whatever
+is right before the Eternal God, that I will do," said Paul to himself.
+His fear was gone. He resolved to be bold, yet cautious, and to keep his
+thoughts perfectly collected under all circumstances. He had succeeded
+in one reconnoissance, which made him hopeful; but he reflected <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span>that
+success often makes men careless, so he resolved to be always on his
+guard. He had changed his uniform for a pair of old butternut-colored
+pantaloons, a ragged coat, and a slouched hat which had a hole in the
+crown. He hardly recognized himself he was so altered in appearance. He
+wondered if Azalia or Daphne would know him. He had no weapon or
+equipments. There was nothing about him which indicated that he was a
+soldier of the Union army ready to lay down his life for the old flag.</p>
+
+<p>He walked cautiously along the winding path, noticing all the objects;
+looking up to the north star at every turn of the road, keeping tally of
+his steps that he might know the distance travelled. He walked
+stealthily, expecting every moment to hear the challenge of the Rebel
+pickets. He was startled by the cry, "Who! Who! Who!" He came to a
+sudden halt, and then laughed to think that he had been challenged by an
+owl.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning he came upon a party of men cutting wood, and found that
+they were Rebel soldiers outside of the picket line. Paul took an axe
+and went to work, and so became one of them. When <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span>they went into camp
+he accompanied them, carrying the axe on his shoulder, thus passing the
+picket as a wood-chopper. He found three or four thousand soldiers at
+Fort Henry, hard at work, throwing up breastworks, digging ditches,
+hewing timber, mounting guns. He worked with them, but kept his eyes and
+ears open, noticing the position of the fort on the bank of the river,
+and how many guns there were. He found out what troops were there, where
+they came from, and who commanded them. He learned that a wagon-train
+was going to Fort Donelson after ammunition. He joined it and passed the
+picket as one of the train guards. As the wagons were empty, he had a
+chance to ride, and thus saved a weary walk of twelve miles.</p>
+
+<p>The little town of Dover, which is near Fort Donelson, he found alive
+with troops; regiments were arriving from Arkansas, Mississippi, Texas,
+and Tennessee. General Pillow was there in command. He was once an
+officer in the army of the United States and fought in Mexico. General
+Floyd was there with a brigade of Virginians. He was Secretary of War
+when Buchanan was President, and did what he could to destroy the Union.
+He was a thief as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span>well as a Rebel. He was a large, coarse man. Paul
+despised him, and could hardly restrain himself from knocking the
+villain from his horse when he saw him ride by wearing the uniform of a
+traitor. There was not much discipline in the Rebel army, and Paul found
+little difficulty in going through all the camps, ascertaining what
+regiments were there. It nettled him to hear the boasts of the soldiers
+that one Southerner could whip five Yankees, but he said nothing for
+fear of betraying himself. He obtained food at a sutler's tent. He was
+very tired and sleepy when the second night came, but he found a place
+to sleep at a house in the village.</p>
+
+<p>"What regiment do you belong to?" asked a girl with a sallow countenance
+and grimy hands.</p>
+
+<p>"I am a scout," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Be you a scout? Wal, I hope you will run across Old Abe Linkum. If you
+do, jest take his <i>skelp</i> for me." (She meant his scalp.)</p>
+
+<p>"Wal, if I <i>cotch</i> him, I reckon I'll <i>skelp</i> him," said Paul,
+flourishing his knife, as if he was ready for such bloody work.</p>
+
+<p>"The Yanks are a set of vagabonds; they are the meanest critters on
+airth," said the woman. "They'll hang you if they cotch you."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p><p>"I reckon I won't let 'em cotch me," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Where be you gwine next?"</p>
+
+<p>"Down to Cairo, I reckon; though I go wherever the General sends me."</p>
+
+<p>"May be you would do a little chore for me,&mdash;get me some pins, needles,
+and thread?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is mighty skittish business, but I'll see what I can do," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>Having obtained his information, his next business was to get away. He
+waited till the lights were put out in the camps at night, then, walking
+down to the river he found a small boat, jumped in and pushed out into
+the stream. He could see the sentinels on the parapet of the fort as he
+floated past, but they did not discover him. Paul congratulated himself
+that he was beyond the picket line when he heard a hail from both shores
+at the same time. "Boat ahoy!" He made no reply. "Boat ahoy! come ashore
+or I'll fire," said both sentinels. He saw that he could not escape by
+rowing. They would fire if he attempted to go ahead or turn back. If he
+went ashore, he would be taken to the guard-house, questioned, probably
+put into prison, perhaps tried as a spy. He resolved that he wouldn't
+go <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span>ashore. There was no time for deliberation. It was mid-winter; the
+air was keen, and there was floating ice in the river. If he remained in
+the boat he might be shot, so he lowered himself noiselessly into the
+water. How cold it was! He felt the chill strike through him, setting
+his teeth to chattering, and his limbs quivering. There was another
+hail, and then a flash on both shores. The balls went through the boat.
+He heard the stroke of oars, and saw a boat pushing out from the shore.
+He darted ahead, swimming noiselessly down stream, gradually nearing the
+shore, for his strength was failing. He heard the men in the boat say,
+"We are fooled, it is only an empty dug-out."</p>
+
+<p>How hard it was to climb the bank! He could not stand, he was so
+chilled. Once he rose to his feet, but tumbled like a log to the ground.
+He wanted to go to sleep, but he knew it would be his last sleep if he
+yielded. He drained the water from his boots, rubbed his legs, thrashed
+his hands, and then went reeling and blundering in the darkness over
+fallen trees. What a wearisome, cheerless night it was! How he longed
+for a fire,&mdash;a cup of warm coffee,&mdash;a comfortable bed! He thought of his
+own <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>bed in the little old house at New Hope, and wished that he might
+lie there once more, and snuggle down beneath the warm comforters. His
+clothes were frozen, and notwithstanding he beat his hands till the
+blood dripped from his fingers, he could get up no warmth. "Halt! Who
+comes there?" was the sharp challenge which startled him from his
+dreaming. He was close upon a picket. He turned in an instant, and began
+to run. He heard footsteps following. The thought that he was pursued
+roused all his energies. The footsteps came nearer. Putting forth all
+his strength, holding his breath, Paul went on, stumbling, rising again,
+leaping, hearing the footsteps of his pursuer coming nearer; suddenly he
+came to a deep, narrow creek. He did not hesitate an instant, but
+plunged in, swam to the other bank, gained the solid ground, and dropped
+behind a tree just as his pursuer reached the creek. The Rebel stopped
+and listened, but Paul remained perfectly still, hardly daring to
+breathe, till he heard the fellow go back muttering to himself and
+cursing the creek. The running had warmed Paul, but he was exhausted and
+drenched once more. Daybreak came, and he did not dare to travel; so,
+finding some <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>stacks of corn in a field, he tore one of them open, made
+a bed inside, drew the bundles over him, shivered awhile, and then
+dropped asleep.</p>
+
+<p>He awoke suddenly to find his house tumbling to pieces,&mdash;torn down by
+Rebel soldiers.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello! What's here? Who be ye? What are ye up to?" said a sergeant,
+startled to find a man under the bundles. "Deserter, eh? or a spy, I
+reckon," said the fellow, holding a pistol to Paul's head.</p>
+
+<p>"Better put up your shooting-irons," said Paul coolly.</p>
+
+<p>"Give an account of yourself, how ye came here, <i>whar</i> ye have been, and
+<i>whar</i> ye gwine."</p>
+
+<p>Paul noticed that he said <i>whar</i> for where, and replied, "I am a scout,
+and have been down by the river <i>whar</i> the Yankee gunboats is."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't believe it; you look like a scarecrow, but I reckon you are a
+Yankee spy," said the Sergeant. He searched Paul, but found nothing. He
+was commanding a cavalry foraging-party, and was a brutal, ignorant
+fellow, and had been drinking whiskey, and wanted to show that he had
+power. "Boys, bring a halter; I reckon I'll make this fellow confess
+that he is a Yankee."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p><p>A soldier brought a rope; one end was thrown over the limb of a tree,
+and the other made into a slip-noose, and put round his neck; but he did
+not flinch. To confess that he was a spy was sure death. He was calm.
+For a moment his thoughts went back to his home. He thought of his
+mother and Azalia; but there was little time for such reflection. He did
+not feel that his work was done. "Wal, Sergeant, what be you gwine to
+do?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Hang you as a spy," said the Sergeant.</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of a report will you make to the General? What do ye think he
+will do to you when he finds that you have hung one of his scouts?" Paul
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>"See here, Sergeant, I reckon your are a leetle too fast in this
+matter," said one of the soldiers.</p>
+
+<p>Paul saw that the time had come for a bold course on his part. He had
+already ascertained what regiment of cavalry they belonged to. He had
+seen their Colonel at Dover. "What do you suppose Colonel Forrest will
+say, when he hears of this proceeding of yours?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>The Sergeant started at the mention of the name of his commander, and
+began to see the proceeding in a new light. Paul threw the noose from
+his neck <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span>and said, in a tone of authority: "I will report you, sir. I
+will have you arrested. I'll teach you to do your duty better than this.
+I am an officer. I know General Pillow, General Floyd, General Buckner,
+and Colonel Forrest. I am out on important business. You found me
+asleep, and instead of taking me to your superior officer, as you ought
+to have done, you proceed to hang me. You are drunk, sir, and I'll have
+you punished."</p>
+
+<p>The Sergeant was very much frightened. He saw how noble a countenance
+Paul had, and felt his tone of authority. "I didn't mean any harm, sir;
+I wanted to do my duty," said the Sergeant, taking off his hat, and
+holding down his head.</p>
+
+<p>"Because you are a sergeant, you wanted to show your authority," said
+Paul. "Now go about your business, all of you, and when I get to General
+Pillow's head-quarters I will see to your case."</p>
+
+<p>The soldiers who had gathered round started off at once to their work,
+while Paul walked towards Fort Donelson. He had gone but a few steps,
+when the Sergeant followed him, and, taking off his hat, said, "Please,
+Colonel, don't be too hard on me, I won't do so again."</p>
+
+<p>"It will be my duty to report you; but if you will <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span>promise to be more
+careful in the future I will tell the General when I make my report not
+to be too hard," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be more <i>keerful</i> next time, and won't get drunk again, Colonel,
+never."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," said Paul, walking on till he reached a piece of woods;
+then, turning from the path, he made his way towards the river again,
+wondering at his escape. He had a long walk through the woods, but when
+he reached the gunboats lying in the stream, how his heart leaped for
+joy!</p>
+
+<p>He kept all he had seen so well in memory, that when he reached Cairo he
+was able to draw an accurate plan of the forts and country around them.</p>
+
+<p>General Grant listened to his story with great interest, and when Paul
+had finished said, "You have performed your work acceptably; you
+understand topography; I wish to keep you at my head-quarters, and
+therefore appoint you a Lieutenant of Engineers."</p>
+
+<p>It was so unexpected a promotion, and such an expression of confidence,
+that Paul was very much confused, and could only say, while blushing
+very red, "I thank you, sir."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h2>MISSED FROM HOME.</h2>
+
+
+<p>How lonesome it was in New Hope through all these days! Everybody missed
+Paul. He was missed by the school-children, for the teacher who
+succeeded him was cross and harsh, while Paul was always kind and
+pleasant. He was missed by the congregation on Sunday, for although Hans
+did his best as leader of the choir, he could not fill Paul's place. He
+was missed by his mother, who, through the long, wearisome days and
+lonely nights, thought only of him, her pride, her joy, her hope. How
+good Azalia was to visit the Post-office every morning to get the
+letters which Paul wrote to his mother, often finding one for herself!
+How pleasant to read what he wrote of life in camp! How thrilling the
+narrative of his adventures, his visit to the forts, his narrow escapes!
+As she read it, her heart stood still while the letter was wet with
+tears. What if the rebels had hung him! It was terrible to think of.
+What could she do to comfort him? How help him,&mdash;how <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span>relieve his
+sufferings and hardships? She would knit him a pair of gloves and
+stockings. But his comrades needed them as well as he. Why not ask
+Daphne to help? Why not ask all the girls to do something? So she
+thought the matter over through the long winter nights, planning a
+soldiers' sewing and knitting society.</p>
+
+<p>Pleasant gatherings they had in the vestry of the church on Wednesday
+afternoons working for the soldiers. Azalia's cheeks were flushed with
+rare beauty when she read Paul's letters to them with trembling voice.
+There were many moist eyes, for all felt that, if he and his comrades
+were undergoing such hardships and dangers for them, that they might
+have a home and a united country, they ought to do all they could in
+return; and so, while knitting stockings for the soldiers, their hearts
+were knit in deeper love and devotion to their country.</p>
+
+<p>But they had something besides Paul's adventures to talk about; for one
+Monday morning when Mr. Bond, the town treasurer, opened his office, he
+found that it had been entered by robbers, who had stolen all the
+money,&mdash;several thousand dollars. It was soon discovered that Philip
+Funk was missing. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span>sheriffs and constables set themselves to hunt
+him up. They got upon his track, followed him to the Ohio River, and
+across into Kentucky; but he was too swift for them, and succeeded in
+getting into the Rebel lines with the stolen money. Notwithstanding he
+was a robber, his sister Fanny held her head as high as ever. She did
+not attend the soldiers' aid society. She hoped that the South would
+succeed in establishing its independence, and was glad that Philip had
+gone to help the Southern soldiers. "I hope he will come across Paul,"
+said Fanny to Daphne Dare one day.</p>
+
+<p>"So do I, and I hope that Paul will shoot him," said Daphne, with
+flashing eyes. She had the spirit of her father, and added, "He is a
+traitor and a robber, and I hope somebody will shoot him."</p>
+
+<p>Fanny spit at the flag which hung over the street every time she passed
+it, to show her hatred of it. Daphne was very indignant, and proposed to
+her associates that they should compel Fanny to wave the stars and
+stripes; but Azalia said it would be a severer punishment to take no
+notice of her. "We might make her wave the flag, but that would not make
+her love it, and such forced loyalty would be of no value."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p><p>So, acting upon Azalia's advice, all of the girls passed her by, taking
+no notice of her on the street, at the Post-office, or in church, not
+recognizing her by word or look. Fanny bore it awhile with a brazen
+face, but soon found it hard to have no one to speak to. The great want
+of the human heart in time of trouble is sympathy. Our wills may bear us
+up awhile, but sooner or later we must unburden our feelings, or feel
+the burning of a slow consuming fire, destroying all our peace and
+happiness. The days were cheerless to Fanny. If she walked out upon the
+street, she saw only the averted faces of her former friends. They would
+not speak to her, and if she addressed them they turned away without
+answering,&mdash;avoiding her as if she was infected with the plague. When
+the cold northeast storms came, when the clouds hung low upon the hills,
+when the wind howled in the woods, when the rain pattered upon the
+withered leaves, how lonesome the hours! She was haughty and
+self-willed, friendless and alone; but instead of becoming loyal and
+behaving like a good, sensible girl, she nursed her pride; and comforted
+herself by thinking that her great-grandfather Funk was a fine old
+Virginian gentleman. If a still, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>small voice whispered that it was mean
+and wicked in Philip to take money which did not belong to him, she
+quieted her conscience by the reflection that it was right for the
+Rebels to do all the damage they could to their enemies in securing
+their independence. When the storm was loudest, she rejoiced in the hope
+that some of the Yankee ships would be wrecked, or that the Mississippi
+River would overflow its bank and drown the Yankee regiments in their
+camps.</p>
+
+<p>Not so did Azalia listen to the storm. When the great drops rattled upon
+the roof and dashed against the windows, she thought of Paul and his
+comrades as rushing into battle amid volleys of musketry; the mournful
+sighing of the wind was like the wailing of the wounded. She thought of
+him as marching wearily and alone through the dismal forest to perform
+deeds of daring; she thought of him as keeping watch through the stormy
+nights, cold, wet, hungry, and weary; not for glory, or fame, or hope of
+reward, but because it was his duty. And these were not sad hours to
+her.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE MARCH.</h2>
+
+
+<p>On Wednesday, the 12th of February, 1862, Paul found himself once more
+upon the road leading from Fort Henry to Fort Donelson, not now alone,
+but guiding an army of fifteen thousand men, with forty pieces of
+artillery. He was on horseback, and sat so well in the saddle that the
+cavalry-men said he rode like an old trooper. He was in uniform, and
+wore straps on his shoulders, and was armed with a sword and a revolver.
+He rode in advance of all, looking sharply into the thickets and down
+the ravines, to see if there were any Rebels in ambush.</p>
+
+<p>The sharpshooters followed him. They wore gray jackets and skull-caps,
+and were armed with rifles and long hunting-knives. They were famous
+hunters, and could shoot a deer upon the run, or bring down a
+prairie-chicken upon the wing. They were tough, hearty, jolly,
+courageous, daring fellows. They were in good spirits, for the rebels
+had fled in dismay from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>Fort Henry when the gunboats sent their shells
+into the fort.</p>
+
+<p>It was a hard march, for the roads were muddy, and they were obliged to
+wade through creeks although it was mid-winter. Paul noticed one brave
+fellow among them, whose feet were so sore that his steps were marked
+with blood, which oozed from a hole in the side of his shoe, and yet the
+man kept his place in the ranks.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me carry your gun," said Paul, and so, taking it across his saddle,
+helped the soldier. "You ought to be in the hospital," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't stay behind if there is to be any fighting," said the soldier,
+thanking Paul for his kindness; and then, in a low tone, the soldier
+said to his comrade, "There a'n't many officers like him who will help a
+fellow."</p>
+
+<p>At sunset the army halted in the woods beside a brook. Tents had been
+left behind, and the soldiers had no shelter from the wintry air. They
+cut down great trees and kindled huge fires. The farmers in that part of
+the country had large herds of pigs, which roamed the woods and lived on
+nuts. The soldiers had lived on salt meats for many months, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span>and,
+notwithstanding orders had been issued against committing depredations,
+they were determined to have a good supper. Crack! crack! crack! went
+their rifles. Some, instead of shooting, tried to catch the pigs. There
+were exciting chases, and laughable scenes,&mdash;a dozen men after one pig,
+trying to seize him by the ears, or by the hind legs, or by the tail.</p>
+
+<p>They had a charming time, sitting around the roaring fires, inhaling the
+savory odors of the steaks and spareribs broiling and roasting over the
+glowing coals on forked sticks, and of the coffee bubbling in their tin
+cups. The foot-sore sharpshooter whom Paul had helped on the march
+cooked a choice and tender piece, and presented it to Paul on a chip,
+for they had no plates. It was cooked so nicely that Paul thought he had
+never tasted a more delicious morsel.</p>
+
+<p>In the morning they had an excellent breakfast, and then resumed the
+march, moving slowly and cautiously through the woods, but finding no
+enemy till they came in sight of Fort Donelson.</p>
+
+<p>Paul had guided the army to the fort, but now he had other duties to
+perform. He was required to make a sketch of the ground around the fort,
+that General Grant might know where to form his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>lines,&mdash;on what hills
+to plant his cannon,&mdash;where to throw up breastworks for defence, should
+the rebels see fit to come out and attack him. Leaving his horse behind,
+Paul began his dangerous but important work on foot, that he might make
+an accurate map,&mdash;examining through his field-glass the breastworks of
+the rebels, counting their cannon, and beholding them hard at work. When
+night came he crept almost up to their lines. He was between the two
+armies,&mdash;a dangerous position, for the pickets on both sides were wide
+awake, and his own comrades might fire upon him before he could give the
+countersign. Although he stepped lightly, the sticks sometimes crackled
+beneath his feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Halt! Who goes there?" shouted a Rebel picket directly in front of him.
+It was so sudden, and he was so near, that Paul's hair stood on end. He
+darted behind a tree. Click! flash! bang! and a bullet came with a heavy
+<i>thug</i> into the tree. Bang! went another gun,&mdash;another,&mdash;and another;
+and the pickets all along the rebel lines, thinking that the Yankees
+were coming, blazed away at random. The Yankee pickets, thinking that
+the rebels were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span>advancing, became uneasy and fired in return. Paul
+could hear the bullets spin through the air and strike into the trees.
+His first thought was to get back to his comrades as soon as possible;
+then he reflected that it would be dangerous to attempt it just then.
+The firing woke up all the sleepers in the two armies. The drums were
+beating the long roll, the bugles were sounding, and he could hear the
+Rebel officers shouting to the men, "Fall in! fall in!" He laughed to
+think that the crackling of a stick had produced all this uproar. He
+wanted very much to join in the fun, and give the Rebel picket who had
+fired at him a return shot, but his orders were not to fire even if
+fired upon, for General Grant was not ready for a battle, and so, while
+the Rebels were reloading their guns, he glided noiselessly away. When
+he heard the bullets singing he expected to be hit; but as he was less
+than six feet high and only eighteen inches across his shoulders, and as
+it was dark and the soldiers were firing at random, he calculated that
+there was not one chance in a million of his being injured, and so
+through the night he went on with his reconnoissance along the lines,
+and completed the work assigned him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE BATTLE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>In the morning he found General Grant in a little old farm-house, where
+he had established his head-quarters. He appeared to be pleased with the
+map which Paul made of the ground, and said to Major Cavender, who
+commanded the regiment of Missouri Artillery, "Place your guns on that
+hill, and be ready to open upon the fort." He issued orders to General
+McClernand to go round to the southwest side of the town; to General
+Wallace, to hold the centre of the line, west of the town; and to
+General Smith, to be ready to storm the fort on the northwest side.</p>
+
+<p>It was a beautiful morning. The air was mild, and the birds sang in the
+trees though it was mid-winter. The sharpshooters ate their breakfast
+before sunrise, and began the battle by exchanging shots with the Rebel
+pickets. Though Paul had been up all night, there was no time for rest.
+He was sent with orders to the artillery officers,&mdash;to Captain Taylor,
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>Captain Dresser, and Captain Schwartz, telling them where to place their
+guns. As he rode over the hills and through the ravines, he passed the
+sharpshooters. Their rifles were cracking merrily. Among them was the
+soldier whom Paul had helped on the march. The soldier saluted him. Paul
+saw that he was not only foot-sore, but also sick.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not fit to go into battle; you ought to report to the surgeon,"
+said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't miss of being in this scrimmage that we are going to have
+to-day for the best farm in Illinois," said the soldier.</p>
+
+<p>Just then, the rebel cannon opened, and the shells came crashing through
+the front. Major Cavender had wheeled his guns into position, and was
+sighting them. One of the shells struck at his feet, and ploughed a deep
+furrow in the ground. Another struck a poor fellow in the breast,
+whirled him into the air, spattering his blood upon those who stood
+around, killing him instantly. As Paul beheld the quivering flesh, the
+sight filled him with horror, and made him sick at heart. Such might be
+his fate before the day was done. He thought of home,&mdash;of his mother, of
+Azalia, and of the dear friends <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span>far away. He thought also of God, and
+the hereafter; but remembered that he was in the keeping of his Heavenly
+Father. He was there to do his duty, and if he was to meet with death,
+would meet it resolutely; and so, regaining his composure, rode calmly
+along the lines, acting as aid to General Grant doing the duties
+assigned him.</p>
+
+<p>The battle lasted through the day, but the fort was not taken. The
+gunboats which were to sail up the Cumberland River had not arrived, and
+the provisions which the troops brought from Fort Henry were nearly
+exhausted. The day which had been so bright and beautiful was succeeded
+by a dreary night. The wind blew from the northeast. A rainstorm set in,
+which changed to snow, and became one of the severest storms ever known
+in that section of the country. It was a terrible night for the wounded.
+They had no protection from the storm. Hundreds had fallen during the
+day. Some were lying where they fell, close up under the Rebel
+breastworks, amid the tangled thickets, the blood oozing from their
+wounds and staining the drifting snow. It was heart-rending to hear
+their wailings, and cries of distress, and calls for help. When morning
+came, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>many a brave soldier was frozen to the ground. When Paul saw the
+terrible suffering, he felt that he was willing to make any sacrifice to
+put a stop to such horrors. But then he remembered that Justice, Truth,
+and Righteousness are more valuable than human life, and that it is
+better to fight for them than to yield to injustice and wickedness.</p>
+
+<p>But now the hearts of the soldiers were cheered with the news that the
+gunboats were coming. Paul looked down the river and saw a cloud of
+black smoke hanging over the forest, rising from their tall chimneys.
+Steamboats loaded with provisions came with the fleet. The soldiers
+swung their caps, and made the air ring with their lusty cheers.</p>
+
+<p>What a magnificent sight it was when the gunboats steamed up the river
+and opened fire upon the fort, covering themselves with clouds of smoke
+and flame, and all of the guns in the fort replying! The storm had died
+away, the air was still, and the roar of the cannonade was like thunder.
+All along the lines the sharpshooters' rifles were ringing. The soldiers
+crouched behind trees and logs and hillocks, lying on their faces,
+picking off the Rebel gunners when they attempted to load their cannon.
+But the day <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>passed and the fort was not taken. Saturday morning came,
+and the Rebels, finding themselves short of provisions, instead of
+waiting to be attacked, came out from the fort at daybreak, fifteen
+thousand strong, and made a sudden attack upon the Union army.</p>
+
+<p>A great battle followed, which lasted nearly all day. Thousands were
+killed and wounded. Paul was obliged to ride all over the field,
+carrying orders to the different generals, while the bullets fell like
+hailstones around him. Cannon-balls flew past him, shells exploded over
+his head, men fell near him, but he was unharmed. He saw with grief his
+comrades overpowered and driven, and could hardly keep back the tears
+when he saw the Rebels capture some of Captain Schwartz's guns. But when
+the infantry gave way and fled panic-stricken along the road towards
+Fort Henry, throwing away their muskets, his indignation was aroused.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop! or I'll shoot you," he said, drawing his revolver.</p>
+
+<p>"A'n't you ashamed of yourselves, you cowards?" shouted one brave
+soldier.</p>
+
+<p>Paul looked round to see who it was, and discovered his friend the
+sharpshooter, who thus aided him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span>in rallying the fugitives. Blood was
+dripping from his fingers. A ball had passed through one arm, but he had
+tied his handkerchief over the wound, and was on his way back to the
+lines to take part once more in the battle. Paul thanked the noble
+fellow for helping him, and then, with the aid of other officers, they
+rallied the fugitives till reinforcements came.</p>
+
+<p>Onward came the Rebels, flushed with success, and thinking to win a
+glorious victory; but they were cut down with shells and canister, and
+by the volleys of musketry which were poured upon them. It was with
+great satisfaction that Paul saw the shells tear through the Rebel
+ranks; not that he liked to see men killed, but because he wanted Right
+to triumph over Wrong. Again and again the Rebels marched up the hill,
+but were as often swept back by the terrible fire which burst from
+Captain Wood's, Captain Willard's, Captain Taylor's, and Captain
+Dresser's batteries. The little brook which trickled through the ravine
+at the foot of the hill was red with the blood of the slain. It was a
+fearful sight. But the Rebels at last gave up the attempt to drive the
+Union troops from the hill, and went back into <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>the fort. Then in the
+afternoon there was a grand charge upon the Rebel breastworks. With a
+wild hurrah they carried the old flag across the ravine, and up the hill
+beyond, over fallen trees and through thick underbrush. Men dropped from
+the ranks in scores, but on&mdash;on&mdash;on they went, driving the Rebels,
+planting the stars and stripes on the works; and though the Rebel
+regiments in the fort rained solid shot and shell and grape and canister
+and musket-balls upon them, yet they held the ground through the long,
+weary, dreary winter night. When the dawn came, the dawn of Sunday, they
+saw a white flag flung out from the parapet of the fort, and they knew
+that the enemy had surrendered. What a cheer they gave! They swung their
+hats, sang songs, and danced for joy. How beautifully the stars and
+stripes waved in the morning breeze! How proudly they marched into the
+fort and into the town,&mdash;the drums beating, the bugles sounding, and the
+bands playing!</p>
+
+<p>But how horrible the sight upon the field when the contest was
+over,&mdash;the dead, some cold and ghastly, others still warm with departing
+life, lying with their faces toward heaven, smiling as if only <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span>asleep!
+The ground was strewn with guns, knapsacks, and blood-stained garments;
+the snow had changed to crimson. Many wounded were lying where they
+fell, some whose lives were ebbing away calmly waiting the coming of
+death. As Paul walked over the field he came upon one lying with clasped
+hands and closed eyes, whose blood was flowing from a ghastly wound in
+his breast. As Paul stopped to gaze a moment upon a countenance which
+seemed familiar, the soldier opened his eyes and smiled; then Paul saw
+that it was the brave sharpshooter whom he had helped on the march, who,
+though sick, would not go into the hospital, though wounded, would not
+leave the field, and had aided him in rallying the fugitives. He had
+fought gallantly through the battle, and received his death-wound in the
+last grand charge.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad you have come, for I know that one who was kind enough to
+help a poor fellow on the march will be willing to do one thing more,"
+said the soldier, faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly. What can I do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not much, only I would like to have you overhaul my knapsack for me."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p><p>Paul unstrapped the knapsack from the soldier's back, and opened it.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a picture in there which I want to look at once more before I
+die. You will find it in my Bible."</p>
+
+<p>Paul handed him the Bible.</p>
+
+<p>"My mother gave me this blessed book the day I left home to join the
+army. It was her last gift. I promised to read it every day, and I would
+like to have you write to her and tell her that I have kept my promise.
+Tell her that I have tried to do my duty to my country and to my God. I
+would like to live, but am not afraid to die, and am not sorry that I
+enlisted. Write to my sister. She is a sweet girl,&mdash;I can see her
+now,&mdash;a bright-eyed, light-hearted, joyous creature. O, how she will
+miss me! Tell her to plant a rose-bush in the garden and call it my
+rose, that little Eddie, when he grows up, may remember that his eldest
+brother died for his country. They live away up in Wisconsin."</p>
+
+<p>He took a photograph from the Bible. It was the picture of a
+dark-haired, black-eyed, fair-featured girl, and he gazed upon it till
+the tears rolled down his cheeks. He drew his brawny hand across his
+face <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span>and wiped them away, but the effort started the bright blood
+flowing in a fresher stream. "It is hard to part from her. She promised
+to be my wife when I came home from the war," he said, and touched it to
+his lips, then gazed again till his sight grew dim. He laid it with the
+Bible on his breast.</p>
+
+<p>Paul wiped the cold sweat from the soldier's brow.</p>
+
+<p>"God bless you," he whispered, and looked up and smiled. His eyes
+closed, and the slowly heaving heart stood still. He was gone to the
+land where the Faithful and True receive their just reward.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h2>SHOWING WHAT HE WAS MADE OF.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There came a Sabbath morning,&mdash;one of the loveliest of all the year. The
+sun rose upon a cloudless sky, the air was laden with the fragrance of
+locust and alder blossoms, the oaks of the forest were changing from the
+gray of winter to the green of summer. Beneath their wide-spread
+branches were the tents of a great army; for after the capture of Fort
+Donelson the troops sailed up the Tennessee, and were preparing to
+attack the Rebels at Corinth.</p>
+
+<p>Paul was lying in his tent, thinking of home, of the calmness and
+stillness there, broken only by the chirping of the sparrows and robins,
+the church-bell, the choir, and the low voices of the congregation. How
+different from what was passing around him, where the drummers were
+beating the reveille! He was startled from his waking dream by a sudden
+firing out among the pickets. What could it mean? It grew more furious.
+There was confusion. He sprang to his feet and looked out to see what
+was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>the matter. Soldiers were running through the camp.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the row?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"The Rebels are attacking us."</p>
+
+<p>It did not take him long to dress; but, while pulling on his boots, a
+bullet tore through the tent-cloth over his head.</p>
+
+<p>The camp was astir. Officers shouted, "Fall in!" Soldiers, waking from
+sound sleep, buckled on their cartridge-boxes, seized their guns, and
+took their places in the ranks before they were fairly awake. The
+drummers beat the long-roll, the buglers sounded the signal for saddling
+horses, the artillery-men got their guns ready, cavalry-men leaped into
+their saddles, baggage-wagons went thundering towards the river. There
+was a volley of musketry, and then a deeper roar from the artillery, and
+the terrible contest of the day began, which became more terrific from
+morning till noon, from noon till night, with deafening rolls of
+musketry, with the roaring of a hundred cannon, with the yelling of the
+Rebels and the cheering of the soldiers of the Union, as the tempest
+surged through the forest, up and down the ravines, around Shiloh
+church, in the old cotton-fields, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span>up to the spring where the country
+people were accustomed to eat their Sunday dinners, down to the
+Tennessee River, where the gunboats were waiting for the hour when they
+could open with their great guns.</p>
+
+<p>Paul was in the storm, riding through the leaden hail which fell all
+around him, pattering upon the dead leaves, cutting down the twigs of
+the hazel-bushes, and scarring the trees,&mdash;riding along the lines
+carrying messages to General Sherman, who was fighting like a tiger by
+the church, with the bullets piercing his clothes,&mdash;to McClernand, who
+was near by,&mdash;to Wallace, to Prentice, to Hurlburt, to Stuart,&mdash;riding
+where shells were bursting, where solid shot cut off great branches from
+the trees, splintered the trunks, ploughed the ground, whirled men and
+horses into the air, tearing them limb from limb, and then passed away
+with weird howlings. He breathed the thick smoke as it belched from the
+cannon's mouth, and felt the hot flashes on his face. He stood beside
+his commander, General Grant, while waiting for orders, and beheld him
+when tidings of disaster were brought in,&mdash;that General Prentice and
+hundreds of his men were captured,&mdash;that <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>the line was broken, and the
+men were falling back. He could hear the triumphant shouts of the
+Rebels.</p>
+
+<p>Yet amid it all he saw that General Grant was cool and collected. "We
+will whip them yet," he said. Paul felt stronger after that, and
+resolved to die rather than be beaten. But how slowly dragged the hours!
+The sun seemed to stand still in the western sky. How hard to see the
+poor wounded men, thousands of them, borne to the rear, their feet
+crushed, their legs broken, their arms torn and mangled, and to know
+that there were other thousands lying upon the ground where they had
+fallen, and the strife still going on around them! Other thousands who
+were not wounded were leaving the ranks, exhausted and disheartened.</p>
+
+<p>"Lieutenant Parker, you will select a line along this ravine, throw up
+such defences as you can, bring up those thirty-two pounders from the
+river, and put them in position. They can't cross this. We will beat
+them here," said General Grant.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes in battle minutes are of priceless value; momentous decisions
+must be made at once. Then men show what they are made of. Those are
+the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span>trial moments of life. Paul galloped along the ravine. He saw that
+it was wide and deep, and that, if the Rebels could be kept from
+crossing it, the battle would be won; for it was their object to reach
+the steamboat-landing, where General Grant had all his supplies of food.
+There were five great iron cannon at the landing. There, also, crouching
+under the river-bank, to avoid the shot and shell, were thousands of
+fugitives, who had become disheartened, and who had left their comrades
+to be overpowered and driven back. He saw the situation of affairs in an
+instant. His brain was clear. He made up his mind instantly what to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Here, you&mdash;men!" he shouted. "Each of you shoulder one of those empty
+pork-barrels, and carry it up the bluff." But not a man stirred. His
+indignation was aroused; but he knew that it was not a time for
+argument. He drew his revolver, pointed it at a group, and said, "Start!
+or I'll shoot you." It was spoken so resolutely that they obeyed. He
+told them how, if they could hold that position, the Rebels would be
+defeated,&mdash;how a few minutes of resolute work would save the army. He
+saw their courage revive. They dug a trench, cut down trees, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span>rolled up
+logs, filled the barrels with dirt, and worked like beavers. Others
+wheeled up the great guns, and Paul put them into position. Others
+brought shot and shell, and laid them in piles beside the guns. The
+storm was coming nearer. The lines were giving way. Regiments with
+broken ranks came straggling down the road.</p>
+
+<p>"Bring all the batteries into position along the ravine," said General
+Grant. Away flew half a dozen officers with the orders, and the
+batteries, one after another, came thundering down the road,&mdash;the horses
+leaping, the artillery-men blackened and begrimed, yet ready for another
+fight.</p>
+
+<p>"Get anybody you can to work the thirty-twos," said Colonel Webster, the
+chief of artillery, to Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I can sight a cannon," said a surgeon, who was dressing wounds in the
+hospital. He laid down his bandages, went up and patted one of the guns,
+as if it were an old friend, ran his eye along the sights, and told the
+gunners what to do.</p>
+
+<p>It was sunset. All day long the battle had raged, and the Union troops
+had been driven. The Rebels were ready for their last grand charge,
+which they hoped would give them the victory. Onward <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span>they came down the
+steep bank opposite, into the ravine. The Union batteries were ready for
+them,&mdash;Captain Silversparre with his twenty-pounders, Captain Richardson
+and Captain Russell with their howitzers, Captain Stone with his
+ten-pounders, Captain Taylor, Captain Dresser, Captain Willard, and
+Lieutenant Edwards,&mdash;sixty or more cannon in all. A gunner was lacking
+for one of the great iron thirty-twos. Paul sprang from his horse, and
+took command of the piece.</p>
+
+<p>The long lines of the Rebels came into view. "Bang! bang! bang! bang!"
+went the guns. Then half a dozen crashed at once,&mdash;the great thirty-twos
+thundering heavier than all the others. Shells, solid shot, and canister
+tore through the ravine, rolling back the Rebel lines, drenching the
+hillsides with blood, turning the brook to crimson, and the fresh young
+leaves to scarlet. O the wild commotion,&mdash;the jarring of the earth, the
+deep reverberations rolling far away, and the shouts of the cannoneers!</p>
+
+<p>"Give them canister!" shouted Paul to the cannoneers, and the terrible
+missiles went screaming down the ravine. The bullets were falling
+around <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>him, singing in his ears, but he heeded them not. But O how
+painful it was to see a brother officer torn to pieces by his side! Then
+how glorious to behold, through the rifts in the battle-cloud, that the
+Rebels were flying in confusion through the woods. Then there came a
+cheer. General Nelson had arrived with reinforcements, and Buell's whole
+army was near. The thirty-two-pounders, the howitzers, and the batteries
+had saved the day, and the victory was won. And now, as night came on,
+the gunboats joined, throwing eleven-inch shells into the woods among
+the Rebel troops, which added discomfiture to defeat. And when the
+uproar, the noise, and the confusion had died away, how good to thank
+God for the victory, and for the preservation of his life! How
+gratifying to receive the thanks of his commander on the field,&mdash;to be
+mentioned as one who had done his duty faithfully, and who was deserving
+of promotion!</p>
+
+<p>After the battle he was made a captain, and had greater responsibilities
+resting upon him. He was called upon to take long rides, with the
+cavalry, on expeditions into the enemy's country. Sometimes he found
+himself alone in the dark woods of Mississippi, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>threading the narrow
+paths, swimming rivers, wading creeks, plunging into swamps,&mdash;at other
+times, with his comrades, sweeping like a whirlwind through the Southern
+towns, in pursuit of the retreating foe, riding day and night, often
+without food, but occasionally having a nice supper of roast chicken
+cooked by the bivouac-fire in the forest. Sometimes he spread his
+blanket beneath the grand old trees, and had a rest for the night; and
+often, when pursued by the enemy, when there was no time to stop and
+rest, he slept in his saddle, and dreamed of home. So he spent the
+months which followed that terrible battle, obtaining information which
+was of inestimable value. Thus he served his country,&mdash;at Corinth, at
+Memphis, and at Vicksburg, where, through the long, hot, weary, sickly
+months, the brave soldiers toiled, building roads, cutting trenches,
+digging ditches, excavating canals, clearing forests, erecting
+batteries, working in mud and water, fighting on the Yazoo, and at last,
+under their great leader, sweeping down the west side of the
+Mississippi, crossing the river, defeating the enemy in all the battles
+which followed, then closing in upon the town and capturing it, after
+months of hardship <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>and suffering. How hard this work! how laborious,
+and wearing, and dangerous!</p>
+
+<p>Paul found little time to rest. It was his duty to lay out the work for
+the soldiers, to say where the breastworks should be thrown up, where
+the guns should be placed in position. In the dark nights he went out
+beyond the picket-lines and examined the hills and ravines, while the
+bullets of the Rebel sharpshooters were flying about his ears, and in
+the daytime he was riding along the lines while the great guns were
+bellowing, to see if they were in the best position, and were doing
+their proper work. At length there came a morning when the Rebels raised
+a white flag, and Vicksburg surrendered. It was the glorious reward for
+all their hardship, toil, suffering, and endurance. How proudly the
+soldiers marched into the city, with drums beating, bands playing, and
+all their banners waving! It was the Fourth of July, the most joyful day
+of all the year. There were glad hearts all over the land,&mdash;ringing of
+bells and firing of cannon, songs of praise and thanksgivings; for not
+only at Vicksburg, but at Gettysburg, the soldiers of the Union had won
+a great victory.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<h2>HONOR TO THE BRAVE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Paul's mother lived alone, and yet she was not without company; for the
+bees and the humming-birds buzzing among the flowers, the old clock
+ticking steadily, the cat purring in the sunshine, were her constant
+friends through the long summer days. And every morning Azalia came in
+and read the news. Pleasant the sound of her approaching step! Ever
+welcome her appearance! Winsome her smile! How beautiful upon her cheek
+the deepening bloom of a guileless heart!</p>
+
+<p>"Good news!" she exclaimed one morning, as she entered, with glowing
+countenance and sparkling eyes, tossing aside her hat.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Parker asked.</p>
+
+<p>Azalia replied by opening a newspaper, and reading that "Captain Paul
+Parker, who had been acting as major, was promoted to be a colonel for
+meritorious and distinguished services at Vicksburg."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad he has served his country so faithfully," <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>said Mrs Parker,
+pleased and gratified, and proud of her son.</p>
+
+<p>"Who knows but that he may be a general yet?" said Azalia, triumphantly.
+"We are going to have a jubilee this afternoon over the victories," she
+added. She could stop no longer, for she was to take part in the jubilee
+with Daphne, and hastened away to prepare for the occasion.</p>
+
+<p>All New Hope turned out to rejoice over the glorious news. Farmers came
+with their wagons loaded with things for the soldiers,&mdash;bottles of wine,
+jars of jellies and preserves, for there were thousands of wounded in
+the hospitals. Those who could not contribute such things were ready to
+give money, for their hearts were overflowing with gratitude. Old men
+came, leaning on their staves or supported by their children, with the
+fires of youth rekindling in their souls. Mothers were there, for they
+had sons in the service. Paul was not the only soldier who had gone from
+New Hope. A score had enlisted. Old folks, young folks, all the people
+of the place were there, in the old church.</p>
+
+<p>The evening train came thundering along the railroad, stopping long
+enough to leave Paul, who had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span>unexpectedly been ordered to duty in
+Tennessee with General Rosecrans. He was granted a week's leave of
+absence. There was no one at the depot. He wondered at the silence in
+the streets. Houses and stores and shops were all closed. He passed up
+the hill to his old home; but his mother was not there, and the door was
+fast. The cat was lying upon the step, and purred him a welcome. The
+bees were humming over the flower-beds, and the swallows twittered
+merrily upon the roof of the house. The remembrance of his boyhood came
+back, and he was a child again amid the flowers.</p>
+
+<p>He noticed that the people were around the church, and passed on to see
+what had called them together.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, that is Paul Parker, as true as I am alive!" said Mr. Chrome, as
+he approached the church.</p>
+
+<p>The little boys caught it up, and cried, "Paul has come! Paul has come!"
+and looked wonderingly at his blue uniform, and the eagle on his
+shoulders. It was buzzed through the church that he had come. Judge
+Adams, who was on the platform, and who was chairman of the meeting,
+said: "It gives me <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span>great pleasure to announce the arrival of our
+esteemed fellow-citizen, Colonel Parker, who has so nobly distinguished
+himself in the service of our country."</p>
+
+<p>"Three cheers for Colonel Parker!" shouted Mr. Chrome, and the people,
+glad to see him, and brimming over with joy for the victories, sprang to
+their feet and hurrahed and stamped till the windows rattled. Judge
+Adams welcomed him to the platform, and Father Surplice, Colonel Dare,
+and Esquire Capias rose and shook hands with him. Esquire Capias was
+making a speech when Paul entered; but he left off suddenly, saying: "I
+know that you want to hear from Colonel Parker, and it will give me
+greater pleasure to listen to him than to talk myself."</p>
+
+<p>Then there were cries for Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"It is not necessary for me to introduce Colonel Parker on this
+occasion," said Judge Adams. "He is our fellow-citizen; this is his
+home. He has honored himself and us. We have been trying to be eloquent
+over the great victories; but the eloquence of speech is very poor when
+compared with the eloquence of action." Then turning to Paul, he said:
+"What you and your comrades have done, Sir, will be remembered through
+all coming time."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p><p>"We tried to do our duty, and God gave us the victory," said Paul. He
+stood before them taller and stouter than when he went away. He was
+sunburnt; but his countenance was noble and manly, and marked with
+self-reliance. He never had made a speech. He did not know what to say.
+To stand there facing the audience, with his mother, Azalia, Daphne, and
+all his old friends before him, was very embarrassing. It was worse than
+meeting the Rebels in battle. But why should he be afraid? They were all
+his friends, and would respect him if he did the best he could. He would
+not try to be eloquent. He would simply tell them the story of the
+battles; how the soldiers had marched, and toiled, and fought,&mdash;not for
+glory, honor, or fame, but because they were true patriots; how he had
+seen them resign themselves to death as calmly as to a night's repose,
+thinking and talking of friends far away, of father, mother, brothers
+and sisters, their pleasant homes, and the dear old scenes, yet never
+uttering a regret that they had enlisted to save their country.</p>
+
+<p>There were moist eyes when he said that; but when he told them of the
+charge at Fort Donelson,&mdash;how the troops marched through the snow in
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>long, unbroken lines, and with a hurrah went up the hill, over fallen
+trees, and drove the Rebels from their breastworks,&mdash;the men swung their
+hats, and shouted, and the women waved their handkerchiefs, and cheered
+as if crazy with enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>Then Azalia and Daphne sung the Star-spangled Banner, the congregation
+joining in the chorus. Under the excitement of the moment, Judge Adams
+called for contributions for the soldiers, and the old farmers took out
+their pocket-books. Those who had made up their minds to give five
+dollars gave ten, while Mr. Middlekauf, Hans's father, who thought he
+would give twenty-five, put fifty into the hat.</p>
+
+<p>When the meeting was over, Paul stepped down from the platform, threw
+his arms around his mother's neck and kissed her, and heard her whisper,
+"God bless you, Paul." Then the people came to shake hands with him.
+Even Miss Dobb came up, all smiles, shaking her curls, holding out her
+bony hand, and saying, "I am glad to see you, Colonel Parker. You know
+that I was your old teacher. I really feel proud to know that you have
+acquitted yourself so well. I shall claim part of the honor. You must
+come and take tea with me, and tell me all about the battles," she
+said.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p><p>"My leave of absence is short. I shall not have time to make many
+visits; but it will give me great pleasure to call upon those who have
+<i>always</i> been my friends," said Paul, with a look so searching that it
+brought the blood into her faded cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>Hearty the welcome from Azalia and Daphne, and from those who had been
+his scholars, who listened with eager interest to the words which fell
+from his lips. Golden the days and blissful those few hours spent with
+his mother, sitting by her side in the old kitchen; with Daphne and
+Azalia, singing the old songs; with Azalia alone, stealing down the
+shaded walk in the calm moonlight, talking of the changeful past, and
+looking into the dreamy future, the whippoorwills and plovers piping to
+them from the cloverfields, the crickets chirping them a cheerful
+welcome, and the river saluting them with its ceaseless serenade!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+
+<h2>CHICKAMAUGA.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Quick the changes. Paul was once more with the army, amid the mountains
+of Tennessee, marching upon Chattanooga with General Rosecrans, tramping
+over Lookout Mountain, and along the Chickamauga.</p>
+
+<p>Then came a day of disaster in September. A great battle began on
+Saturday morning, lasted through Sunday, and closed on Monday. Paul rode
+courageously where duty called him, through the dark woods, along the
+winding river, where the bullets sang, where the shells burst, where
+hundreds of brave men fell. Terrible the contest. It was like a
+thunder-storm among the mountains,&mdash;like the growling of the angry surf
+upon the shore of the ocean. How trying, after hours of hard fighting,
+to see the lines waver and behold the Rebels move victoriously over the
+field! with disaster setting in, and to know that all that is worth
+living for is trembling in the scale!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span></p><p>There are such moments in battle. General Rosecrans's army was
+outnumbered. Paul saw the Rebels driving in the centre and turning the
+left flank to cut off all retreat to Chattanooga. The moment for great,
+heroic action had come. He felt the blood leap through his veins as it
+never had leaped before. The Rebel line was advancing up the hill. The
+Union batteries were making ready to leave.</p>
+
+<p>"Stay where you are!" he shouted. "Give them canister! Double shot the
+guns! Quick! One minute now is worth a thousand hours."</p>
+
+<p>"Rally! rally! Don't let them have the guns!" he shouted to the flying
+troops. They were magic words. Men who had started to run came back.
+Those who were about to leave stood in their places, ready to die where
+they were. Five minutes passed; they seemed ages. On&mdash;nearer&mdash;up to the
+muzzles of the guns came the Rebels; then, losing heart, fled down the
+hill, where hundreds of their comrades lay dying and dead. Their efforts
+to break the line had failed. But once more they advanced in stronger
+force, rushing up the hill. Fearful the din and strife, the shouts and
+yells, the clashing of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span>sabres and bayonets, the roar of the cannon, the
+explosion of shells. Paul found himself suddenly falling, then all was
+dark.</p>
+
+<p>When he came to himself the scene had changed. He was lying upon the
+ground. A soldier, wearing a dirty gray jacket, and with long hair, was
+pulling off his boots, saying, "This Yankee has got a pair of boots
+worth having."</p>
+
+<p>"Hold on! what are you up to?" said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"Hullo! blue bellie, ye are alive, are ye? Tho't yer was dead. Reckon
+I'll take yer boots, and yer coat tew."</p>
+
+<p>Paul saw how it was: he was wounded, and left on the field. He was in
+the hands of the Rebels; but hardest to bear was the thought that the
+army had been defeated. He was stiff and sore. The blood was oozing from
+a wound in his side. He was burning up with fever. He asked the Rebels
+who were around him for a drink of water; but, instead of moistening his
+parched lips, one pointed his gun at him and threatened to blow out his
+brains. They stripped off his coat and picked his pockets. Around him
+were hundreds of dead men. The day wore away and the night came on. He
+opened his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span>lips to drink the falling dew, and lay with his face towards
+the stars. He thought of his mother, of home, of Azalia, of the angels
+and God. Many times he had thought how sad it must be to die alone upon
+the battle-field, far from friends; but now he remembered the words of
+Jesus Christ: "I will not leave you comfortless. My peace I give unto
+you." Heaven seemed near, and he felt that the angels were not far away.
+He had tried to do his duty. He believed that, whether living or dying,
+God would take care of him, and of his mother. In his soul there was
+sweet peace and composure; but what was the meaning of the strange
+feeling creeping over him, the numbness of his hands, the fluttering of
+his heart? Was it not the coming on of death? He remembered the prayer
+of his childhood, lisped many a time while kneeling by his mother's
+side, and repeated it once more.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"Now I lay me down to sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I pray the Lord my soul to keep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">If I should die before I wake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I pray the Lord my soul to take."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The stars were fading. His senses reeled. His eyelids closed, and he lay
+pale, cold, and motionless, among the dead.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+
+<h2>HOW HE LIVED IN THE MEMORY OF HIS FRIENDS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Colonel Parker, mortally wounded and left on the field." So read the
+account of the battle in the newspapers,&mdash;which told of the disaster to
+the army,&mdash;how the lines were broken, how the cannon were lost, how Paul
+was shot through the breast, how, had it not been for General Thomas, it
+would have been a day of utter ruin. Father Surplice went up to the
+little old house to break the sad tidings to Paul's mother, for he could
+best give comfort and consolation in time of affliction.</p>
+
+<p>"I have sad news," he said. She saw it in his face, even before he
+spoke, and knew that something terrible had happened. "A great battle
+has been fought, and God has seen fit that your son should die for his
+country."</p>
+
+<p>She made no outcry, but the tears glistened in her eyes. She wiped them
+away, and calmly replied: "I gave him freely to the country and to God.
+I know that he was a dutiful, affectionate son. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span>I am not sorry that I
+let him go." Then with clasped hands she looked upward, through her
+blinding tears, and thanked God that Paul had been faithful, honest,
+true, and good.</p>
+
+<p>The neighbors came in to comfort her, but were surprised to find her so
+calm, and to hear her say, "It is well."</p>
+
+<p>It was a gloomy day in New Hope,&mdash;in the stores and shops, and in the
+school-house, for the children affectionately remembered their old
+teacher. When the sexton tolled the bell, they bowed their heads and
+wept bitter tears. Mr. Chrome laid down his paint-brush and sat with
+folded hands, saying, "I can't work." Colonel Dare dashed a tear from
+his eye, and said, "So slavery takes our noblest and best." He walked
+down to the little old house and said to Mrs. Parker, "You never shall
+want while I have a cent left." Judge Adams came, and with much emotion
+asked, "What can I do for you?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in
+green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters," she replied, so
+calmly that the Judge felt that she was the strong one and he the weak.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p><p>When Azalia heard the news the rose-bloom faded from her cheeks and her
+heart stood still. In imagination she saw Paul lying on the ground, with
+blood flowing from his side, enduring dreadful agony, while waiting the
+coming of death. She could hardly think of him as gone, never to return,
+yet the church-bell was tolling mournfully, gone, gone, gone! She
+clasped her hands upon her heart to keep it from bursting.</p>
+
+<p>"Be comforted, my child. He has gone to a better world than this," said
+her mother, sympathizing in her sorrow.</p>
+
+<p>Daphne came in, and bathed Azalia's burning brow, kissed her tenderly,
+and said, "Don't cry, dear."</p>
+
+<p>Azalia was not weeping,&mdash;there were no tears in her eyes. God had not
+wiped them all away, but the great and sudden affliction was like the
+heat of a fiery furnace. It had dried the fountains. Though her mother
+and Daphne were so kind and tender, they could not take away her
+heart-ache. It was a weary day. She sat by the window and gazed upon the
+wheat-fields, brown and bare, for it was almost October, and the reapers
+had gathered the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span>grain. Beyond the fields was the river, shrunk to a
+narrow bed by the heats of summer. Dead leaves were floating down the
+stream. Like the <i>Miserere</i> which the choir chanted at the funeral of a
+sweet young girl before Paul went to the army, was the murmuring of the
+water. Beyond the river were green meadows and gardens and orchards,
+where dahlias were blooming, and grapes and apples ripening in the
+mellow sunshine. She thought of Paul as having passed over the river,
+and as walking in the vineyard of the Lord. The summer flowers which she
+had planted in her own garden were faded, the stalks were dry, and the
+leaves withered. They never would bloom again. Like them, the brightness
+of her life had passed away.</p>
+
+<p>Night brought no relief. It seemed as if her heart would break, but she
+remembered what Jesus said: "Come unto me and I will give you rest." She
+told Him all her grief, asked Him to help her, inasmuch as He was able
+to bear the sorrows of all the world. So confiding in Him, she
+experienced indescribable peace of mind.</p>
+
+<p>Then in the evening they who walked along the street stopped and
+listened by the gate to hear the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span>music which floated out through the
+open window, bowing their heads, and in silence wiping away their tears.
+It was the music of the "Messiah," which Handel composed. She sung it in
+church one Sunday before Paul went to the army, and Father Surplice said
+it set him to thinking about the music of heaven; but now to the passers
+in the street it was as if Jesus called them, so sweet and tender was
+the song.</p>
+
+<p>It was consoling to take from her bureau the letters which Paul had
+written, and read again what she had read many times,&mdash;to look upon the
+laurel-leaf which he plucked in the woods at Donelson, the
+locust-blossoms which he gathered at Shiloh, the moss-rose which grew in
+a garden at Vicksburg,&mdash;to read his noble and manly words of his
+determination to do his duty in all things.</p>
+
+<p>"Life is worth nothing," read one of the letters, "unless devoted to
+noble ends. I thank God that I live in this age, for there never has
+been so great an opportunity to do good. The heroes of all ages, those
+who have toiled and suffered to make the world better, are looking down
+from the past to see if I am worthy to be of their number. I can see the
+millions <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>yet to come beckoning me to do my duty for their sake. They
+will judge me. What answer can I give them if I falter?"</p>
+
+<p>Thus in her sorrow Azalia found some comfort in looking at the faded
+flowers, and in reflecting that he had not faltered in the hour of
+trial, but had proved himself worthy to be numbered with the heroic
+dead.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
+
+<h2>WHAT BECAME OF A TRAITOR.</h2>
+
+
+<p>But Paul was not dead. He was in the hands of the enemy. He had been
+taken up from the battle-field while unconscious, put into an ambulance,
+and carried with other wounded to a Rebel hospital.</p>
+
+<p>"We can't do anything for this Yankee," said one of the surgeons who
+looked at his wound.</p>
+
+<p>"No, he will pop off right soon, I reckon," said another; and Paul was
+left to live or die, as it might be.</p>
+
+<p>When he awoke from his stupor he found himself in an old barn, lying on
+a pile of straw. He was weak and faint, and suffered excruciating pain.
+The Rebel soldier had stolen his coat, and he had no blanket to protect
+him from the cold night-winds. He was helpless. His flesh was hot, his
+lips were parched. A fever set in, his flesh wasted away, and his eyes
+became wild, glassy, and sunken. Week after week he lay powerless to
+help himself, often <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span>out of his head and talking of home, or imagining
+he was in battle. How long the days! how lonesome the nights! But he had
+a strong constitution, and instead of "popping off," as the surgeon
+predicted, began to get well. Months passed, of pain and agony and weary
+longing. It was sweet relief when he was able to creep out and sit in
+the warm sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>One day a Rebel lieutenant, wearing a gay uniform trimmed with gold
+lace, came past him. Paul saw that he had been drinking liquor, for he
+could not walk straight.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you salute me, you Yankee villain?" said the fellow,
+stopping.</p>
+
+<p>Paul was startled at the voice, looked the lieutenant in the face, and
+saw that it was Philip Funk. His face was bloated, and his eyes
+bloodshot. When he fled from New Hope after robbing Mr. Bond, he made
+his way south, joined the Rebels, and was now a lieutenant. Paul was so
+changed by sickness that Philip did not recognize him.</p>
+
+<p>"Why don't you salute me, you dirty Yankee puppy?" said Philip, with an
+oath.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't salute a traitor and a robber," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p><p>Philip turned pale with anger. "Say that again, and I will cut your
+heart out!" he said, with a horrible oath, raising his sword and
+advancing upon Paul, who stood still and looked him calmly in the eye.</p>
+
+<p>"Cowards only attack unarmed men," said Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, sir, by calling me a robber, traitor, and coward?"
+Philip asked, white with rage, not recognizing Paul.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean that you, Philip Funk, committed robbery at New Hope, ran away
+from home, became a traitor, and now you show yourself to be a coward by
+threatening to cut out the heart of a weak defenceless prisoner."</p>
+
+<p>"Who are you?" stammered Philip.</p>
+
+<p>"My name is Paul Parker. I am a colonel in the service of the United
+States," Paul replied, not recognizing by any familiar act his old
+playmate and school-fellow.</p>
+
+<p>Philip dropped his sword, and stood irresolute and undecided what to do.
+A group of Rebel officers who had been wounded, and were strolling about
+the grounds, saw and heard it all. One was a colonel.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you know about Lieutenant Funk?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p><p>"He was my schoolmate. He committed robbery and came south to join your
+army," Paul replied.</p>
+
+<p>The Colonel turned to the officers who were with him, and said, "This is
+the fellow who is suspected of stealing from the soldiers, and it is
+said that he skulked at Chickamauga."</p>
+
+<p>"The cuss ought to be reduced to the ranks," said another.</p>
+
+<p>Philip did not stop to hear any more, but walked rapidly away.</p>
+
+<p>The next day he was arrested and brought before a court-martial, tried,
+and found guilty of hiding behind a stump when ordered to make a charge
+in battle, and of stealing money from the soldiers. The court ordered
+that he be stripped of his uniform and reduced to the ranks, and wear
+the "rogue's coat" through the camp. The coat was a flour-barrel,
+without heads, but with holes cut in the sides for his arms.</p>
+
+<p>Philip was brought out upon the parade-ground, deprived of his sword and
+uniform, and compelled to put on the barrel, on which were written the
+words,</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Coward</span>, <span class="smcap">Robber</span>.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p><p>Thus, with two soldiers to guard him, with a drummer and fifer playing
+the Rogues' March, he was paraded through the camp. The soldiers hooted
+at him, and asked him all sorts of questions.</p>
+
+<p>"How are you, Bummer?" asked one.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you pay your tailors with the money you stole?" asked another.</p>
+
+<p>"Your coat puckers under the arms and wrinkles in the back," said
+another.</p>
+
+<p>"He felt so big they had to hoop him to keep him from bursting,"
+remarked one, who remembered how pompous Philip had been.</p>
+
+<p>After being marched through the camp, he was set to work with a shovel,
+cleaning up the grounds. It was a sorry day to Philip. He wished he had
+never been born. He was despised alike by officers and soldiers. The
+officers made him do their dirty work, while the soldiers, knowing that
+he had not courage enough to resent an insult, made him the general
+scavenger of the camp. This treatment was so hard to bear that Philip
+thought of deserting; but he knew that if he was caught he would be
+shot, and did not dare to make the attempt. The slaves in the camp
+looked down upon him, and spoke of him <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span>as the "meanest sort of Yankee
+white trash." The soldiers turned him out of their tents. "We won't have
+a Yankee thief and coward in our mess," said they, and he was obliged to
+sleep under the trees, or wherever he could find shelter. He became
+dirty and ragged. His clothes dropped from him piece by piece, till he
+had nothing left but rags. He had little to eat. He had no friends. When
+he was sick, no one cared for him. Those were bitter days; but instead
+of being made better at heart by his punishment, he cursed and swore,
+and wished only that he could get whiskey to drink.</p>
+
+<p>Winter set in. There came a cold, stormy night. Philip wandered about
+the camp to keep himself warm. He was weak and faint, and at last,
+tired, exhausted, and his teeth chattering with ague, crawled into a
+wagon, drew his old tattered blanket over his head, and after shivering
+awhile went to sleep. The teamsters found him there in the morning,
+stiff and cold. He had died during the night, with no friend near him, a
+vagabond, an outcast, despised by everybody.</p>
+
+<p>The officer who had charge of the camp, when he heard that Philip was
+dead, called up a couple of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>soldiers who were in the guard-house for
+getting drunk, and said to them, "You were drunk yesterday, and for a
+punishment I sentence you to bury the camp-scullion who froze to death
+last night."</p>
+
+<p>The teamster harnessed his horses, drove outside of the camp into a
+field, where the two soldiers dug a shallow grave, tumbled the body into
+it, threw back the earth, trampled it down with their feet, shouldered
+their shovels, and went back to camp as unconcerned as if they had
+buried a dog.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
+
+<h2>DARK DAYS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>When Paul's wound had healed sufficiently to enable him to travel, he
+was put into a freight car with his comrades and sent to the Rebel
+prison at Andersonville. The ride was long and hard, but the prisoners
+bore the jolting without a murmur, for they supposed they would soon be
+exchanged and sent North. They were doomed to bitter disappointment.</p>
+
+<p>The prison was a yard enclosed by a high fence. There was a platform on
+the outside where the sentinels stood on guard, and ready to shoot any
+one who approached nearer than what they called "the dead line." The
+prisoners had no shelter from the scorching rays of the sun through the
+long summer days, nor from the sleety rains and freezing nights of
+winter. They dug holes in the ground with their hands, and made the
+cold, damp earth their bed. A slimy brook ran through the grounds, foul
+with filth from the camps of the Rebels. There was a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>marsh in the
+centre of the yard, full of rottenness, where the water stood in green
+and stagnant pools, breeding flies, mosquitos, and vermin, where all the
+ooze and scum and slops of the camp came to the surface, and filled the
+air with horrible smells. They had very little food,&mdash;nothing but a
+half-pint of coarse corn-meal, a little molasses, and a mouthful of
+tainted bacon and salt, during each twenty-four hours. They were herded
+like sheep. The yard was packed with them. There were more than twenty
+thousand in a place designed for half that number.</p>
+
+<p>When Paul and his comrades reached the prison, they were examined by the
+officer in command, a brutal fellow named Wirz, who robbed them of what
+money they had. The gate opened, and they passed in. When Paul beheld
+the scene, his heart sank within him. He had suffered many hardships,
+but this was an experience beyond everything else. He was still weak. He
+needed nourishing food, but he must eat the corn-meal or starve.
+Everywhere he saw only sickening sights,&mdash;pale, woe-begone wretches,
+clothed in filthy rags, covered with vermin. Some were picking up crumbs
+of bread which had been swept out from the bakery. Others were sucking
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span>the bones which had been thrown out from the cook-house. Some sat gazing
+into vacancy, taking no notice of what was going on around
+them,&mdash;dreaming of homes which they never were again to behold. Many
+were stretched upon the ground, too weak to sit up, from whose hearts
+hope had died out, and who were waiting calmly for death to come and
+relieve them from their sufferings. Thousands had died. One hundred died
+on the day Paul entered, and another hundred during the night. All day
+long the bodies lay among the living in the sun. When the dead-cart came
+in, they were thrown into it like logs of wood. It was a horrible
+sight,&mdash;the stony eyes, the sunken cheeks, the matted hair, the ghastly
+countenances, the swaying limbs, as the cart jolted along the uneven
+ground! More than thirteen thousand soldiers starved and murdered by the
+Rebels were thus carried out in the dead-carts.</p>
+
+<p>The keepers of the prison were cruel. Paul saw a poor cripple crawl
+towards the fence and reach his hand over the dead line to get a bone.
+Crack went the rifle of the sentinel, which sent a bullet through the
+prisoner's brain, who tossed up his hands, gave one heart-rending
+outcry, and rolled over&mdash;dead. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>On a dark and stormy night some of the
+prisoners escaped, but ferocious dogs were put upon their track, and
+they were recaptured. The hounds mangled them, and the Rebel officers
+had them tied up and whipped, till death put an end to their sufferings.</p>
+
+<p>It was terrible to hear the coughing of those who were dying of
+consumption,&mdash;to see them crawling from place to place, searching in
+vain to find a shelter from the driving storms,&mdash;to hear the piteous
+cries of those who were racked with pains, or the moans of those who
+gave themselves up to despair. For want of proper food the prisoners
+suffered from scurvy;&mdash;their gums rotted, their teeth fell out, and
+their flesh turned to corruption; they wasted away, and died in horrible
+agony. It was so terrible to hear their dying cries, that Paul put his
+fingers in his ears; but soon he became accustomed to the sights and
+sounds, and looked upon the scenes with indifference. He pitied the
+sufferers, but was powerless to aid them. Soon he found that his own
+spirits began to droop. He roused himself, determined to brave out all
+the horrors of the place. He sang songs and told stories, and got up
+games to keep <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span>his fellow-prisoners in good heart. But notwithstanding
+all his efforts to maintain his cheerfulness and composure, he felt that
+he was growing weaker. Instead of being robust, he became thin and
+spare. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes sunken. There was a fever in
+his bones. Day by day he found himself taking shorter walks. At night,
+when he curled down in his burrow, he felt tired, although he had done
+no work through the day. In the morning he was stiff, and sore, and
+lame, and although the ground was cold and damp, it was easier to lie
+there than to get up. His hair became matted,&mdash;his fingers were long and
+bony. Each day his clothes became more ragged. When he first entered the
+prison, he tried to keep himself clean and free from vermin, but in
+vain. One day he went out to wash his tattered clothes, but the stream
+was so dirty he sat down and waited for it to become clear. He sat hour
+after hour, but it was always the same slimy, sickening stream.</p>
+
+<p>The Rebels took delight in deluding the prisoners with false
+hopes,&mdash;telling them that they were soon to be exchanged and sent home;
+but instead of release, the dead-cart went its daily rounds, bearing
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>its ghastly burden. That was their exchange, and they looked upon the
+shallow trenches as the only home which they would ever reach. Hope died
+out and despair set in. Some prisoners lost their reason, and became
+raving maniacs, while others became only gibbering idiots. Some who
+still retained their reason, who all their lives had believed that the
+Almighty is a God of justice and truth, began to doubt if there be a
+God. Although they had cried and begged for deliverance, there was no
+answer to their prayers. Paul felt that his own faith was wavering; but
+he could not let go of the instructions he had received from his mother.
+In the darkest hour, when he was most sorely tempted to break out into
+cursing, he was comforted and reassured by Uncle Peter, an old
+gray-headed negro, who had been a slave all his life. Peter had been
+whipped, kicked, and cuffed many times by his hard-hearted, wicked
+master, not because he was unfaithful, but because he loved to pray, and
+shout, and sing. Through the long night, sitting by his pitch-knot fire
+in his cabin, Uncle Peter had sung the songs which lifted him in spirit
+almost up to heaven, whither his wife and children had gone, after cruel
+whippings and scourgings by their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span>master. It was so sweet to think of
+her as having passed over the river of Jordan into the blessed land,
+that he could not refrain from shouting:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"O my Mary is sitting on the tree of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To see the Jordan roll;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">O, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll!<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I will march the angel march,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">I will march the angel march.<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">O my soul is rising heavenward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">To see where the Jordan rolls."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>He had given food and shelter to some of the prisoners who escaped from
+the horrible place, and had piloted them through the woods, and for this
+was arrested and thrown into the prison.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Peter took a great liking to Paul, and, when Paul was
+down-hearted, cheered him by saying: "Never you give up. Don't let go of
+de hand of de good Lord. It is mighty hard to bear such treatment, but
+we colored people have borne it all our lives. But 'pears like my heart
+would break when I think of my children sold down Souf." Uncle Peter
+wiped his eyes with his tattered coat-sleeve, and added: "But de Lord is
+coming to judge de earth with righteousness, and den I reckon de Rebs
+will catch it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span></p><p>Uncle Peter dug roots and cooked Paul's food for him, for the Rebels
+would not allow them any wood, although there was a forest near the
+prison. Paul could not keep back the tears when he saw how kind Uncle
+Peter was. He thought that he never should weep again, for he felt that
+the fountains of his heart were drying up. Uncle Peter sat by him
+through the long days, fanning him with his old tattered straw hat,
+brushing the flies from his face, moistening his lips with water, and
+bathing his brow. He was as black as charcoal, and had a great nose and
+thick lips,&mdash;but notwithstanding all that Paul loved him.</p>
+
+<p>Thus the days and weeks and months went by, Uncle Peter keeping the
+breath of life in Paul's body, while thousands of his comrades died.
+There was no change in prison affairs for the better. There was no hope
+of release, no prospect of deliverance,&mdash;no words from home, no cheering
+news, no intelligence, except from other prisoners captured from time to
+time, and sent to the horrible slaughter-pen to become maniacs and
+idiots,&mdash;to be murdered,&mdash;to die of starvation and rottenness,&mdash;to be
+borne out in the dead-cart to the trenches.</p>
+
+<p>Though Paul sometimes was sorely tempted to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span>yield to despondency, there
+were hours when, with clear vision, he looked beyond the horrors of the
+prison to the time when God would balance the scales of justice, and
+permit judgment to be executed, not only upon the fiend Wirz, who had
+charge of the prison, but also upon Jeff Davis and the leaders of the
+rebellion. And though his sufferings were terrible to bear, there was
+not a moment when he was sorry that he had enlisted to save his country.
+So through all the gloom and darkness his patriotism and devotion shone
+like a star which never sets.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
+
+<h2>CONSECRATION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>As the weeks passed by, bringing no intelligence to New Hope that Paul
+was living,&mdash;when there was no longer a doubt of his death,&mdash;Father
+Surplice held a memorial service. It was on Sunday, and all the people
+were at church. Appropriate for the occasion were the words which he
+read from the New Testament of the widow of Nain,&mdash;how, "as Jesus came
+nigh to the city, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his
+mother, and she was a widow; and when the Lord saw her, he had
+compassion on her, and said, 'Weep not!'"</p>
+
+<p>Consoling and comforting were his own words, which sank deep into the
+hearts of the stricken people; and though the good man said, "Weep not!"
+tears dropped from his own eyes, and fell upon the great Bible which lay
+open before him. It was a sad and solemn service. Though the heart of
+the mother was yearning for her son, yet she could say, "The Lord gave,
+and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p><p>Mrs. Parker still lived in the little old cottage. The neighbors were
+very kind, and she wanted for nothing, for Colonel Dare remembered his
+promise. Peaceful was her life. The birds sang cheerful songs; sweet was
+the humming of the bees, fragrant the flowers in the garden, and steady
+the flowing of the river; and as she listened to the waterfall, she
+thought of Paul as standing by the River of Life. How, then, could she
+mourn for him? Yet she missed him. Sometimes she listened as if to hear
+his footsteps coming up the garden walk. Sometimes her eyes filled with
+tears, as her heart went out to the lonely battle-field where she
+thought him lying. O, if she could but behold him again,&mdash;clasp him in
+her arms,&mdash;and once more lay her hand upon his brow, and bless him with
+a mother's tenderest love!</p>
+
+<p>But he was gone, and for him she could work no more. His comrades were
+bearing on the flag, upholding it on bloody fields, fighting as he
+fought, suffering as he suffered, needing help and comfort and cheer
+from those at home. There was work to be done for them; so through the
+days she sat in the old kitchen, knitting and sewing for the soldiers,
+wishing that she had half a dozen hands instead of two, that she might
+help them more.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p><p>There was one who came to aid her every day,&mdash;Azalia, who, in the
+silence and seclusion of her chamber, had looked out upon the yellow
+harvest-fields where the farmers were gathering the first ripe ears of
+seed-corn, and had tried to still the wild commotion in her heart by
+remembering that it was just and right for the Lord of the harvest to
+gather his "choicest grains." Down on the lowlands by the river the
+nurserymen were selecting their fairest trees, and transplanting them in
+their orchards on the pleasant hills beyond the stream. Why, then,
+should she complain if the kind Father had seen fit to do the same?</p>
+
+<p>It was consoling to take from her bureau drawer, where her keepsakes
+were stored, the letters which Paul had written, undo the black ribbon
+which she had tied around the package, and read again and again that
+which she almost knew by heart. What manly words were there: "Life is
+worth nothing unless devoted to noble ends. I can see the millions yet
+to come beckoning me to do my duty for their sake. What answer can I
+give them if I falter?"</p>
+
+<p>So read one of the letters. They were words <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span>which she could not forget.
+They were written from the trenches before Vicksburg, when the prospects
+of the country were dark and gloomy,&mdash;when craven men at home were
+crying, "Peace! Peace! Let us have peace at any price!" forgetting that
+there can be no reconcilement between right and wrong. Paul had
+sacrificed everything&mdash;life itself&mdash;for the sake of those who were to
+come after him,&mdash;for Truth and Justice. She thought of him as asleep
+beneath the sod of the battle-field where he fell,&mdash;of all that was
+mortal lying there, but of his soul as having passed up into heaven,
+perhaps even then beholding her from the celestial sphere. "What answer
+can I give to those who come after me?" The question haunted her through
+the waning days and the lonely nights. What could she do? How listless
+her life! of how little account! How feeble, forceless, and narrow all
+her efforts! What sacrifices had she made? None. She had lived for
+herself alone. Was this all of life? In the silent hours, when all
+around were hushed in slumber, her longing soul, with far-reaching
+sight, looked out upon the coming years, and beheld the opening
+prospect,&mdash;a country saved, a nation redeemed, justice and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span>truth
+triumphant, and Peace, with her white wings, brooding over the land!
+This through sacrifice of blood, of strength, of ease and comfort. To
+withhold the sacrifice was to lose all. To her the coming millions were
+beckoning as they had beckoned to him. With prayers of consecration she
+gave herself to the country,&mdash;to go wherever duty called, to labor, to
+endure hardship, and brave scenes which would wring out her heart's
+blood,&mdash;to face disease and death itself, if need be, to hand down a
+priceless inheritance to the coming ages.</p>
+
+<p>"You will get sick, my child. You have not strength to be a nurse in the
+hospital," said her mother, when Azalia told her that she must go and
+take care of the soldiers.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot spare you, my daughter," said her father, tenderly taking her
+in his arms, and kissing her ruby lips. She was his only child, and he
+loved her dearly. "I don't think it is your duty to go; and how lonesome
+the house would be without my darling!"</p>
+
+<p>And so, knowing that it was her duty to do whatever her parents wished,
+she tried to be content. But the days dragged wearily. She was ever
+thinking <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span>of the soldiers,&mdash;thinking through the days and through the
+nights, till the bright bloom faded from her cheek. Her heart was far
+away. Her life was incomplete,&mdash;she felt that it was running to waste.</p>
+
+<p>Her father saw that his flower was fading. At last he said, "Go, my
+darling, and God be with you."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think that Judge Adams ought to let Azalia go into the
+hospital. It isn't a fit place for girls," said Miss Dobb, when she
+heard that Azalia was to be a nurse. But, giving no heed to Miss Dobb,
+with the blessing of her parents following her, she left her pleasant
+home, gave up all its ease and comfort, to minister to the sick and
+wounded, who had fought to save the country.</p>
+
+<p>She went to Washington, and thence to the hospitals at Annapolis. It was
+hard work to stand all day by the side of the sick, bathing their
+fevered brows, moistening their parched lips, binding up their bleeding
+wounds. It was painful to look upon the quivering flesh, torn and
+mangled by cannon-shot. But she learned to bear it all,&mdash;to stand calmly
+by, waiting upon the surgeon while he ran his sharp knife into the live
+flesh. It was a pleasure to aid him in his work.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p><p>Her step was light upon the floor; soothing and tender the touch of her
+hand. There was no light so sweet and pure as that which beamed from her
+earnest eyes. The sick waited impatiently for her appearance in the
+morning, watched her footsteps through the day, thanked her for all she
+did, and said, "God bless you!" when she bade them good night. Men who
+were in the habit of uttering fearful oaths wept when she talked with
+them about their mothers; she wrote their letters, and read to them the
+words of affection which came from home. She sang the songs they loved
+to hear. It was like wine to the weak. The down-hearted took new
+courage, and those who were well enough to be hobbling about on
+crutches, who were telling stories of the battles, forgot what they were
+saying while listening to her voice. Her presence was noonday, her
+absence night. Once, when through long watching and patient waiting her
+strength gave way, and the fever raged in her own veins, it was touching
+to see their sorrow. The loud-talking spoke in whispers, and walked
+noiselessly along the wards, for fear of increasing the pain which
+racked her aching head; the sick ones, who missed the touch of her
+magic <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>hand, and the sweet music of her voice, and the sunlight of her
+presence, whose fevers were raging because she was absent, when the
+physician went his rounds in the morning, at noon, and at night,
+inquired not about themselves, but her. When the fever passed,&mdash;when she
+was well enough to walk through the wards, and hold for a moment the
+hands which were stretched out on every side,&mdash;it was as if her very
+presence had power to heal.</p>
+
+<p>How blessed her work!&mdash;to give life and strength; to soothe pain, change
+sorrow to joy; to sit beside the dying, and talk of the Lamb of God that
+taketh away the sin of the world; to wipe the dampness of death from
+their brows, listen to their last words, and, when the spirit had flown,
+to close the sightless eyes, and cut from the pale brow a lock of hair
+for a fond mother far away, thinking ever of her dying boy.</p>
+
+<p>So the months went by,&mdash;autumn to winter, winter to spring, and spring
+to summer.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
+
+<h2>UNDER THE OLD FLAG.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There was no change at Andersonville, but in the loathsome prison it was
+ever the same terrible scene of starvation, corruption, disease,
+despair, and death. Every morning those who had died during the night
+were collected by the prisoners and laid in rows by the prison gate,
+where, during the day, they were piled upon the dead-cart and borne out
+to the trenches. There was no hope of relief for the living, and each
+prisoner looked forward with indifference to his inevitable fate. Above
+them floated the Rebel flag. They were kept there beneath its folds by
+Jefferson Davis and General Lee, till thirteen thousand had been starved
+and murdered.</p>
+
+<p>Paul knew that, notwithstanding Uncle Peter's constant care and nursing,
+he was growing weaker; but he had learned to look death calmly in the
+face, and so was undisturbed by the prospect. He knew that God, who
+takes care of the sparrows, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>would not forget his mother, and he felt
+that Azalia would sometimes shed a tear when she thought of him.</p>
+
+<p>But one morning there was an unusual stir among the prisoners. "You are
+to be exchanged and sent home," said the Rebel officers. They had been
+told the same thing so many times, and had been always so cruelly
+deceived, that they did not believe the statement till orders were
+issued for a portion of them to be ready to march to the cars at an
+appointed hour. Paul was among those who were ordered away. All were
+ready in an instant, for they had no baggage to pack up, no knapsacks,
+no equipments, no overcoats,&mdash;nothing but the rags upon their bodies.</p>
+
+<p>Those who were so weak that they could scarcely creep from place to
+place rose and stood upon their feet when told that they were to go
+home. Paul felt a fresh wave of life sweep over him, thrilling every
+fibre of his wasted frame. Hope revived. Home! O the blissful thought!
+He rose weak and trembling from his bed on the cold, damp ground,
+wrapped his rags about him, and, leaning on a cane, supported by Uncle
+Peter, hobbled out and took his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span>place in the long line of skeletons,
+and waited with eager eyes to see the gate turn upon its rusty hinges.</p>
+
+<p>It was hard to part with Uncle Peter, who had been so kind to him. "God
+bless you and reward you for all your kindness to me," said Paul,
+bidding him good by, and shaking hands for the last time.</p>
+
+<p>"I'se sorry to part with ye, Kurnel, but I bless de Lord you is gwine.
+We'll meet again one of dese days, whar de Rebs won't trouble us, and
+whar we will be free foreber," said the old negro, looking up into
+heaven. He could not go. He was a slave. There was no freedom for him
+till the rebellion was crushed, or till the grave opened.</p>
+
+<p>The gates turned on their hinges, and the regiment of skeletons in rags
+took up its march. Such a procession never before was seen on earth. A
+thousand emaciated forms, tottering, reeling, hobbling on canes and
+crutches, wending their way to the cars,&mdash;not to luxurious cushioned
+seats, but to hard, jolting cattle-cars,&mdash;for a long ride of hundreds of
+miles before reaching the sea-coast. But hope inspired them. They were
+breathing fresh air, and were gazing on smiling fields, waving with
+grain. They were on their way home. The birds cheered <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span>them, singing of
+home. "Going home, going home!" said the car-wheels, as they passed from
+rail to rail. In joy and gladness they sang:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"I'm going home, I'm going home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">To die no more, to die no more."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>It was as if they had left behind them forever all sorrow and suffering,
+and that for them there could be no more distress, or pain, or anguish.
+It was a long, weary, dusty ride. Some died on the way, but hope kept
+most of them alive.</p>
+
+<p>They reached the city of Charleston, passed from the cars to a
+steamboat, which was to take them down the harbor to the place of
+exchange. The waters danced joyfully around them, as if greeting them
+with gladness. The breezes came in from the dark blue ocean and fanned
+their wasted cheeks. The waves, like a loving mother, gently rocked them
+and sung a soothing lullaby. But O what joy to behold once more the dear
+old flag! How serenely and lovingly it floated in the breeze! They
+saluted it with cheers,&mdash;shed tears of gratitude,&mdash;clasped each other by
+the hand,&mdash;rushed into each other's arms. Those who were able to stand
+danced <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span>in a delirium of joy! Paul was too weak to sit up. He could only
+lie upon the deck, and gaze upon the flag till his eyes filled with
+tears, and say: "Thank God, I have seen it once more!" Beneath that flag
+there was joy, peace, comfort, food, clothing, and freedom. Hospital
+nurses were there with blankets, and great kettles filled with soup and
+coffee. For the wounded there were bandages; for the sick there were
+cordials, wines, and medicines. There were tender-hearted men, ready to
+relieve all their sufferings. It was like passing from the prison of
+despair into a paradise of peace and rest, and in joy and gladness they
+began to sing,</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i3">"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The strong men on board of the ship, the nurses, and the stout-hearted
+sailors wept like children, and spoke hard words against the Rebels when
+they looked upon the haggard countenances, the hollow cheeks, the sunken
+eyes, of the skeleton forms around them.</p>
+
+<p>Although Paul was so weak that he could hardly lift his hands to his
+head, although his comrades were passing away, although every day he saw
+their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>bodies, wrapped in hammocks and weighted with shot, cast into the
+sea, yet he never experienced such bliss, such contentment, as while
+lying on the deck through the long summer day, looking up to the old
+flag, and the clear sky, and out upon the calm and peaceful sea,
+thinking of the sea of glass and the great white throne, and the
+calmness, sereneness, and rest of heaven. And at night, when lulled to
+sleep by the rippling waves, how enchanting his dreams of home, of his
+mother, of the scenes of other days,&mdash;the old house, the swallows
+twittering around its eaves, the roses blooming beneath the window, the
+night-wind sweeping down the valley, the church-bell ringing the evening
+hour, its deep tolling when the funeral train passed on to the cemetery
+in the shady grove,&mdash;his friends welcoming him home once more, Azalia
+among them, queen of the hour, peerless in beauty, with rose bloom on
+her cheek,&mdash;of Mr. Chrome, Judge Adams, and Colonel Dare, all saying,
+"We are glad to see you,"&mdash;dreaming, and waking, to find it only a
+dream.</p>
+
+<p>But the ship was bearing him on. The distance was lessening. One more
+day, and the voyage would be at an end, the ship in port. O, if he could
+but <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span>see his mother once more,&mdash;feel her hand upon his brow, her kiss
+upon his lip,&mdash;then he could die content! A desire for life set in. Hope
+revived. He would fight death as he had fought the Rebels, and, God
+willing, he would win the victory.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
+
+<h2>THE JAWS OF DEATH.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The hospital steamer, with its freight of living skeletons, had
+accomplished its voyage in safety, and lay moored at the wharf in
+Annapolis. Nurses and sailors were carrying the emaciated forms from the
+ship to the shore, to the clean and tidy wards of the hospital.</p>
+
+<p>It was a sight which wrung tears from the eyes of those who did not
+often weep. The ship was a charnel-house. Death in its most horrible
+forms was there,&mdash;from starvation, from corruption, scurvy, lock-jaw,
+gangrene, consumption, and fever. How ghastly the scene! Men, once
+robust and strong, weak and helpless as babes, with hollow cheeks,
+toothless gums, thin pale lips, colorless flesh, sunken eyes, long,
+tangled hair, uncombed for many months, skeleton fingers with nails like
+eagles' claws, lying in rags upon the deck,&mdash;some, with strained eyes,
+looking up for the last time to the dear old flag which waved above
+them, for which they had fought, for which they had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span>starved, for which
+they were dying, gazing in rapture on its blessed folds, till their eyes
+were fixed in death, and the slowly-heaving heart stood still forever!
+They, and all their comrades, sleeping on a hundred battle-fields, and
+mouldering in the trenches at Andersonville, were the victims of
+Jefferson Davis and General Lee, whose names shall rot through all
+coming time.</p>
+
+<p>There was work for the gentle-hearted nurses who stood waiting in the
+hospital wards,&mdash;work which required tenderest care;&mdash;removing the rags,
+washing the fevered skeletons, bathing the bleeding wounds where the
+sharp bones had pierced the skin; feeding them,&mdash;a crumb at a time;
+administering cordials drop by drop, to bring back with delicate nursing
+the receding tides of life.</p>
+
+<p>With a bleeding heart, but yet with steady nerves, Azalia passed among
+them, doing her appointed work. There was one who was lying as if
+asleep, with his hands clasped upon his breast. His beard had been long
+uncut. His cheeks were wasted, his eyes sunken, but he had a manly brow.
+A strange fear and trembling crept over her,&mdash;a shuddering of the heart.
+Alarmed and frightened at she knew <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span>not what, she brushed back the
+matted hair from his temples, and laid her hand upon his brow, cold and
+damp with the dews of death. The soldier opened his eyes, looked into
+her face, stared wildly around him, and tried to speak. It was but one
+word, and that a whisper,&mdash;her own name, "Azalia!"</p>
+
+<p>A cry rang through the ward, startling the physicians and the nurses,
+and waking those who were asleep. She clasped him in her arms, fell upon
+his face, and kissed his wasted lips. "O Paul! Can it be that you are
+here?" she said.</p>
+
+<p>The throbbing of her heart was like the fluttering of a frightened bird.
+Sweet, calm, and beautiful as the setting sun was the smile upon his
+face, and in his eyes the celestial light of Peace! They closed, and he
+lay again as if in slumber.</p>
+
+<p>"They told me that you were dead," she said.</p>
+
+<p>There was no reply; she laid her hand upon his heart, but could feel no
+beating there; touched her fingers to his fleshless wrist, but could
+find no throbbing of the pulse. The thin blood was receding from his
+colorless lips,&mdash;the tide was going out. "Doctor! Doctor! O come quick!
+Save him!" she cried.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p><p>The doctor came and gazed upon the face of Paul. "He is not quite gone,"
+he said, then moistened his lips with brandy. There was a quickening of
+the pulse. "If he rallies from this, we may save him," he said.</p>
+
+<p>They wrapped him in warm flannels, rubbed his fleshless limbs, and gave
+him cordials, drop by drop. How long the hours,&mdash;the weary hours of hope
+and fear,&mdash;of expectation and distress,&mdash;while the faltering spirit, as
+if tired of earth, was but fluttering awhile along the shore of Time
+before taking its returnless flight over the dark and silent river to
+another land! Through the night Azalia sat by his side, watching him
+with sleepless eyes, fanning his pale brow. The morning sun beamed upon
+her still sitting there. Those who were accustomed to watch for her
+appearance in the early morning, restless with fever, beheld her as
+clothed with celestial brightness, and said one to another, "There sits
+our Angel of Light!"</p>
+
+<p>Through the day she was there, watching the slow heavings of his heart,
+holding her breath while listening to assure herself that he was still
+breathing; hoping and fearing, holding her hands at times upon her own
+heart to still its wild, tumultuous beating,&mdash;giving <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span>him atom by atom
+the needful nourishment,&mdash;bending over him to smooth his
+pillow,&mdash;opening the casement for the winds to blow upon his bloodless
+cheek,&mdash;thus snatching him from the very jaws of death and winning him
+back to life!</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
+
+<h2>HOME.</h2>
+
+
+<p>A despatch came clicking into the telegraph office in New Hope that Paul
+Parker was alive,&mdash;that he had been a prisoner at Andersonville, was
+very feeble, but in a fair way to get well, and would soon be at home.
+It was from Azalia. Mr. Magnet read it in amazement, then ran as fast as
+he could to carry it to the little old cottage. "Good news!" he shouted,
+rushing into the house out of breath, without knocking. "Paul is alive!
+Paul is alive!"</p>
+
+<p>"My son alive!" exclaimed Mrs. Parker, her heart leaping wildly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; there is the despatch."</p>
+
+<p>She read it in fear and trembling, her brain in a whirl. She must fly to
+him! O if she only had wings! Paul alive! The old clock took up the
+word, "Alive,&mdash;alive,&mdash;alive," it said. A robin perched in the great
+maple sang all day, "He is coming home,&mdash;is coming home," while the
+swallows <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span>from their nests under the eaves looked into the old kitchen
+through the open door, twittering together, as if saying, "How glad we
+are!" Never so bright the sunshine as on that morning, nor so fragrant
+the flowers! All nature was glad, and rejoiced in her joy.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Magnet told the news through the village, the people listening in
+wonder. Mr. Chrome threw down his paint-brush, took off his old hat,
+swung it over his head, and gave three cheers. Through the day he kept
+saying to himself, "That beats the Dutch!" The children ran through the
+streets shouting, "Paul is alive! Paul is alive!" Father Surplice, Judge
+Adams, Colonel Dare, and the neighbors&mdash;a dozen at a time&mdash;went down to
+shake hands with Paul's mother, making it such a day of gladness as
+never was known before in New Hope.</p>
+
+<p>Impatiently they waited for the day when Paul would be with them again.</p>
+
+<p>"We will let him know that we have not forgotten him," said Colonel
+Dare; "but it is little that we can do for one who has suffered so
+much."</p>
+
+<p>So also said Judge Adams, and Mr. Capias, and all the people.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p><p>The day came at last. He was on board the train, feeble and weak, but
+Azalia was by his side, supporting his weary head,&mdash;sustaining him when
+his strength was gone. All New Hope was at the depot to receive him,
+looking with eager eyes down the level track to see the approaching
+train when it rounded the distant curve.</p>
+
+<p>"It is coming! There it is!" shouted the boys. They loved him, their
+dear old teacher. The train stopped, and the conductor came out with
+Paul leaning on his arm, Azalia following. The people were going to
+hurrah, but when they saw how poor, pale, and emaciated he was, how thin
+his cheeks, how hollow and sunken his eyes, how languid and weary, how
+little there was left of one who once was so manly, they held their
+breaths, and felt a strange choking in their throats.</p>
+
+<p>Blessed the meeting of mother and son! He had come back from the grave.
+He was even then almost a corpse, but he was alive! She had no words to
+utter; her joy was silent and deep. She could only clasp him in her
+arms, fold him to her heart, and, looking up to heaven, with streaming
+eyes, give silent thanks to God.</p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p>
+<p>The people bowed their heads and stood in silent reverence. Colonel Dare
+came with his carriage. Mr. Chrome took Paul in his arms, and lifted him
+into it as if he was but a child. The people came one after another and
+touched his hands. The children brought flowers and laid them in his
+arms. They all had words of welcome for Azalia. She had saved him. "God
+bless you, darling!" said her father, kissing her cheeks, still round
+and fair, though watching, anxiety, care, and sorrow had robbed them of
+the bright bloom of other days.</p>
+
+<p>"The Lord sent you in the way, as he sent Joseph into Egypt," said
+Father Surplice.</p>
+
+<p>Deep, tender, and hearty the love of friends! Daphne came with choicest
+delicacies. How pleasant to hear her voice! How cheery her laugh! Mr.
+Noggin brought a box of his best honey. Mr. Chrome, who loved to hunt
+and fish, brought quails and pigeons. Even Miss Dobb sent up to know if
+there was not something that she could get for him. The birds came, the
+robins and swallows, singing and twittering and brimming over with joy.</p>
+
+<p>How enchanting the music which came swelling up the valley from the
+water by the mill, from the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span>woods beyond the river, from the crickets
+in the fields, from the church-bell, blending with the night airs, and
+filling his soul with peace! But more blessed than everything else on
+earth was the holy light which beamed upon him from Azalia's eyes, which
+went down deep into his soul.</p>
+
+<p>"You have always been my angel of light and goodness, and nothing but
+death shall part us," he said, as she sat by his side.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad if I have helped you, Paul," she said, laying her soft hand
+upon his brow, and kissing his lips. Pure and true the love which had
+deepened through many years, which had beamed from each other's eyes,
+but which till then had never been spoken. Like a brook gushing from
+springs in distant mountains, so, far back in childhood, had been the
+beginning of their affection, and now it was a river.</p>
+
+<p>Day by day his strength returned, the flesh came again upon his wasted
+limbs, and health bloomed upon his cheeks. Then they walked together in
+the garden, talking of the dear old times, and looking onward to a
+future more golden than the sunniest day of all the past.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINNING HIS WAY***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 22913-h.txt or 22913-h.zip *******</p>
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Winning His Way, by Charles Carleton Coffin
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Winning His Way
+
+
+Author: Charles Carleton Coffin
+
+
+
+Release Date: October 7, 2007  [eBook #22913]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINNING HIS WAY***
+
+
+E-text prepared by D. Alexander, Janet Blenkinship, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from
+digital material generously made available by Internet Archive/American
+Libraries (http://www.archive.org/details/americana)
+
+
+
+Note: Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/winninghisway00coffrich
+
+
+
+
+
+WINNING HIS WAY.
+
+by
+
+CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN,
+
+Author "Story of Liberty," "Boys of '76,"
+"My Days and Nights on the Battlefield,"
+"Our New Way Round the World," "Following the Flag," Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Boston, Mass.:
+Perry Mason & Co.
+1888.
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
+Charles Carleton Coffin,
+In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
+Massachusetts
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+CHAPTER                                             PAGE
+
+    I. FIRST YEARS                                    1
+
+   II. HARD TIMES                                    27
+
+  III. MERRY TIMES                                   42
+
+   IV. MUSIC AND PAINTING                            63
+
+    V. THE NIGHT-HAWKS                               82
+
+   VI. PAUL'S FRIENDS                                91
+
+  VII. IN A TRAP                                    103
+
+ VIII. KEEPING SCHOOL                               116
+
+   IX. RALLYING ROUND THE FLAG                      126
+
+    X. A SOLDIER                                    144
+
+   XI. SCOUTING                                     156
+
+  XII. MISSED FROM HOME                             170
+
+ XIII. THE MARCH                                    175
+
+  XIV. THE BATTLE                                   180
+
+   XV. SHOWING WHAT HE WAS MADE OF                  190
+
+  XVI. HONOR TO THE BRAVE                           200
+
+ XVII. CHICKAMAUGA                                  207
+
+XVIII. HOW HE LIVED IN THE MEMORY OF HIS FRIENDS    211
+
+  XIX. WHAT BECAME OF A TRAITOR                     217
+
+   XX. DARK DAYS                                    224
+
+  XXI. CONSECRATION                                 233
+
+ XXII. UNDER THE OLD FLAG                           241
+
+XXIII. THE JAWS OF DEATH                            248
+
+ XXIV. HOME                                         253
+
+
+
+
+WINNING HIS WAY.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+FIRST YEARS.
+
+
+Many years ago, before railroads were thought of, a company of
+Connecticut farmers, who had heard marvellous stories of the richness of
+the land in the West, sold their farms, packed up their goods, bade
+adieu to their friends, and with their families started for Ohio.
+
+After weeks of travel over dusty roads, they came to a beautiful valley,
+watered by a winding river. The hills around were fair and sunny. There
+were groves of oaks, and maples, and lindens. The air was fragrant with
+honeysuckle and jasmine. There was plenty of game. The swift-footed deer
+browsed the tender grass upon the hills. Squirrels chattered in the
+trees and the ringdoves cooed in the depths of the forest. The place was
+so fertile and fair, so pleasant and peaceful, that the emigrants made
+it their home, and called it New Hope.
+
+They built a mill upon the river. They laid out a wide, level street,
+and a public square, erected a school-house, and then a church. One of
+their number opened a store. Other settlers came, and, as the years
+passed by, the village rang with the shouts of children pouring from the
+school-house for a frolic upon the square. Glorious times they had
+beneath the oaks and maples.
+
+One of the jolliest of the boys was Paul Parker, only son of Widow
+Parker, who lived in a little old house, shaded by a great maple, on the
+outskirts of the village. Her husband died when Paul was in his cradle.
+Paul's grandfather was still living. The people called him "Old
+Pensioner Parker," for he fought at Bunker Hill, and received a pension
+from government. He was hale and hearty, though more than eighty years
+of age.
+
+The pension was the main support of the family. They kept a cow, a pig,
+turkeys, and chickens, and, by selling milk and eggs, which Paul carried
+to their customers, they brought the years round without running in
+debt. Paul's pantaloons had a patch on each knee, but he laughed just
+as loud and whistled just as cheerily for all that.
+
+In summer he went barefoot. He did not have to turn out at every
+mud-puddle, and he could plash into the mill-pond and give the frogs a
+crack over the head without stopping to take off stockings and shoes.
+Paul did not often have a dinner of roast beef, but he had an abundance
+of bean porridge, brown bread, and milk.
+
+"Bean porridge is wholesome food, Paul," said his grandfather. "When I
+was a boy we used to say,--
+
+
+                'Bean porridge hot,
+                 Bean porridge cold,--
+                 Bean porridge best
+                 Nine days old.'
+
+The wood-choppers in winter used to freeze it into cakes and carry it
+into the woods. Many a time I have made a good dinner on a chunk of
+frozen porridge."
+
+The Pensioner remembered what took place in his early years, but he lost
+his reckoning many times a day upon what was going on in the town. He
+loved to tell stories, and Paul was a willing listener. Pleasant
+winter-evenings they had in the old kitchen, the hickory logs blazing
+on the hearth, the tea-kettle singing through its nose, the clock
+ticking soberly, the old Pensioner smoking his pipe in the arm-chair,
+Paul's mother knitting,--Bruno by Paul's side, wagging his tail and
+watching Muff in the opposite corner rolling her great round yellow
+eyes. Bruno was always ready to give Muff battle whenever Paul tipped
+him the wink to pitch in.
+
+The Pensioner's stories were of his boyhood,--how he joined the army,
+and fought the battles of the Revolution. Thus his story ran.
+
+"I was only a little bigger than you are, Paul," he said, "when the
+red-coats began the war at Lexington. I lived in old Connecticut then;
+that was a long time before we came out here. The meeting-house bell
+rung, and the people blew their dinner-horns, till the whole town was
+alarmed. I ran up to the meeting-house and found the militia forming.
+The men had their guns and powder-horns. The women were at work melting
+their pewter porringers into bullets. I wasn't o'd enough to train, but
+I could fire a gun and bring down a squirrel from the top of a tree. I
+wanted to go and help drive the red-coats into the ocean. I asked
+mother if I might. I was afraid that she didn't want me to go. 'Why,
+Paul,' says she, 'you haven't any clothes.' 'Mother,' says I, 'I can
+shoot a red-coat just as well as any of the men can.' Says she, 'Do you
+want to go, Paul?' 'Yes, mother.' 'Then you shall go; I'll fix you out,'
+she said. As I hadn't any coat she took a meal-bag, cut a hole for my
+head in the bottom, and made holes for my arms in the sides, cut off a
+pair of her own stocking-legs, and sewed them on for sleeves, and I was
+rigged. I took the old gun which father carried at Ticonderoga, and the
+powder-horn, and started. There is the gun and the horn, Paul, hanging
+up over the fireplace.
+
+"The red-coats had got back to Boston, but we cooped them up. Our
+company was in Colonel Knowlton's regiment. I carried the flag, which
+said, _Qui transtulit sustinet_. I don't know anything about Latin, but
+those who do say it means that God who hath transported us hither will
+sustain us; and that is true, Paul. He sustained us at Bunker Hill, and
+we should have held it if our powder had not given out. Our regiment was
+by a rail-fence on the northeast side of the hill. Stark, with his New
+Hampshire boys, was by the river. Prescott was in the redoubt on the top
+of the hill. Old Put kept walking up and down the lines. This is the way
+it was, Paul."
+
+The Pensioner laid aside his pipe, bent forward, and traced upon the
+hearth the positions of the troops.
+
+"There is the redoubt; here is the rail-fence; there is where the
+red-coats formed their lines. They came up in front of us here. We
+didn't fire a gun till they got close to us. I'll show you how the fire
+ran down the line."
+
+He took down the horn, pulled out the stopper, held his finger over the
+tip, and made a trail of powder.
+
+"There, Paul, that is by the fence. As the red-coats came up, some of us
+began to be uneasy and wanted to fire; but Old Put kept saying, 'Don't
+fire yet! Wait till you can see the white of their eyes! Aim at their
+belts!'"
+
+While the Pensioner was saying this, he took the tongs and picked a live
+coal from the fire.
+
+"They came up beautifully, Paul,--the tall grenadiers and light-infantry
+in their scarlet coats, and the sun shining on their gun-barrels and
+bayonets. They wer'n't more than ten rods off when a soldier on top of
+the hill couldn't stand it any longer. Pop! went his gun, and the fire
+ran down the hill quicker than scat! just like this!"
+
+He touched the coal to the powder. There was a flash, a puff of smoke
+rising to the ceiling, and filling the room.
+
+"Hooray!" shouted Paul, springing to his feet. Muff went with a jump
+upon the bureau in the corner of the room, her tail as big as Paul's
+arm, and her back up. Bruno was after her in a twinkling, bouncing
+about, barking, and looking round to Paul to see if it was all right.
+
+"There, grandpa, you have made a great smut on the hearth," said Mrs.
+Parker, who kept her house neat and tidy, though it was a crazy old
+affair.
+
+"Well, mother, I thought it would please Paul."
+
+"S-s-s-s-si'c!" Paul made a hiss which Bruno understood, for he went at
+Muff more fiercely. It was glorious to see Muff spit fire, and hear her
+growl low and deep like distant thunder. Paul would not have Muff hurt
+for anything, but he loved to see Bruno show his teeth at her, for she
+was gritty when waked up.
+
+"Be still, Paul, and let Muff alone," said Paul's mother.
+
+"Come, Bruno, she ain't worth minding," said Paul.
+
+"They have got good courage, both of 'em," said the Pensioner; "and
+courage is one half of the battle, and truth and honor is the other
+half. Paul, I want you to remember that. It will be worth more than a
+fortune to you. I don't mean that cats and dogs know much about truth
+and honor, and I have seen some men who didn't know much more about
+those qualities of character than Muff and Bruno; but what I have said,
+Paul, is true for all that. They who win success in life are those who
+love truth, and who follow what is noble and good. No matter how brave a
+man may be, if he hasn't these qualities he won't succeed. He may get
+rich, but that won't amount to much. Success, Paul, is to have an
+unblemished character,--to be true to ourselves, to our country, and to
+God."
+
+He went on with his story, telling how the British troops ran before the
+fire of the Yankees,--how they re-formed and came on a second time, and
+were repulsed again,--how General Clinton went over from Boston with
+reinforcements,--how Charlestown was set on fire,--how the flames leaped
+from house to house, and curled round the spire of the church,--how the
+red-coats advanced a third time beneath the great black clouds of
+smoke,--how the ammunition of the Yankees gave out, and they were
+obliged to retreat,--how General Putnam tried to rally them,--how they
+escaped across Charlestown Neck, where the cannon-balls from the British
+floating batteries raked the ranks! He made it all so plain, that Paul
+wished he had been there.
+
+The story completed, Paul climbed the creaking stairway to his narrow
+chamber, repeated his evening prayer, and scrambled into bed.
+
+"He is a jolly boy," said the Pensioner to Paul's mother, as Paul left
+the room.
+
+"I don't know what will become of him," she replied, "he is so wild and
+thoughtless. He leaves the door open, throws his cap into the corner,
+sets Bruno and Muff to growling, stops to play on his way home from
+school, sings, whistles, shouts, hurrahs, and tears round like all
+possessed."
+
+If she could have looked into Paul's desk at school, she would have
+found whirligigs, tops, pin-boxes, nails, and no end of strings and
+dancing dandy-jims.
+
+"Paul is a rogue," said the Pensioner. "You remember how he got on top
+of the house awhile ago and frightened us out of our wits by shouting
+'Fire! fire!' down the chimney; how we ran out to see about it; how I
+asked him 'Where?' and says he, 'Down there in the fireplace, grandpa.'
+He is a chip of the old block. I used to do just so. But there is one
+good thing about him, he don't do mean tricks. He don't bend up pins and
+put them in the boys' seats, or tuck chestnut-burs into the girls'
+hoods. I never knew him to tell a lie. He will come out all right."
+
+"I hope so," said Mrs. Parker.
+
+Paul could look through the crevices between the shingles, and the
+cracks in the walls, and behold the stars gleaming from the unfathomable
+spaces. He wondered how far they were away. He listened to the wind
+chanting a solemn dirge, filling his soul with longings for he knew not
+what. He thought over his grandfather's stories, and the words he had
+spoken about courage, truth, and honor, till a shingle clattering in the
+wind took up the refrain, and seemed to say, Truth and honor,--truth
+and honor,--truth and honor,--so steadily and pleasantly, that while he
+listened the stars faded from his sight, and he sailed away into
+dream-land.
+
+Paul was twelve years old, stout, hearty, and healthy,--full of life,
+and brimming over with fun. Once he set the village in a roar. The
+people permitted their pigs to run at large. The great maple in front of
+the Pensioner's house was cool and shady,--a delightful place for the
+pigs through the hot summer days.
+
+Mr. Chrome, the carriage-painter, lived across the road. He painted a
+great many wagons for the farmers,--the wheels yellow, the bodies blue,
+green, or red, with scrolls and flowers on the sides. Paul watched him
+by the hour, and sometimes made up his mind to be a carriage-painter
+when he became a man.
+
+"Mr. Chrome," said Paul, "don't you think that those pigs would look
+better if they were painted?"
+
+"Perhaps so."
+
+"I should like to see how they would look painted as you paint your
+wagons."
+
+Mr. Chrome laughed at the ludicrous fancy. He loved fun, and was ready
+to help carry out the freak.
+
+"Well, just try your hand on improving nature," he said.
+
+Paul went to work. Knowing that pigs like to have their backs scratched,
+he had no difficulty in keeping them quiet. To one he gave green legs,
+blue ears, red rings round its eyes, and a red tail. Another had one red
+leg, one blue, one yellow, one green, with red and blue stripes and
+yellow stars on its body. "I will make him a star-spangled pig," Paul
+shouted to Mr. Chrome. Another had a green head, yellow ears, and a red
+body. Bruno watched the proceedings, wagging his tail, looking now at
+Paul and then at the pigs, ready to help on the fun.
+
+"Si'c!--si'c!--si'c!" said Paul. Bruno was upon them with a bound. Away
+they capered, with him at their heels. As soon as they came into the
+sunshine the spirits of turpentine in the paint was like fire to their
+flesh. Faster they ran up the street squealing, with Bruno barking
+behind. Mr. Chrome laughed till the tears ran down his cheeks. All the
+dogs, great and small, joined Bruno in chase of the strange game. People
+came out from the stores, windows were thrown up, and all hands--men,
+women, and children--ran to see what was the matter, laughing and
+shouting, while the pigs and dogs ran round the square.
+
+"Paul Parker did that, I'll bet," said Mr. Leatherby, the shoemaker,
+peeping out from his shop. "It is just like him."
+
+An old white horse, belonging to Mr. Smith, also sought the shade of the
+maple before the Pensioner's house. Bruno barked at him by the hour, but
+the old horse would not move for anything short of a club or stone.
+
+"I'll see if I can't get rid of him," said Paul to himself.
+
+He went into the barn, found a piece of rope, tied up a little bundle of
+hay, got a stick five or six feet long, and some old harness-straps. In
+the evening, when it was so dark that people could not see what he was
+up to, he caught the old horse, laid the stick between his ears and
+strapped it to his neck, and tied the hay to the end of the stick, in
+such a way that it hung a few inches beyond old Whitey's nose. The old
+horse took a step ahead to nibble the hay,--another,--another,--another!
+"Don't you wish you may get it?" said Paul. Tramp,--tramp,--tramp. Old
+Whitey went down the road. Paul heard him go across the bridge by the
+mill, and up the hill the other side of the brook.
+
+"Go it, old fellow!" he shouted, then listened again. It was a calm
+night, and he could just hear old Whitey's feet,--tramp,--tramp,--tramp.
+
+The next morning the good people of Fairview, ten miles from New Hope,
+laughed to see an old white horse, with a bundle of hay a few inches
+beyond his nose, passing through the place.
+
+Mr. Smith, after breakfast, started out to hunt up old Whitey. He often
+found him under the maple in front of the Pensioner's house. Paul was
+swinging on the gate. "Have you seen my horse?" Mr. Smith asked.
+
+"Yes, sir, I saw him going down towards the bridge last evening," Paul
+replied, chuckling to himself.
+
+Mr. Smith went down to the mill and inquired. The miller heard a horse
+go over the bridge. The farmer on the other side heard a horse go up the
+hill. Mr. Smith looked at the tracks. They were old Whitey's, who had a
+broken shoe on his left hind foot. He followed on. "I never knew him to
+go away before," he said to himself, as he walked hour after hour,
+seeing the tracks all the way to Fairview.
+
+"Have you seen a white horse about here?" he asked of one of the
+villagers.
+
+"Yes, sir; there was one here this morning trying to overtake a bundle
+of hay," the man replied, laughing. "There he is now!" he added.
+
+Mr. Smith looked up and saw old Whitey, who had turned about, and was
+reaching forward to get a nibble of the hay. Mr. Smith felt like being
+angry, but the old horse was walking so soberly and earnestly that he
+couldn't help laughing.
+
+"That is some of Paul's doings, I know. I'll give him a blessing when I
+get back."
+
+It was noon before Mr. Smith reached New Hope. Paul and Bruno were
+sitting beneath the maple.
+
+"Where did you find old Whitey?" Paul asked.
+
+"You was the one who did it, you little rascal!"
+
+"Did what?"
+
+"You know what. You have made me walk clear to Fairview. I have a mind
+to horsewhip you."
+
+Paul laughed to think that the old horse had tramped so far, though he
+was sorry that Mr. Smith had been obliged to walk that distance.
+
+"I didn't mean any harm, Mr. Smith; but old Whitey has made our dooryard
+his stamping-place all summer, and I thought I would see if I could get
+rid of him."
+
+"Well, sir, if you do it again I'll trounce you!" said Mr. Smith as he
+rode away, his anger coming up.
+
+"Wouldn't it be better for you to put him in a pasture, Mr. Smith? Then
+he wouldn't trouble us," said Paul, who knew that Mr. Smith had no right
+to let old Whitey run at large. Paul was not easily frightened when he
+had right on his side. The people in the stores and at the tavern had a
+hearty laugh when they heard how old Whitey went to Fairview.
+
+Mr. Cipher taught the village school. He was tall, slim, thin-faced,
+with black eyes deeply set in his head, and a long, hooked nose like an
+eagle's bill. He wore a loose swallow-tailed coat with bright brass
+buttons, and pants which were several inches too short. The Committee
+employed him, not because he was a superior teacher, but they could get
+him for twelve dollars a month, while Mr. Rudiment, who had been through
+college, and who was known to be an excellent instructor, asked
+sixteen.
+
+There was a crowd of roistering boys and rosy-cheeked girls, who made
+the old school-house hum like a beehive. Very pleasant to the passers-by
+was the music of their voices. At recess and at noon they had leap-frog
+and tag. Paul was in a class with Philip Funk, Hans Middlekauf, and
+Michael Murphy. There were other boys and girls of all nationalities.
+Paul's ancestors were from Connecticut, while Philip's father was a
+Virginian. Hans was born in Germany, and Michael in Ireland. Philip's
+father kept a grocery, and sold sugar, molasses, tobacco, and whiskey.
+He was rich, and Philip wore good clothes and calf-skin boots. Paul
+could get his lessons very quick whenever he set about them in earnest,
+but he spent half his time in inventing fly-traps, making whirligigs, or
+drawing pictures on his slate. He had an accurate eye, and could draw
+admirably. Philip could get his lessons also if he chose to apply
+himself, but it was a great deal easier to have some one work out the
+problems in arithmetic than to do them himself.
+
+"Here, Paul, just help me; that is a good fellow," he said, coaxingly.
+
+It was at recess.
+
+"No; Cipher has forbid it. Each one must do his own work," said Paul.
+
+"If you will do it, I will give you a handful of raisins," said Philip,
+who usually had his pockets full of raisins, candy, or nuts.
+
+"It wouldn't be right."
+
+"Come, just do this one; Cipher never will know it."
+
+"No!" Paul said it resolutely.
+
+"You are a mean, sneaking fellow," said Philip.
+
+Philip was a year older than Paul. He had sandy hair, white eyelashes,
+and a freckled face. He carried a watch, and always had money in his
+pocket. Paul, on the other hand, hardly ever had a cent which he could
+call his own. His clothes were worn till they were almost past mending.
+
+"Rag-tag has got a hole in his trousers," said Philip to the other boys.
+
+Paul's face flushed. He wanted to knock Phillip's teeth down his throat.
+He knew that his mother had hard work to clothe him, and felt the insult
+keenly. He went into the school-house, choked his anger down, and tried
+to forget all about it by drawing a picture of the master. It was an
+excellent likeness,--his spindle legs, great feet, short pants, loose
+coat, sunken eyes, hooked nose, thin face, and long bony fingers.
+
+Philip sat behind Paul. Instead of studying his lesson, he was planning
+how to get Paul into trouble. He saw the picture. Now was his time. He
+giggled aloud. Mr. Cipher looked up in astonishment.
+
+"What are you laughing at, Master Funk?"
+
+"At what Paul is doing."
+
+Paul hustled his slate into his desk.
+
+"Let me see what you have here," said Cipher, walking up to Paul, who
+spat on his fingers, and ran his hand into the desk, to rub out the
+drawing; but he felt that it would be better to meet his punishment
+boldly than to have the school think he was a sneak. He laid the slate
+before the master without a line effaced.
+
+"Giving your attention to drawing, are you, Master Paul?" said Cipher.
+His eyes flashed. He knit his brows. The blood rushed to his cheeks.
+There was a popping up of heads all over the school-room to get a sight
+of the picture.
+
+The boys laughed aloud, and there was a tittering among the girls, which
+made Cipher very angry. "Silence!" he roared, and stamped upon the
+floor so savagely that the windows rattled. "Come out here, sir. I'll
+give you a drawing-lesson of another sort." He seized Paul by the
+collar, and threw him into the space in front of his own desk. "Hold out
+your hand."
+
+Paul felt that he was about to receive a tremendous thrashing; but he
+determined that he would not flinch. He held out his right hand, and
+received the blow from a heavy ferule. His hand felt as if he had been
+struck by a piece of hot iron.
+
+"The other, sir."
+
+Whack! it fell, a blow which made the flesh purple. There was an Oh!
+upon his tongue; but he set his teeth together, and bit his lips till
+they bled, and so smothered it. Another blow,--another,--another. They
+were hard to bear; but his teeth were set like a vice. There was a
+twitching of the muscles round his lips; he was pale. When the blows
+fell, he held his breath, but did not snivel.
+
+"I'll see if I can't bring you to your feeling, you good-for-nothing
+scapegrace," said the master, mad with passion, and surprised that Paul
+made no outcry. He gave another round, bringing the ferule down with
+great force. Blood began to ooze from the pores. The last blow spattered
+the drops around the room. Cipher came to his senses. He stopped.
+
+"Are you sorry, sir?"
+
+"I don't know whether I am or not. I didn't mean any harm. I suppose I
+ought not to have drawn it in school; but I didn't do it to make fun. I
+drew you just as you are," said Paul,--his voice trembling a little in
+spite of his efforts to control it.
+
+The master could not deny that it was a perfect likeness. He was
+surprised at Paul's cleverness at drawing, and for the first time in his
+life saw that he cut a ridiculous figure wearing that long, loose,
+swallow-tailed coat, with great, flaming brass buttons, and resolved
+upon the spot that his next coat should be a frock, and that he would
+get a longer pair of pants.
+
+"You may take your seat, sir!" he said, puzzled to know whether to
+punish Paul still more, and compel him to say that he was sorry, or
+whether to accept the explanations, and apologize for whipping him so
+severely.
+
+Paul sat down. His hands ached terribly; but what troubled him most was
+the thought that he had been whipped before the whole school. All the
+girls had witnessed his humiliation. There was one among them,--Azalia
+Adams,--who stood at the head of Paul's class, the best reader and
+speller in school. She had ruby lips, and cheeks like roses; the golden
+sunlight falling upon her chestnut hair crowned her with glory; deep,
+thoughtful, and earnest was the liquid light of her hazel eyes; she was
+as lovely and beautiful as the flower whose name she bore. Paul had
+drawn her picture many times,--sometimes bending over her task,
+sometimes as she sat, unmindful of the hum of voices around her, looking
+far away into a dim and distant dream-land. He never wearied of tracing
+the features of one so fair and good as she. Her laugh was as musical as
+a mountain-brook; and in the church on Sunday, when he heard her voice
+sweetly and melodiously mingling with the choir, he thought of the
+angels,--of her as in heaven and he on earth.
+
+"Run home, sonny, and tell your marm that you got a licking," said
+Philip when school was out.
+
+Paul's face became livid. He would have doubled his fist and given
+Philip a blow in the face, but his palms were like puff-balls. There was
+an ugly feeling inside, but just then a pair of bright hazel eyes,
+almost swimming with tears, looked into his own. "Don't mind it, Paul!"
+said Azalia.
+
+The pain was not half so hard to bear after that. He wanted to say, "I
+thank you," but did not know how. Till then his lips had hardly
+quivered, and he had not shed a tear; now his eyes became moist; one
+great drop rolled down his cheek, but he wiped it off with his
+coat-sleeve, and turned away, for fear that Azalia would think him a
+baby.
+
+On his way home the thought uppermost in his mind was, "What will mother
+say?" Why tell her? Would it not be better to keep the matter to
+himself? But then he remembered that she had said, "Paul, I shall expect
+you to tell me truthfully all that happens to you at school." He loved
+his mother. She was one of the best mothers that ever lived, working for
+him day and night. How could he abuse such confidence as she had given
+him? He would not violate it. He would not be a sneak.
+
+His mother and the Pensioner were sitting before the fire as he entered
+the house. She welcomed him with a smile,--a beautiful smile it was, for
+she was a noble woman, and Paul was her darling, her pride, the light,
+joy, and comfort of her life.
+
+"Well, Paul, how do you get on at school?" his grandfather asked.
+
+"I got a whipping to-day." It was spoken boldly and manfully.
+
+"What! My son got a whipping!" his mother exclaimed.
+
+"Yes, mother."
+
+"I am astonished. Come here, and tell me all about it."
+
+Paul stood by her side and told the story,--how Philip Funk tried to
+bribe him, how he called him names,--how, having got his lessons, he
+made a picture of the master. "Here it is, mother." He took his slate
+from his little green bag. The picture had not been effaced. His mother
+looked at it and laughed, notwithstanding her efforts to keep sober, for
+it was such a perfect likeness. She had an exquisite sense of the
+ludicrous, and Paul was like her. She was surprised to find that he
+could draw so well.
+
+"We will talk about the matter after supper," she said. She had told
+Paul many times, that, if he was justly punished at school, he must
+expect a second punishment at home; but she wanted to think awhile
+before deciding what to do. She was pleased to know that her boy could
+not be bribed to do what his conscience told him he ought not to do, and
+that he was manly and truthful. She would rather follow him to the
+church-yard and lay him in his grave beneath the bending elms, than to
+have him untruthful or wicked.
+
+The evening passed away. Paul sat before the fire, looking steadily into
+the coals. He was sober and thoughtful, wondering what his mother would
+say at last. The clock struck nine. It was his bedtime. He went and
+stood by her side once more. "You are not angry with me, mother, are
+you?"
+
+"No, my son. I do not think that you deserved so severe a punishment. I
+am rejoiced to know that you are truthful, and that you despise a mean
+act. Be always as you have been to-night in telling the truth, and I
+never shall be angry with you."
+
+He threw his arms around her neck, and gave way to tears, such as Cipher
+could not extort by his pounding. She gave him a good-night kiss,--so
+sweet that it seemed to lie upon his lips all through the night.
+
+"God bless you, Paul," said the Pensioner.
+
+Paul climbed the creaking stairs, and knelt with an overflowing heart
+to say his evening prayer. He spoke the words earnestly when he asked
+God to take care of his mother and grandfather. He was very happy. He
+looked out through the crevices in the walls, and saw the stars and the
+moon flooding the landscape with silver light. There was sweet music in
+the air,--the merry melody of the water murmuring by the mill, the
+cheerful chirping of the crickets, and the lullaby of the winds, near at
+hand and far away, putting him in mind of the choirs on earth and the
+choirs in heaven. "Don't mind it, Paul!" were the words they sung, so
+sweetly and tenderly that for many days they rang in his ears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+HARD TIMES.
+
+
+How lonesome the days when dear friends leave us to return no more, whom
+we never shall see again on earth, who will send us no message or letter
+of love from the far distant land whither they have gone! It tries our
+hearts and brings tears to our eyes to lay them in the ground. But shall
+we never, never see them again? Yes, when we have taken the same
+journey, when we have closed our eyes on earth and opened them in
+heaven.
+
+As the months rolled by, the Pensioner's eyes grew dim. He became weak
+and feeble. "The Pensioner won't stand it long," the people said.
+
+He did not rise one morning when breakfast was ready.
+
+"Come, grandpa," said Paul, opening the bedroom door and calling him;
+but there was no reply. He lay as if asleep; but his brow was cold, and
+his heart had stopped beating. He had died calmly and peacefully, and
+was forever at rest.
+
+It was a sad day to Paul when he followed the body of his dear old
+grandfather to the grave; but when he stood by his coffin, and looked
+for the last time upon his grandfather's face, and saw how peaceful it
+was and how pleasant the smile which rested upon it, as if he was
+beholding beautiful scenes,--when Paul remembered how good he was, he
+could not feel it in his soul to say, "Come back, Grandpa"; he would be
+content as it was. But the days were long and dreary, and so were the
+nights. Many the hours which Paul passed lying awake in his bed, looking
+through the crevices of the poor old house, and watching the stars and
+the clouds as they went sailing by. So he was sailing on, and the
+question would come up, Whither? He listened to the water falling over
+the dam by the mill, and to the chirping of the crickets, and the
+sighing of the wind, and the church-bell tolling the hours: they were
+sweet, yet mournful and solemn sounds. Tears stood in his eyes and
+rolled down his cheeks, as he thought that he and his mother were on
+earth, and his father and grandfather were praising God in the heavenly
+choirs. But he resolved to be good, to take care of his mother, and be
+her comfort and joy.
+
+Hard times came on. How to live was the great question; for now that his
+grandfather was gone, they could have the pension no longer. The
+neighbors were very kind. Sometimes Mr. Middlekauf, Hans's father, who
+had a great farm, left a bag of meal for them when he came into the
+village. There was little work for Paul to do in the village; but he
+kept their own garden in good trim,--the onion-bed clear of weeds, and
+the potatoes well hilled. Very pleasant it was to work there, where the
+honey-bees hummed over the beds of sage, and among his mother's flowers,
+and where bumble-bees dusted their yellow jackets in the hollyhocks.
+Swallows also built their nests under the eaves of the house, and made
+the days pleasant with their merry twittering.
+
+The old Pensioner had been a land surveyor. The compass which he used
+was a poor thing; but he had run many lines with it through the grand
+old forest. One day, as Paul was weeding the onions, it occurred to him
+that he might become a surveyor; so he went into the house, took the
+compass from its case, and sat down to study it. He found his
+grandfather's surveying-book, and began to study that. Some parts were
+hard and dry; but having resolved to master it, he was not the boy to
+give up a good resolution. It was not long before he found out how to
+run a line, how to set off angles, and how to ascertain the distance
+across a river or pond without measuring it. He went into the woods, and
+stripped great rolls of birch bark from the trees, carried them home,
+spread them out on the table, and plotted his lines with his dividers
+and ruler. He could not afford paper. He took great pleasure in making a
+sketch of the ground around the house, the garden, the orchard, the
+field, the road, and the river.
+
+The people of New Hope had long been discussing the project of building
+a new road to Fairview, which would cross the pond above the mill. But
+there was no surveyor in the region to tell them how long the bridge
+must be which they would have to build.
+
+"We will send up a kite, and thus get a string across the pond," said
+one of the citizens.
+
+"I can ascertain the distance easier than that," said Paul.
+
+Mr. Pimpleberry, the carpenter, who was to build the bridge, laughed,
+and looked with contempt upon him, Paul thought, because he was barefoot
+and had a patch on each knee.
+
+"Have you ever measured it, Paul?" Judge Adams asked.
+
+"No, sir; but I will do so just to let Mr. Pimpleberry see that I can do
+it."
+
+He ran into the house, brought out the compass, went down to the edge of
+the pond, drove a small stake in the ground, set his compass over it,
+and sighted a small oak-tree upon the other side of the pond. It
+happened that the tree was exactly south from the stake; then he turned
+the sights of his compass so that they pointed exactly east and west.
+Then he took Mr. Pimpleberry's ten-foot pole, and measured out fifty
+feet toward the west, and drove another stake. Then he set his compass
+there, and took another sight at the small oak-tree across the pond. It
+was not south now, but several degrees east of south. Then he turned his
+compass so that the sights would point just the same number of degrees
+to the east of north.
+
+"Now, Mr. Pimpleberry," said Paul, "I want you to stand out there, and
+hold your ten-foot pole just where I tell you, putting yourself in range
+with the stake I drove first and the tree across the pond."
+
+Mr. Pimpleberry did as he was desired.
+
+"Drive a stake where your pole stands," said Paul.
+
+Mr. Pimpleberry did so.
+
+"Now measure the distance from the one you have just driven to my first
+stake, and that will be the distance across the pond," said Paul.
+
+"I don't believe it," said Mr. Pimpleberry.
+
+"Paul is right," said Judge Adams. "I understand the principle. He has
+done it correctly."
+
+The Judge was proud of him. Mr. Pimpleberry and Mr. Funk, and several
+other citizens, were astonished; for they had no idea that Paul could do
+anything of the kind. Notwithstanding Paul had given the true distance,
+he received no thanks from any one; yet he didn't care for that; for he
+had shown Mr. Pimpleberry that he could do it, and that was glory
+enough.
+
+Paul loved fun as well as ever. Rare times he had at school. One windy
+day, a little boy, when he entered the school-room, left the door open.
+"Go back and shut the door," shouted Mr. Cipher, who was very irritable
+that morning. Another boy entered, and left it open. Mr. Cipher was
+angry, and spoke to the whole school: "Any one who comes in to-day and
+does not shut the door will get a flogging. Now remember!" Being very
+awkward in his manners, inefficient in government, and shallow-brained
+and vain, he commanded very little respect from the scholars.
+
+"Boys, there is a chance for us to have a jolly time with Cipher," said
+Paul at recess.
+
+"What is it?" Hans Middlekauf asked, ready for fun of any sort. The boys
+gathered round, for they knew that Paul was a capital hand in inventing
+games.
+
+"You remember what Cipher said about leaving the door open."
+
+"Well, what of it?" Hans Middlekauf asked.
+
+"Let every one of us show him that we can obey him. When he raps for us
+to go in, I want you all to form in line. I'll lead off, go in and shut
+the door; you follow next, Hans, and be sure and shut the door; you come
+next, Philip; then Michael, and so on,--every one shutting the door. If
+you don't, remember that Cipher has promised to flog you."
+
+The boys saw through the joke, and laughed heartily. "Jingo, that is a
+good one, Paul. Cipher will be as mad as a March hare. I'll make the old
+door rattle," said Hans.
+
+Rap--rap--rap--rap! went the master's ruler upon the window.
+
+"Fall into line, boys," said Paul. They obeyed orders as if he were a
+general. "Now remember, every one of you, to shut the door just as soon
+as you are in. Do it quick, and take your seats. Don't laugh, but be as
+sober as deacons." There was giggling in the ranks. "Silence!" said
+Paul. The boys smoothed their faces. Paul opened the door, stepped in,
+and shut it in an instant,--slam! Hans opened it,--slam! it went, with a
+jar which made the windows rattle. Philip followed,--slam! Michael
+next,--bang! it went, jarring the house.
+
+"Let the door be open," said Cipher; but Michael was in his seat;
+and--bang! again,--slam!--bang!--slam!--bang! it went.
+
+"Let it be open, I say!" he roared, but the boys outside did not hear
+him, and it kept going,--slam!--slam!--slam!--bang!--bang!--bang!--till
+the fiftieth boy was in.
+
+"You started that, sir," Cipher said, addressing Paul, for he had
+discovered that Paul Parker loved fun, and was a leading spirit among
+the boys.
+
+"I obeyed your orders, sir," Paul replied ready to burst into a roar at
+the success of his experiment.
+
+"Did you not tell the boys to slam the door as hard as they could?"
+
+"No, sir. I told them to remember what you had said, and that, if they
+didn't shut the door, they would get a flogging."
+
+"That is just what he said, Master," said Hans Middlekauf, brimming over
+with fun. Cipher could not dispute it. He saw that they had literally
+obeyed his orders, and that he had been outwitted. He did not know what
+to do; and being weak and inefficient, did nothing.
+
+Paul loved hunting and fishing; on Saturday afternoons he made the woods
+ring with the crack of his grandfather's gun, bringing squirrels from
+the tallest trees, and taking quails upon the wing. He was quick to see,
+and swift to take aim. He was cool of nerve, and so steady of aim that
+he rarely missed. It was summer, and he wore no shoes. He walked so
+lightly that he scarcely rustled a leaf. The partridges did not see him
+till he was close upon them, and then, before they could rise from their
+cover flash!--bang!--and they went into his bag.
+
+One day as he was on his return from the woods, with the gun upon his
+shoulder, and the powder-horn at his side, he saw a gathering of people
+in the street. Men, women, and children were out,--the women without
+bonnets. He wondered what was going on. Some women were wringing their
+hands; and all were greatly excited.
+
+"O dear, isn't it dreadful!" "What will become of us?" "The Lord have
+mercy upon us!"--were the expressions which he heard. Then they wrung
+their hands again, and moaned.
+
+"What is up?" he asked of Hans Middlekauf.
+
+"Haven't you heard?"
+
+"No, what is it?"
+
+"Why, there is a big black bull-dog, the biggest that ever was, that has
+run mad. He has bitten ever so many other dogs, and horses, sheep, and
+cattle. He is as big as a bear, and froths at the mouth. He is the
+savagest critter that ever was," said Hans in a breath.
+
+"Why don't somebody kill him?"
+
+"They are afraid of him," said Hans.
+
+"I should think they might kill him," Paul replied.
+
+"I reckon you would run as fast as anybody else, if he should show
+himself round here," said Hans.
+
+"There he is! Run! run! run for your lives!" was the sudden cry.
+
+Paul looked up the street, and saw a very large bull-dog coming upon the
+trot. Never was there such a scampering. People ran into the nearest
+houses, pellmell. One man jumped into his wagon, lashed his horse into a
+run, and went down the street, losing his hat in his flight, while Hans
+Middlekauf went up a tree.
+
+"Run, Paul! Run! he'll bite you!" cried Mr. Leatherby from the window of
+his shoe-shop. People looked out from the windows and repeated the cry,
+a half-dozen at once; but Paul took no notice of them. Those who were
+nearest him heard the click of his gun-lock. The dog came nearer,
+growling, and snarling, his mouth wide open, showing his teeth, his eyes
+glaring, and white froth dripping from his lips. Paul stood alone in the
+street. There was a sudden silence. It was a scene for a painter,--a
+barefoot boy in patched clothes, with an old hat on his head, standing
+calmly before the brute whose bite was death in its most terrible form.
+One thought had taken possession of Paul's mind, that he ought to kill
+the dog.
+
+Nearer, nearer, came the dog; he was not a rod off. Paul had read that
+no animal can withstand the steady gaze of the human eye. He looked the
+dog steadily in the face. He held his breath. Not a nerve trembled. The
+dog stopped, looked at Paul a moment, broke into a louder growl, opened
+his jaws wider, his eyes glaring more wildly, and stepped slowly
+forward. Now or never, Paul thought, was his time. The breach of the gun
+touched his shoulder; his eye ran along the barrel,--bang! the dog
+rolled over with a yelp and a howl, but was up again, growling and
+trying to get at Paul, who in an instant seized his gun by the barrel,
+and brought the breech down upon the dog's skull, giving him blow after
+blow.
+
+"Kill him! kill him!" shouted the people from the windows.
+
+"Give it to him! Mash his head!" cried Hans from the tree.
+
+The dog soon became a mangled and bloody mass of flesh and bones. The
+people came out from their houses.
+
+"That was well done for a boy," said Mr. Funk.
+
+"Or for a man either," said Mr. Chrome, who came up and patted Paul on
+his back.
+
+"I should have thrown my lapstone at him, if I could have got my window
+open," said Mr. Leatherby. Mr. Noggin, the cooper, who had taken refuge
+in Leatherby's shop, afterwards said that Leatherby was frightened half
+to death, and kept saying, "Just as like as not he will make a spring
+and dart right through the window!"
+
+"Nobly, bravely done, Paul," said Judge Adams. "Let me shake hands with
+you, my boy." He and Mrs. Adams and Azalia had seen it all from their
+parlor window.
+
+"O Paul, I was afraid he would bite and kill you, or that your gun would
+miss fire. I trembled all over just like a leaf," said Azalia, still
+pale and trembling. "O, I am so glad you have killed him!" She looked up
+into his face earnestly, and there was such a light in her eyes, that
+Paul was glad he had killed the dog, for her sake.
+
+"Weren't you afraid, Paul?" she asked.
+
+"No. If I had been afraid, I should have missed him, perhaps; I made up
+my mind to kill him, and what was the use of being afraid?"
+
+Many were the praises bestowed upon Paul. "How noble! how heroic!" the
+people said. Hans told the story to all the boys in the village. "Paul
+was just as cool as--cool as--a cucumber," he said, that being the best
+comparison he could think of. The people came and looked at the dog, to
+see how large he was, and how savage, and went away saying, "I am glad
+he is dead, but I don't see how Paul had the courage to face him."
+
+Paul went home and told his mother what had happened. She turned pale
+while listening to the story, and held her breath, and clasped her
+hands; but when he had finished, and when she thought that, if Paul had
+not killed the dog, many might have been bitten, she was glad, and said,
+"You did right, my son. It is our duty to face danger if we can do
+good." A tear glistened in her eye as she kissed him. "God bless you,
+Paul," she said, and smiled upon him through her tears.
+
+All the dogs which had been bitten were killed to prevent them from
+running mad. A hard time of it the dogs of New Hope had, for some which
+had not been bitten did not escape the dog-killers, who went through the
+town knocking them over with clubs.
+
+Although Paul was so cool and courageous in the moment of danger, he
+trembled and felt weak afterwards when he thought of the risk he had
+run. That night when he said his evening prayer, he thanked God for
+having protected him. He dreamed it all over again in the night. He saw
+the dog coming at him with his mouth wide open, the froth dropping from
+his lips, and his eyes glaring. He heard his growl,--only it was not a
+growl, but a branch of the old maple which rubbed against the house when
+the wind blew. That was what set him a-dreaming. In his dream he had no
+gun, so he picked up the first thing he could lay his hands on, and let
+drive at the dog. Smash! there was a great racket, and a jingling of
+glass. Paul was awake in an instant, and found that he had jumped out of
+bed, and was standing in the middle of the floor, and that he had
+knocked over the spinning-wheel, and a lot of old trumpery, and had
+thrown one of his grandfather's old boots through the window.
+
+"What in the world are you up to, Paul?" his mother asked, calling from
+the room below, in alarm.
+
+"Killing the dog a second time, mother," Paul replied, laughing and
+jumping into bed again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+MERRY TIMES.
+
+
+When the long northeast storms set in, and the misty clouds hung over
+the valley, and went hurrying away to the west, brushing the tops of the
+trees; when the rain, hour after hour, and day after day, fell aslant
+upon the roof of the little old house; when the wind swept around the
+eaves, and dashed in wild gusts against the windows, and moaned and
+wailed in the forests,--then it was that Paul sometimes felt his spirits
+droop, for the circumstances of life were all against him. He was poor.
+His dear, kind mother was sick. She had worked day and night to keep
+that terrible wolf from the door, which is always prowling around the
+houses of poor people. But the wolf had come, and was looking in at the
+windows. There was a debt due Mr. Funk for rice, sugar, biscuit, tea,
+and other things which Doctor Arnica said his mother must have. There
+was the doctor's bill. The flour-barrel was getting low, and the
+meal-bag was almost empty. Paul saw the wolf every night as he lay in
+his bed, and he wished he could kill it.
+
+When his mother was taken sick, he left school and became her nurse. It
+was hard for him to lay down his books, for he loved them, but it was
+pleasant to wait upon her. The neighbors were kind. Azalia Adams often
+came tripping in with something nice,--a tumbler of jelly, or a plate of
+toast, which her mother had prepared; and she had such cheerful words,
+and spoke so pleasantly, and moved round the room so softly, putting
+everything in order, that the room was lighter, even on the darkest
+days, for her presence.
+
+When, after weeks of confinement to her bed, Paul's mother was strong
+enough to sit in her easy-chair, Paul went out to fight the wolf. He
+worked for Mr. Middlekauf, in his cornfield. He helped Mr. Chrome paint
+wagons. He surveyed land, and ran lines for the farmers, earning a
+little here and a little there. As fast as he obtained a dollar, it went
+to pay the debts. As the seasons passed away,--spring, summer, and
+autumn,--Paul could see that the wolf howled less fiercely day by day.
+He denied himself everything, except plain food. He was tall, stout,
+hearty, and rugged. The winds gave him health; his hands were hard, but
+his heart was tender. When through with his day's work, though his bones
+ached and his eyes were drowsy, he seldom went to sleep without first
+studying awhile, and closing with a chapter from the Bible, for he
+remembered what his grandfather often said,--that a chapter from the
+Bible was a good thing to sleep on.
+
+The cool and bracing breezes of November, the nourishing food which Paul
+obtained, brought the color once more to his mother's cheeks; and when
+at length she was able to be about the house, they had a jubilee,--a
+glad day of thanksgiving,--for, in addition to this blessing of health,
+Paul had killed the wolf, and the debts were all paid.
+
+As the winter came on, the subject of employing Mr. Rhythm to teach a
+singing-school was discussed. Mr. Quaver, a tall, slim man, with a long,
+red nose, had led the choir for many years. He had a loud voice, and
+twisted his words so badly, that his singing was like the blare of a
+trumpet. On Sundays, after Rev. Mr. Surplice read the hymn, the people
+were accustomed to hear a loud Hawk! from Mr. Quaver, as he tossed his
+tobacco-quid into a spittoon, and an Ahem! from Miss Gamut. She was the
+leading first treble, a small lady with a sharp, shrill voice. Then Mr.
+Fiddleman sounded the key on the bass-viol, do-mi-sol-do, helping the
+trebles and tenors climb the stairs of the scale; then he hopped down
+again, and rounded off with a thundering swell at the bottom, to let
+them know he was safely down, and ready to go ahead. Mr. Quaver led, and
+the choir followed like sheep, all in their own way and fashion.
+
+The people had listened to this style of music till they were tired of
+it. They wanted a change, and decided to engage Mr. Rhythm, a nice young
+man, to teach a singing-school for the young folks. "We have a hundred
+boys and girls here in the village, who ought to learn to sing, so that
+they can sit in the singing-seats, and praise God," said Judge Adams.
+
+But Mr. Quaver opposed the project. "The young folks want a frolic,
+sir," he said; "yes, sir, a frolic, a high time. Rhythm will be teaching
+them newfangled notions. You know, Judge, that I hate flummididdles; I
+go for the good old things, sir. The old tunes which have stood the wear
+and tear of time, and the good old style of singing, sir."
+
+Mr. Quaver did not say all he thought, for he could see that, if the
+singing-school was kept, he would be in danger of losing his position as
+chorister. But, notwithstanding his opposition, Mr. Rhythm was engaged
+to teach the school. Paul determined to attend. He loved music.
+
+"You haven't any coat fit to wear," said his mother. "I have altered
+over your grandfather's pants and vest for you, but I cannot alter his
+coat. You will have to stay at home, I guess."
+
+"I can't do that, mother, for Mr. Rhythm is one of the best teachers
+that ever was, and I don't want to miss the chance. I'll wear grandpa's
+coat just as it is."
+
+"The school will laugh at you."
+
+"Well, let them laugh, I sha'n't stay at home for that. I guess I can
+stand it," said Paul, resolutely.
+
+The evening fixed upon for the school to commence arrived. All the young
+folks in the town were there. Those who lived out of the village,--the
+farmers' sons and daughters,--came in red, yellow, and green wagons. The
+girls wore close-fitting hoods with pink linings, which they called
+"kiss-me-if-ye-dares." Their cheeks were all aglow with the excitement
+of the occasion. When they saw Mr. Rhythm, how pleasant and smiling he
+was,--when they heard his voice, so sweet and melodious,--when they saw
+how spryly he walked, as if he meant to accomplish what he had
+undertaken,--they said to one another, "How different he is from Mr.
+Quaver!"
+
+Paul was late on the first evening; for when he put on his grandfather's
+coat, his mother planned a long while to see if there was not some way
+by which she could make it look better. Once she took the shears and was
+going to cut off the tail, but Paul stopped her. "I don't want it
+curtailed, mother."
+
+"It makes you look like a little old man, Paul; I wouldn't go."
+
+"If I had better clothes, I should wear them, mother; but as I haven't,
+I shall wear these. I hope to earn money enough some time to get a
+better coat; but grandpa wore this, and I am not ashamed to wear what he
+wore," he replied, more resolute than ever. Perhaps, if he could have
+seen how he looked, he would not have been quite so determined, for the
+sleeves hung like bags on his arms, and the tail almost touched the
+floor.
+
+Mr. Rhythm had just rapped the scholars to their seats when Paul
+entered. There was a tittering, a giggle, then a roar of laughter. Mr.
+Rhythm looked round to see what was the matter, and smiled. For a moment
+Paul's courage failed him. It was not so easy to be laughed at as he had
+imagined. He was all but ready to turn about and leave the room. "No I
+won't, I'll face it out," he said to himself, walking deliberately to a
+seat, and looking bravely round, as if asking, "What are you laughing
+at?"
+
+There was something in his manner which instantly won Mr. Rhythm's
+respect, and which made him ashamed of himself for having laughed.
+"Silence! No more laughing," he said; but, notwithstanding the command,
+there was a constant tittering among the girls. Mr. Rhythm began by
+saying, "We will sing Old Hundred. I want you all to sing, whether you
+can sing right or not." He snapped his tuning-fork, and began. The
+school followed, each one singing,--putting in sharps, flats, naturals,
+notes, and rests, just as they pleased. "Very well. Good volume of
+sound. Only I don't think Old Hundred ever was sung so before, or ever
+will be again," said the master, smiling.
+
+Michael Murphy was confident that he sang gloriously, though he never
+varied his tone up or down. He was ciphering in fractions at school, and
+what most puzzled him were the figures set to the bass. He wondered if
+6/4 was a vulgar fraction, and if so, he thought it would be better to
+express it as a mixed number, 1-1/2.
+
+During the evening, Mr. Rhythm, noticing that Michael sang without any
+variation of tone, said, "Now, Master Murphy, please sing _la_ with
+me";--and Michael sang bravely, not frightened in the least.
+
+"Very well. Now please sing it a little higher."
+
+"_La_," sang Michael on the same pitch, but louder.
+
+"Not louder, but higher."
+
+"LA!" responded Michael, still louder, but with the pitch unchanged.
+
+There was tittering among the girls.
+
+"Not so, but thus,"--and Mr. Rhythm gave an example, first low, then
+high. "Now once more."
+
+"LA!" bellowed Michael on the same pitch.
+
+Daphne Dare giggled aloud, and the laughter, like a train of powder,
+ran through the girls' seats over to the boys' side of the house, where
+it exploded in a loud haw! haw! Michael laughed with the others, but he
+did not know what for.
+
+Recess came. "Halloo, Grandpa! How are you, Old Pensioner? Your coat
+puckers under the arms, and there is a wrinkle in the back," said Philip
+Funk to Paul. His sister Fanny pointed her finger at him; and Paul heard
+her whisper to one of the girls, "Did you ever see such a monkey?"
+
+It nettled him, and so, losing his temper, he said to Philip, "Mind your
+business."
+
+"Just hear Grandaddy Parker, the old gentleman in the bob-tailed coat,"
+said Philip.
+
+"You are a puppy," said Paul. But he was vexed with himself for having
+said it. If he had held his tongue, and kept his temper, and braved the
+sneers of Philip in silence, he might have won a victory; for he
+remembered a Sunday-school lesson upon the text, "He that ruleth his
+spirit is greater than he that taketh a city." As it was, he had
+suffered a defeat, and went home that night disgusted with himself.
+
+Pleasant were those singing-school evenings. Under Mr. Rhythm's
+instructions the young people made rapid progress. Then what fine times
+they had at recess, eating nuts, apples, and confectionery, picking out
+the love-rhymes from the sugar-cockles!
+
+
+                "I cannot tell the love
+                 I feel for you, my dove."
+
+was Philip's gift to Azalia. Paul had no money to purchase sweet things
+at the store; his presents were nuts which he had gathered in the
+autumn. In the kindness of his heart he gave a double-handful to
+Philip's sister, Fanny; but she turned up her nose, and let them drop
+upon the floor.
+
+Society in New Hope was mixed. Judge Adams, Colonel Dare, and Mr. Funk
+were rich men. Colonel Dare was said to be worth a hundred thousand
+dollars. No one knew what Mr. Funk was worth; but he had a store, and a
+distillery, which kept smoking day and night and Sunday, without
+cessation, grinding up corn, and distilling it into whiskey. There was
+always a great black smoke rising from the distillery-chimney. The fires
+were always roaring, and the great vats steaming. Colonel Dare made his
+money by buying and selling land, wool, corn, and cattle. Judge Adams
+was an able lawyer, known far and near as honest, upright, and learned.
+He had a large practice; but though the Judge and Colonel were so
+wealthy, and lived in fine houses, they did not feel that they were
+better than their neighbors, so that there was no aristocracy in the
+place, but the rich and the poor were alike respected and esteemed.
+
+The New Year was at hand, and Daphne Dare was to give a party. She was
+Colonel Dare's only child,--a laughing, blue-eyed, sensible girl, who
+attended the village school, and was in the same class with Paul.
+
+"Whom shall I invite to my party, father?" she asked.
+
+"Just whom you please, my dear," said the Colonel.
+
+"I don't know what to do about inviting Paul Parker. Fanny Funk says she
+don't want to associate with a fellow who is so poor that he wears his
+grandfather's old clothes," said Daphne.
+
+"Poverty is not a crime, my daughter. I was poor once,--poor as Paul is.
+Money is not virtue, my dear. It is a good thing to have; but persons
+are not necessarily bad because they are poor, neither are they good
+because they are rich," said the Colonel.
+
+"Should you invite him, father, if you were in my place?"
+
+"I do not wish to say, my child, for I want you to decide the matter
+yourself."
+
+"Azalia says that she would invite him; but Fanny says that if I invite
+him, she shall not come."
+
+"Aha!" The Colonel opened his eyes wide. "Well, my dear, you are not to
+be influenced wholly by what Azalia says, and you are to pay no
+attention to what Fanny threatens. You make the party. You have a
+perfect right to invite whom you please; and if Fanny don't choose to
+come, she has the privilege of staying away. I think, however, that she
+will not be likely to stay at home even if you give Paul an invitation.
+Be guided by your own sense of right, my darling. That is the best
+guide."
+
+"I wish you'd give Paul a coat, father. You can afford to, can't you?"
+
+"Yes; but he can't afford to receive it," Daphne looked at her father in
+amazement. "He can't afford to receive such a gift from me, because it
+is better for him to fight the battle of life without any help from me
+or anybody else at present. A good man offered to help me when I was a
+poor boy; but I thanked him, and said, 'No, sir.' I had made up my mind
+to cut my own way, and I guess Paul has made up his mind to do the same
+thing," said the Colonel.
+
+"I shall invite him. I'll let Fanny know that I have a mind of my own,"
+said Daphne, with determination in her voice.
+
+Her father kissed her, but kept his thoughts to himself. He appeared to
+be pleased, and Daphne thought that he approved her decision.
+
+The day before New Year Paul received a neatly folded note, addressed to
+Mr. Paul Parker. How funny it looked! It was the first time in his life
+that he had seen "Mr." prefixed to his name. He opened it, and read that
+Miss Daphne Dare would receive her friends on New Year's eve at seven
+o'clock. A great many thoughts passed through his mind. How could he go
+and wear his grandfather's coat? At school he was on equal footing with
+all; but to be one of a party in a richly furnished parlor, where
+Philip, Fanny, and Azalia, and other boys and girls whose fathers had
+money, could turn their backs on him and snub him, was very different.
+It was very kind in Daphne to invite him, and ought he not to accept her
+invitation? Would she not think it a slight if he did not go? What
+excuse could he offer if he stayed away? None, except that he had no
+nice clothes. But she knew that, yet she had invited him. She was a
+true-hearted girl, and would not have asked him if she had not wanted
+him. Thus he turned the matter over, and decided to go.
+
+But when the time came, Paul was in no haste to be there. Two or three
+times his heart failed him, while on his way; but looking across the
+square, and seeing Colonel Dare's house all aglow,--lights in the
+parlors and chambers, he pushed on resolutely, determined to be manly,
+notwithstanding his poverty. He reached the house, rang the bell, and
+was welcomed by Daphne in the hall.
+
+"Good evening, Paul. You are very late. I was afraid you were not
+coming. All the others are here," she said, her face beaming with
+happiness, joy, and excitement. She was elegantly dressed, for she was
+her father's pet, and he bought everything for her which he thought
+would make her happy.
+
+"Better late than never, isn't it?" said Paul, not knowing what else to
+say.
+
+Although the party had been assembled nearly an hour, there had been no
+games. The girls were huddled in groups on one side of the room, and the
+boys on the other, all shy, timid, and waiting for somebody to break the
+ice. Azalia was playing the piano, while Philip stood by her side. He
+was dressed in a new suit of broadcloth, and wore an eye-glass. Fanny
+was present, though she had threatened not to attend if Paul was
+invited. She had changed her mind. She thought it would be better to
+attend and make the place too hot for Paul; she would get up such a
+laugh upon him that he would be glad to take his hat and sneak away, and
+never show himself in respectable society again. Philip was in the
+secret, and so were a dozen others who looked up to Philip and Fanny.
+Daphne entered the parlor, followed by Paul. There was a sudden
+tittering, snickering, and laughing. Paul stopped and bowed, then stood
+erect.
+
+"I declare, if there isn't old Grandaddy," said Philip, squinting
+through his eye-glass.
+
+"O my! how funny!" said a girl from Fairview.
+
+"Ridiculous! It is a shame!" said Fanny, turning up her nose.
+
+"Who is he?" the Fairview girl asked.
+
+"A poor fellow who lives on charity,--so poor that he wears his
+grandfather's old clothes. We don't associate with him," was Fanny's
+reply.
+
+Paul heard it. His cheek flushed, but he stood there, determined to
+brave it out. Azalia heard and saw it all. She stopped playing in the
+middle of a measure, rose from her seat with her cheeks all aflame, and
+walked towards Paul, extending her hand and welcoming him. "I am glad
+you have come, Paul. We want you to wake us up. We have been half
+asleep," she said.
+
+The laughter ceased instantly, for Azalia was queen among them.
+Beautiful in form and feature, her chestnut hair falling in luxuriant
+curls upon her shoulders, her dark hazel eyes flashing indignantly, her
+cheeks like blush-roses, every feature of her countenance lighted up by
+the excitement of the moment, her bearing subdued the conspiracy at
+once, hushing the derisive laughter, and compelling respect, not only
+for herself, but for Paul. It required an effort on his part to keep
+back the tears from his eyes, so grateful was he for her kindness.
+
+"Yes, Paul, we want you to be our general, and tell us what to do," said
+Daphne.
+
+"Very well, let us have Copenhagen to begin with," he said.
+
+The ice was broken. Daphne brought in her mother's clothes-line, the
+chairs were taken from the room, and in five minutes the parlor was
+humming like a beehive.
+
+"I don't see what you can find to like in that disagreeable creature,"
+said Philip to Azalia.
+
+"He is a good scholar, and kind to his mother, and you know how
+courageous he was when he killed that terrible dog," was her reply.
+
+"I think he is an impudent puppy. What right has he to thrust himself
+into good company, wearing his grandfather's old clothes?" Philip
+responded, dangling his eye-glass and running his soft hand through his
+hair.
+
+"Paul is poor; but I never have heard anything against his character,"
+said Azalia.
+
+"Poor folks ought to be kept out of good society," said Philip.
+
+"What do you say to that picture?" said Azalia, directing his attention
+towards a magnificent picture of Franklin crowned with laurel by the
+ladies of the court of France, which hung on the wall. "Benjamin
+Franklin was a poor boy, and dipped candles for a living; but he became
+a great man."
+
+"Dipped candles! Why, I never heard of that before," said Philip,
+looking at the engraving through his eye-glass.
+
+"I don't think it is any disgrace to Paul to be poor. I am glad that
+Daphne invited him," said Azalia, so resolutely that Philip remained
+silent. He was shallow-brained and ignorant, and thought it not best to
+hazard an exposure of his ignorance by pursuing the conversation.
+
+After Copenhagen they had Fox and Geese, and Blind-man's-buff. They
+guessed riddles and conundrums, had magic writing, questions and
+answers, and made the parlor, the sitting-room, the spacious halls, and
+the wide stairway ring with their merry laughter. How pleasant the
+hours! Time flew on swiftest wings. They had a nice supper,--sandwiches,
+tongue, ham, cakes, custards, floating-islands, apples, and nuts. After
+supper they had stories, serious and laughable, about ghosts and
+witches, till the clock in the dining-room held up both of its hands and
+pointed to the figure twelve, as if in amazement at their late staying.
+"Twelve o'clock! Why, how short the evening has been!" said they, when
+they found how late it was. They had forgotten all about Paul's coat,
+for he had been the life of the party, suggesting something new when the
+games lagged. He was so gentlemanly, and laughed so heartily and
+pleasantly, and was so wide awake, and managed everything so well, that,
+notwithstanding the conspiracy to put him down, he had won the good will
+of all the party.
+
+During the evening Colonel Dare and Mrs. Dare entered the room. The
+Colonel shook hands with Paul, and said, "I am very happy to see you
+here to-night, Paul." It was spoken so heartily and pleasantly that Paul
+knew the Colonel meant it.
+
+The young gentlemen were to wait upon the young ladies home. Their
+hearts went pit-a-pat. They thought over whom to ask and what to say.
+They walked nervously about the hall, pulling on their gloves, while the
+girls were putting on their cloaks and hoods up stairs. They also were
+in a fever of expectation and excitement, whispering mysteriously, their
+hearts going like trip-hammers.
+
+Daphne stood by the door to bid her guests good night. "I am very glad
+that you came to-night, Paul," she said, pressing his hand in
+gratitude, "I don't know what we should have done without you."
+
+"I have passed a very pleasant evening," he replied.
+
+Azalia came tripping down the stairs. "Shall I see you home, Azalia?"
+Paul asked.
+
+"Miss Adams, shall I have the delightful pleasure of being permitted to
+escort you to your residence?" said Philip, with his most gallant air,
+at the same time pushing by Paul with a contemptuous look.
+
+"Thank you, Philip, but I have an escort," said Azalia, accepting Paul's
+arm.
+
+The night was frosty and cold, though it was clear and pleasant. The
+full moon was high in the heavens, the air was still, and there were no
+sounds to break the peaceful silence, except the water dashing over the
+dam by the mill, the footsteps of the departing guests upon the frozen
+ground, and the echoing of their voices. Now that he was with Azalia
+alone, Paul wanted to tell her how grateful he was for all she had done
+for him; but he could only say, "I thank you, Azalia, for your kindness
+to me to-night."
+
+"O, don't mention it, Paul; I am glad if I have helped you. Good
+night."
+
+How light-hearted he was! He went home, and climbed the creaking
+stairway, to his chamber. The moon looked in upon him, and smiled. He
+could not sleep, so happy was he. How sweet those parting words! The
+water babbled them to the rocks, and beyond the river in the grand old
+forest, where the breezes were blowing, there was a pleasant murmuring
+of voices, as if the elms and oaks were having a party, and all were
+saying, "We are glad if we have helped you."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+MUSIC AND PAINTING.
+
+
+Philip went home alone from the party, out of sorts with himself, angry
+with Azalia, and boiling over with wrath toward Paul. He set his teeth
+together, and clenched his fist. He would like to blacken Paul's eyes
+and flatten his nose. The words of Azalia--"I know nothing against
+Paul's character"--rang in his ears and vexed him. He thought upon them
+till his steps, falling upon the frozen ground, seemed to say,
+"Character!--character!--character!" as if Paul had something which he
+had not.
+
+"So because he has character, and I haven't, you give me the mitten, do
+you, Miss Azalia?" he said, as if he was addressing Azalia.
+
+He knew that Paul had a good name. He was the best singer in the
+singing-school, and Mr. Rhythm often called upon him to sing in a duet
+with Azalia or Daphne. Sometimes he sang a solo so well, that the
+spectators whispered to one another, that, if Paul went on as he had
+begun, he would be ahead of Mr. Rhythm.
+
+Philip had left the singing-school. It was dull music to him to sit
+through the evening, and say "Down, left, right, up," and be drilled,
+hour after hour. It was vastly more agreeable to lounge in the bar-room
+of the tavern, with a half-dozen good fellows, smoking cigars, playing
+cards, taking a drink of whiskey, and, when it was time for the
+singing-school to break up, go home with the girls, then return to the
+tavern and carouse till midnight or later. To be cut out by Paul in his
+attentions to Azalia was intolerable.
+
+"Character!--character!--character!" said his boots all the while as he
+walked. He stopped short, and ground his heels into the frozen earth. He
+was in front of Miss Dobb's house.
+
+Miss Dobb was a middle-aged lady, who wore spectacles, had a sharp nose,
+a peaked chin, a pinched-up mouth, thin cheeks, and long, bony fingers.
+She kept the village school when Paul and Philip were small boys, and
+Paul used to think that she wanted to pick him to pieces, her fingers
+were so long and bony. She knew pretty much all that was going on in
+the village, for she visited somewhere every afternoon to find out what
+had happened. Captain Binnacle called her the Daily Advertiser.
+
+"You are the cause of my being jilted, you tattling old maid; you have
+told that I was a good-for-nothing scapegrace, and I'll pay you for it,"
+said Philip, shaking his fist at the house; and walked on again,
+meditating how to do it, his boots at each successive step saying,
+"Character! character!"
+
+He went home and tossed all night in his bed, not getting a wink of
+sleep, planning how to pay Miss Dobb, and upset Paul.
+
+The next night Philip went to bed earlier than usual, saying, with a
+yawn, as he took the light to go up stairs, "How sleepy I am!" But,
+instead of going to sleep, he never was more wide awake. He lay till all
+in the house were asleep, till he heard the clock strike twelve, then
+arose, went down stairs softly, carrying his boots, and, when outside
+the door, put them on. He looked round to see if there was any one
+astir; but the village was still,--there was not a light to be seen. He
+went to Mr. Chrome's shop, stopped, and looked round once more; but,
+seeing no one, raised a window and entered. The moon streamed through
+the windows, and fell upon the floor, making the shop so light that he
+had no difficulty in finding Mr. Chrome's paint buckets and brushes.
+Then, with a bucket in his hand, he climbed out, closed the window, and
+went to Miss Dobb's. He approached softly, listening and looking to see
+if any one was about; but there were no footsteps except his own. He
+painted great letters on the side of the house, chuckling as he thought
+of what would happen in the morning.
+
+"There, Miss Vinegar, you old liar, I won't charge anything for that
+sign," he said, when he had finished. He left the bucket on the step,
+and went home, chuckling all the way.
+
+In the morning Miss Dobb saw a crowd of people in front of her house,
+looking towards it and laughing. Mr. Leatherby had come out from his
+shop; Mr. Noggin, the cooper, was there, smoking his pipe; also, Mrs.
+Shelbarke, who lived across the street. Philip was there. "That is a
+'cute trick, I vow," said he. Everybody was on a broad grin.
+
+"What in the world is going on, I should like to know!" said Miss Dobb,
+greatly wondering. "There must be something funny. Why, they are
+looking at my house, as true as I am alive!"
+
+Miss Dobb was not a woman to be kept in the dark about anything a great
+while. She stepped to the front door, opened it, and with her
+pleasantest smile and softest tone of voice said: "Good morning,
+neighbors; you seem to be very much pleased at something. May I ask what
+you see to laugh at?"
+
+"Te-he-he-he!" snickered a little boy, who pointed to the side of the
+house, and the by-standers followed his lead, with a loud chorus of
+guffaws.
+
+Miss Dobb looked upon the wall, and saw, in red letters, as if she had
+gone into business, opened a store, and put out a sign,--"MISS DOBB,
+LIES, SCANDAL, GOSSIP, WHOLESALE AND RETAIL."
+
+She threw up her hands in horror. Her eyes flashed; she gasped for
+breath. There was a paint-bucket and brush on the door-step; on one side
+of the bucket she saw the word Chrome.
+
+"The villain! I'll make him smart for this," she said, running in,
+snatching her bonnet, and out again, making all haste towards Squire
+Capias's office, to have Mr. Chrome arrested.
+
+The Squire heard her story. There was a merry twinkling of his eye, but
+he kept his countenance till she was through.
+
+"I do not think that Mr. Chrome did it; he is not such a fool as to
+leave his bucket and brush there as evidence against him; you had better
+let it rest awhile," said he.
+
+Mr. Chrome laughed when he saw the sign. "I didn't do it; I was abed and
+asleep, as my wife will testify. Somebody stole my bucket and brush; but
+it is a good joke on Dobb, I'll be blamed if it isn't," said he.
+
+Who did it? That was the question.
+
+"I will give fifty dollars to know," said Miss Dobb, her lips quivering
+with anger.
+
+Philip heard her and said, "Isn't there a fellow who sometimes helps Mr.
+Chrome paint wagons?"
+
+"Yes, I didn't think of him. It is just like him. There he comes now;
+I'll make him confess it." Miss Dobb's eyes flashed, her lips trembled,
+she was so angry. She remembered that one of the pigs which Paul
+painted, when he was a boy, was hers; she also remembered how he sent
+Mr. Smith's old white horse on a tramp after a bundle of hay.
+
+Paul was on his way to Mr. Chrome's shop, to begin work for the day. He
+wondered at the crowd. He saw the sign, and laughed with the rest.
+
+"You did that, sir," said Miss Dobb, coming up to him, reaching out her
+long hand and clutching at him with her bony fingers, as if she would
+like to tear him to pieces. "You did it, you villain! Now you needn't
+deny it; you painted my pig once, and now you have done this. You are a
+mean, good-for-nothing scoundrel," she said, working herself into a
+terrible passion.
+
+"I did not do it," said Paul, nettled at the charge, and growing red in
+the face.
+
+"You are a liar! you show your guilt in your countenance," said Miss
+Dobb.
+
+Paul's face was on fire. Never till then had he been called a liar. He
+was about to tell her loudly, that she was a meddler, tattler, and
+hypocrite, but he remembered that he had read somewhere, that "he who
+loses his temper loses his cause," and did not speak the words. He
+looked her steadily in the face, and said calmly, "I did not do it," and
+went on to his work.
+
+Weeks went by. The singing-school was drawing to a close. Paul had made
+rapid progress. His voice was round, rich, full, and clear. He no longer
+appeared at school wearing his grandfather's coat, for he had worked for
+Mr. Chrome, painting wagons, till he had earned enough to purchase a new
+suit of clothes. Besides, it was discovered that he could survey land,
+and several of the farmers employed him to run the lines between their
+farms. Mr. Rhythm took especial pains to help him on in singing, and
+before winter was through he could master the crookedest anthem in the
+book. Daphne Dare was the best alto, Hans Middlekauf the best bass, and
+Azalia the best treble. Sometimes Mr. Rhythm had the four sing a
+quartette, or Azalia and Paul sang a duet. At times, the school sang,
+while he listened. "I want you to learn to depend upon yourselves," said
+he. Then it was that Paul's voice was heard above all others, so clear
+and distinct, and each note so exact in time that they felt he was their
+leader.
+
+One evening Mr. Rhythm called Paul into the floor, and gave him the
+rattan with which he beat time, saying, "I want you to be leader in this
+tune; I resign the command to you, and you are to do just as if I were
+not here." The blood rushed to Paul's face, his knees trembled; but he
+felt that it was better to try and fail, than be a coward. He sounded
+the key, but his voice was husky and trembling. Fanny Funk, who had
+turned up her nose at Mr. Rhythm's proposition, giggled aloud, and there
+was laughing around the room. It nerved him in an instant. He opened his
+lips to shout, Silence! then he thought that they would not respect his
+authority, and would only laugh louder, which would make him appear
+ridiculous. He stood quietly and said, not in a husky voice, but calmly,
+pleasantly, and deliberately, "When the ladies have finished their
+laughter we will commence." The laughter ceased. He waited till the room
+was so still that they could hear the clock tick. "Now we will try it,"
+said he. They did not sing it right, and he made them go over it again
+and again, drilling them till they sang it so well that Mr. Rhythm and
+the spectators clapped their hands.
+
+"You will have a competent leader after I leave you," said Mr. Rhythm.
+Paul had gained this success by practice hour after hour, day after day,
+week after week, at home, till he was master of what he had undertaken.
+
+The question came up in parish meeting, whether the school should join
+the choir? Mr. Quaver and the old members opposed it, but they were
+voted down. Nothing was said about having a new chorister, for no one
+wished to hurt Mr. Quaver's feelings by appointing Paul in his place;
+but the school did not relish the idea of being led by Mr. Quaver,
+while, on the other hand, the old singers did not mean to be
+overshadowed by the young upstarts.
+
+It was an eventful Sunday in New Hope when the singing-school joined the
+choir. The church was crowded. Fathers and mothers who seldom attended
+meeting were present to see their children in the singers' seats. The
+girls were dressed in white, for it was a grand occasion. Mr. Quaver and
+the old choir were early in their places. Mr. Quaver's red nose was
+redder than ever, and he had a stern look. He took no notice of the new
+singers, who stood in the background, not daring to take their seats,
+and not knowing what to do till Paul arrived.
+
+"Where shall we sit, sir?" Paul asked, respectfully.
+
+"Anywhere back there," said Mr. Quaver.
+
+"We would like to have you assign us seats," said Paul.
+
+"I have nothing to do about it; you may sit anywhere, and sing when you
+are a mind to, or hold your tongues," said Mr. Quaver, sharply.
+
+"Very well; we will do so," said Paul, a little touched, telling the
+school to occupy the back seats. He was their acknowledged leader. He
+took his place behind Mr. Quaver, with Hans, Azalia, and Daphne near
+him. Mr. Quaver did not look round, neither did Miss Gamut, nor any of
+the old choir. They felt that the new-comers were intruders, who had no
+right there.
+
+The bell ceased its tolling, and Rev. Mr. Surplice ascended the
+pulpit-stairs. He was a venerable man. He had preached many years, and
+his long, white hair, falling upon his shoulders, seemed to crown him
+with a saintly glory. The people, old and young, honored, respected, and
+loved him; for he had grave counsel for the old, kind words for the
+young, and pleasant stories for the little ones. Everybody said that he
+was ripening for heaven. He rejoiced when he looked up into the gallery
+and saw such a goodly array of youth, beauty, and loveliness. Then,
+bowing his head in prayer, and looking onward to the eternal years, he
+seemed to see them members of a heavenly choir, clothed in white, and
+singing, "Alleluia! salvation and glory and honor and power unto the
+Lord our God!"
+
+After prayer, he read a hymn:--
+
+               "Now shall my head be lifted high
+                  Above my foes around;
+                And songs of joy and victory
+                  Within thy temple sound."
+
+There was a smile of satisfaction on Mr. Quaver's countenance while
+selecting the tune, as if he had already won a victory. There was a
+clearing of throats; then Mr. Fiddleman gave the key on the bass-viol.
+As Mr. Quaver had told Paul that the school might sing when they
+pleased, or hold their tongues, he determined to act independently of
+Mr. Quaver.
+
+"After one measure," whispered Paul. He knew they would watch his hand,
+and commence in exact time. The old choir was accustomed to sing without
+regard to time.
+
+Mr. Quaver commenced louder than usual,--twisting, turning, drawling,
+and flattening the first word as if it was spelled n-e-a-w. Miss Gamut
+and Mr. Cleff and the others dropped in one by one. Not a sound as yet
+from the school. All stood eagerly watching Paul. He cast a quick glance
+right and left. His hand moved,--down--left--right--up. They burst into
+the tune, fifty voices together. It was like the broadside of a
+fifty-gun frigate. The old choir was confounded. Miss Gamut stopped
+short. Captain Binnacle, who once was skipper of a schooner on the
+Lakes, and who owned a pew in front of the pulpit, said afterwards, that
+she was thrown on her beam-ends as if struck by a nor'wester and all her
+main-sail blown into ribbons in a jiffy. Mr. Quaver, though confused for
+a moment, recovered; Miss Gamut also righted herself. Though confounded,
+they were not yet defeated. Mr. Quaver stamped upon the floor, which
+brought Mr. Cleff to his senses. Mr. Quaver looked as if he would say,
+"Put down the upstarts!" Mr. Fiddleman played with all his might; Miss
+Gamut screamed at the top of her voice, while Mr. Cleff puffed out his
+fat cheeks and became red in the face, doing his utmost to drown them.
+
+The people looked and listened in amazement. Mr. Surplice stood
+reverently in his place. Those who sat nearest the pulpit said that
+there was a smile on his countenance.
+
+It was a strange fugue, but each held on to the end of the verse, the
+young folks getting out ahead of Mr. Quaver and his flock, and having a
+breathing spell before commencing the second stanza. So they went
+through the hymn. Then Mr. Surplice read from the Bible: "Behold how
+good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! As
+the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of
+Zion; for there the Lord commanded his blessing forevermore."
+
+Turning to the choir, he said, "My dear friends, I perceive that there
+is a want of unity in your services, as singers of the sanctuary;
+therefore, that the peace and harmony of the place may not be broken, I
+propose that, when the next psalm is given, the old members of the choir
+sing the first stanza, and the new members the second, and so through
+the hymn. By thus doing there will be no disagreement."
+
+Each one--old and young--resolved to do his best, for comparisons would
+be made. It would be the struggle for victory.
+
+"I will give them a tune which will break them down," Mr. Quaver
+whispered to Miss Gamut, as he selected one with a tenor and treble
+duet, which he and Miss Gamut had sung together a great many times.
+Louder and stronger sang Mr. Quaver. Miss Gamut cleared her throat, with
+the determination to sing as she never sang before, and to show the
+people what a great difference there was between her voice and Azalia
+Adams's. But the excitement of the moment set her heart in a flutter
+when she came to the duet, which ran up out of the scale. She aimed at
+high G, but instead of striking it in a round full tone, as she intended
+and expected, she only made a faint squeak on F, which sounded so funny
+that the people down stairs smiled in spite of their efforts to keep
+sober. Her breath was gone. She sank upon her seat, covered her face
+with her hands, mortified and ashamed. Poor Miss Gamut! But there was a
+sweet girl behind her who pitied her very much, and who felt like
+crying, so quick was her sympathy for all in trouble and sorrow.
+
+Mr. Quaver was provoked. Never was his nose so red and fiery. Determined
+not to be broken down, he carried the verse through, ending with a roar,
+as if to say, "I am not defeated."
+
+The young folks now had their turn. There was a measure of time, the
+exact movement, the clear chord, swelling into full chorus, then
+becoming fainter, till it seemed like the murmuring of voices far away.
+How charming the duet! Where Mr. Quaver blared like a trumpet, Paul sang
+in clear, melodious notes; and where Miss Gamut broke down, Azalia
+glided so smoothly and sweetly that every heart was thrilled. Then, when
+all joined in the closing strain, the music rolled in majesty along the
+roof, encircled the pulpit, went down the winding stairs, swept along
+the aisles, entered the pews, and delighted the congregation. Miss Gamut
+still continued to sit with her hands over her face. Mr. Quaver nudged
+her to try another verse, but she shook her head. Paul waited for Mr.
+Quaver, who was very red in the face, and who felt that it was of no use
+to try again without Miss Gamut. He waved his hand to Paul as a signal
+to go on. The victory was won. Through the sermon Mr. Quaver thought the
+matter over. He felt very uncomfortable, but at noon he shook hands with
+Paul, and said, "I resign my place to you. I have been chorister for
+thirty years, and have had my day." He made the best of his defeat, and
+in the afternoon, with all the old singers, sat down stairs.
+
+Judge Adams bowed to Paul very cordially at the close of the service.
+Colonel Dare shook hands with him, and Rev. Mr. Surplice, with a
+pleasant smile, said, "May the Lord be with you." It was spoken so
+kindly and heartily, and was so like a benediction, that the tears came
+to Paul's eyes; for he felt that he was unworthy of such kindness.
+
+There was one person in the congregation who looked savagely at
+him,--Miss Dobb. "It is a shame," she said, when the people came out of
+church, speaking loud enough to be heard by all, "that such a young
+upstart and hypocrite should be allowed to worm himself into Mr.
+Quaver's seat." She hated Paul, and determined to put him down if
+possible.
+
+Paul went home from church pleased that the school had done so well, and
+grateful for all the kind words he heard; but as he retired for the
+night, and thought over what had taken place,--when he realized that he
+was the leader of the choir, and that singing was a part of divine
+worship,--when he considered that he had fifty young folks to
+direct--and that it would require a steady hand to keep them straight,
+he felt very sober. As these thoughts, one by one, came crowding upon
+him, he felt that he could not bear so great a responsibility. Then he
+reflected that life is made up of responsibilities, and that it was his
+duty to meet them manfully. If he cringed before, or shrank from them,
+and gave them the go-by, he would be a coward, and never would
+accomplish anything. No one would respect him, and he would not even
+have any respect for himself. "I won't back out!" he said, resolving to
+do the best he could.
+
+Very pleasant were the days. Spring had come with its sunshine and
+flowers. The birds were in their old haunts,--the larks in the meadows,
+the partridges in the woods, the quails in the fields. Paul was as happy
+as they, singing from morning till night the tunes he had learned; and
+when his day's work was over, he was never too wearied to call upon
+Daphne with Azalia, and sing till the last glimmer of daylight faded
+from the west,--Azalia playing the piano, and their voices mingling in
+perfect harmony. How pleasant the still hours with Azalia beneath the
+old elms, which spread out their arms above them, as if to pronounce a
+benediction,--the moonlight smiling around them,--the dews perfuming the
+air with the sweet odors of roses and apple-blooms,--the cricket
+chirping his love-song to his mate,--the river forever flowing, and
+sweetly chanting its endless melody!
+
+Sometimes they lingered by the way, and laughed to hear the grand chorus
+of bull-frogs croaking among the rushes of the river, and the echoes of
+their own voices dying away in the distant forest. And then, standing in
+the gravelled walk before the door of Azalia's home, where the flowers
+bloomed around them, they looked up to the stars, shining so far away,
+and talked of choirs of angels, and of those who had gone from earth to
+heaven, and were singing the song of the Redeemed. How bright the days!
+how blissful the nights!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+THE NIGHT-HAWKS.
+
+
+Mr. Shell was proprietor of the New Hope Oyster Saloon. He got up nice
+game suppers, and treated his customers to ale, whiskey, and brandy.
+Philip loved good living, and often ate an oyster-stew and a broiled
+quail, and washed it down with a glass of ale, late at night in Mr.
+Shell's rooms, in company with three or four other boys. After supper
+they had cigars and a game of cards, till midnight, when Mr. Shell put
+out his lights and closed his doors, often interrupting them in the
+middle of a game. That was not agreeable, and so the young gentlemen
+hired a room over the saloon, fitted it up with tables and chairs, and
+organized a club, calling themselves "Night-Hawks." Philip was the chief
+hawk. They met nearly every evening. No one could get into their room
+without giving a signal to those within, and they had a secret sign by
+which they knew each other in the dark.
+
+At first they enjoyed themselves, playing cards, smoking cigars,
+drinking ale, sipping hot whiskey punch, and telling stories; but in a
+short time the stories were not worth laughing at, the games of cards
+were the same thing over and over, and they wanted something more
+exciting.
+
+It was the fall of the year. There was rich fruit in the orchards and
+gardens of New Hope, russet and crimson-cheeked apples, golden-hued
+pears, luscious grapes purpling in the October sun, and juicy melons.
+The bee-hives were heavy with honey, and the bees were still at work,
+gathering new sweets from the late blooming flowers. Many baskets of
+ripe apples and choicest pears, many a bunch of grapes, with melons,
+found their way up the narrow stairs to the room of the Night-Hawks.
+There was a pleasing excitement in gathering the apples and pears under
+the windows of the unsuspecting people fast asleep, or in plucking the
+grapes from garden trellises at midnight. But people began to keep
+watch.
+
+"We must throw them off our track. I'll make them think that Paul does
+it," said Philip to himself one day. He had not forgotten the night of
+Daphne's party,--how Paul had won a victory and he had suffered defeat.
+Paul was respected; he was the leader of the choir, and was getting on
+in the world. "I'll fix him!" said he.
+
+The next morning, when Mr. Leatherby kindled the fire in his shoe-shop,
+he found that the stove would not draw. The smoke, instead of going up
+the funnel, poured into the room, and the fire, instead of roaring and
+blazing, smouldered a few moments and finally died out. He kindled it
+again, opened the windows to let in the air, but it would not burn. He
+got down on his knees and blew till he was out of breath, got his eyes
+filled with smoke, which made the tears roll down his cheeks. The shop
+was a mere box of a building, with a low roof; so he climbed up and
+looked into the chimney and found it stuffed with newspapers. Pulling
+them out, he saw a crumpled piece of writing-paper. He smoothed it out.
+"Ah! what is this?" said he; and, putting on his spectacles, he read,
+"North 69 deg. East, 140 rods to a stake; South 87 deg. West, 50 rods to an
+oak-tree."
+
+"That is Paul Parker's figuring, I reckon. I always knew that Paul loved
+fun, but I didn't think he would do this!" said Mr. Leatherby to
+himself, more in sorrow than in anger.
+
+"Good morning, Mr. Leatherby," said Philip, coming up at that moment.
+"What is the matter with your chimney?"
+
+"Some of you boys have been playing a trick upon me."
+
+"Who, I should like to know, is there in New Hope mean enough to do
+that?" Philip asked.
+
+"Whose figuring do you call that?" Mr. Leatherby asked, presenting the
+paper.
+
+"Paul Parker's, as sure as I am alive! You ought to expose him, Mr.
+Leatherby."
+
+"I don't like to say anything against him. I always liked him; but I
+didn't think he would cut up such a shine as this," Mr. Leatherby
+replied.
+
+"Appearances are deceptive. It won't do for me to say anything against
+Paul, for people might say I was envious; but if I were you, Mr.
+Leatherby, I'd put him over the road," said Philip, walking on.
+
+Mr. Leatherby thought the matter over all day, as he sat in his dingy
+shop, which was only a few rods from Mr. Chrome's, where Paul was
+painting wagons, singing snatches of songs, and psalms and hymns. Mr.
+Leatherby loved to hear him. It made the days seem shorter. It rested
+him when he was tired, cheered him when he was discouraged. It was like
+sunshine in his soul, for it made him happy. Thinking it over, and
+hearing Paul's voice so round, clear, full, and sweet, he couldn't make
+up his mind to tell anybody of the little joke. "After all, he didn't
+mean anything in particular, only to have a little fun with me. Boys
+will be boys,"--and so Mr. Leatherby, kind old man that he was,
+determined to keep it all to himself.
+
+When Paul passed by the shop on his way home at night, he said, "Good
+evening, Mr. Leatherby," so pleasantly and kindly, that Mr. Leatherby
+half made up his mind that it wasn't Paul who did it, after all, but
+some of the other boys,--Bob Swift, perhaps, a sly, cunning, crafty
+fellow, who was one of Philip's cronies. "It would be just like Bob, but
+not at all like Paul, and so I won't say anything to anybody," said the
+mild old man to himself.
+
+Miss Dobb's shaggy little poodle came out, barking furiously at Paul as
+he passed down the street. Paul gave him a kick which sent him howling
+towards the house, saying, "Get out, you ugly puppy!" Miss Dobb heard
+him. She came to the door and clasped the poodle to her bosom, saying,
+"Poor dear Trippee! Did the bad fellow hurt the dear little Trippee?"
+Then she looked savagely at Paul, and as she put out her hand to close
+the door, she seemed to clutch at Paul with her long, bony fingers, as
+if to get hold of him and give him a shaking.
+
+Trip wasn't hurt much, for he was out again in a few minutes, snapping
+and snarling at all passers-by. Just at dark he was missing. Miss Dobb
+went to the door and called, "Trip! Trip! Trip!" but he did not come at
+her call. She looked up and down the street, but could not see him. The
+evening passed away. She went to the door many times and called; she
+went to Mr. Shelbarke's and to Mr. Noggin's, but no one had seen Trip.
+She went to bed wondering what had become of him, and fearing that
+somebody had killed or stolen him.
+
+But in the night she heard him whining at the door. She opened it
+joyfully. "Where have you been, you dear little good-for-nothing darling
+Trip?" she said, kissing him, finding, as she did so, that all his hair
+had been sheared off, except a tuft on the end of his tail. She was so
+angry that she could not refrain from shedding tears. The puppy
+shivered, trembled, and whined in the cold, and Miss Dobb was obliged
+to sew him up in flannel. He looked so funny in his coat, with the tuft
+of hair waving on the end of his tail, that Miss Dobb laughed
+notwithstanding her anger. In the morning she went out to tell her
+neighbors what had happened, and met Philip.
+
+"Good morning. I hope you are well, Miss Dobb," he said politely.
+
+"Yes, I am well, only I am so vexed that I don't know what to do."
+
+"Indeed! What has happened?"
+
+"Why, somebody has sheared all of Trip's hair off, except a tuft on the
+end of his tail, which looks like a swab. It is an outrageous insult,
+for Trip had a beautiful tail. I would pull every hair out of the
+villain's head, if I knew who did it."
+
+"Who was it that kicked your dog last night, and called him an ugly
+puppy?" Philip asked.
+
+Miss Dobb remembered who, and her eyes flashed. Philip walked on, and
+came across Bob Swift, who had been standing round the corner of Mr.
+Noggin's shop, listening to all that was said. They laughed at
+something, then stopped and looked at Mr. Noggin's bees, which were
+buzzing and humming merrily in the bright October sun.
+
+That night Mr. Noggin heard a noise in his yard. Springing out of bed
+and going to the window, he saw that a thief was taking the boxes of
+honey from his patent hives. He opened the door and shouted, "Thief!
+Thief!" The robber ran. In the morning Mr. Noggin found that the thief
+had dropped his hat in his haste. He picked it up. "Aha! 'Pears to me I
+have seen this hat before. Paul Parker's, as sure as I am alive!" he
+said. It was the hat which Paul wore in Mr. Chrome's paint-shop.
+Everybody knew it, because it was daubed and spattered with paint.
+
+Mr. Noggin went to his work. He was a well-meaning man, but
+shallow-brained. He knew how to make good barrels, tubs, and buckets,
+but had no mind of his own. He put on his leather apron, and commenced
+driving the hoops upon a barrel, pounding with his adze, singing, and
+making the barrel ring with
+
+               "Cooper ding, cooper ding, cooper ding, ding, ding!
+                Cooper ding, cooper ding, cooper ding, ding, ding!
+                       Cooper ding, job, job,
+                       Cooper ding, bob, bob,
+                       Heigh ho,--ding, ding, ding!"
+
+Mr. Noggin was rattling on in that fashion when Miss Dobb, followed by
+Trip, entered the shop.
+
+"Well, I declare! That is the first time I ever saw a pup with a shirt
+on," said Mr. Noggin, stopping and looking at the poodle sewed up in
+flannel. "That is Paul Parker's doings,--I mean the shearing," said Miss
+Dobb, her eyes flashing indignantly.
+
+"Paul's work! O ho! Then he shears pups besides robbing bee-hives, does
+he?" said Mr. Noggin. He told Miss Dobb what had happened.
+
+"It is your duty, Mr. Noggin, to have him arrested at once. You are
+under imperative obligations to the community as a law and order abiding
+citizen to put the sheriff upon his track. He is a hypocrite. He ought
+to be pitched out of the singing-seats head first." So Miss Dobb wound
+Mr. Noggin round her finger, and induced him to enter a complaint
+against Paul.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+PAUL'S FRIENDS.
+
+
+For five months Paul had been leader of the choir, and so faithfully
+were his duties performed, so excellent his drill, and so good his taste
+and mature his judgment, so completely were the choir under his control,
+that the ministers from the surrounding parishes, when they exchanged
+with Rev. Mr. Surplice, said, "What glorious singing they have at New
+Hope!" It was so good, that people who never had been in the habit of
+attending church hired pews,--not that they cared to hear Mr. Surplice
+preach and pray, but it was worth while to hear Azalia Adams and Daphne
+Dare sing a quartette with Paul and Hans, and the whole choir joining in
+perfect time and in sweetest harmony.
+
+Paul believed that a thing worth doing at all was worth doing well. His
+heart was in his work. It was a pleasure to sing. He loved music because
+it made him happy, and he felt also that he and Azalia and Daphne and
+all the choir were a power for good in the community to make men
+better. Farmer Harrow, who used to work at haying on Sunday, said it was
+worth a bushel of turnips any time to hear such sweet singing. So his
+hired man and horses had rest one day in seven, and he became a better
+man.
+
+In the calm moonlight nights Paul often lay wide awake, hour after hour,
+listening with rapture to the sweet music which came to him from the
+distant woods, from the waterfall, from the old maple in front of the
+house, when the leaves, tinged with gorgeous hues, were breaking one by
+one from the twigs, and floating to the ground, from the crickets
+chirping the last lone songs of the dying year, and from the robins and
+sparrows still hovering around their summer haunts. It was sweet to
+think of the pleasant hours he had passed with Azalia and Daphne, and
+with all the choir; and then it was very pleasant to look into the
+future, and imagine what bliss there might be in store for him;--a
+better home for his mother in her declining years,--a better life for
+himself. He would be a good citizen, respected and beloved. He would be
+kind to all. He wished that all the world might be good and happy. When
+he became a man, he would try and make people good. If everybody was as
+good as Azalia, what a glorious world it would be! She was always good,
+always cheerful. She had a smile for everybody. Her life was as warm and
+sunny and golden as the October days, and as calm and peaceful as the
+moonlight streaming across his chamber. Sweet it was to think of
+her,--sweeter to see her; sweetest of all to stand by her side and unite
+his voice to hers, and feel in his soul the charm of her presence. In
+his dreams he sometimes heard her and sat by her side.
+
+Sometimes, while thus lying awake, watching the stars as they went
+sailing down the western sky, his thoughts went beyond the present into
+the unseen future, whither his father and grandfather had gone. They
+sang when on earth, and he thought of them as singing in heaven.
+Sometimes he gazed so long and steadily toward the heavenly land, that
+his eyes became dim with tears, so sweet and yet so sad the sounds he
+seemed to hear,--so near and yet so far away that land.
+
+So the days went by, and the calm and peaceful nights, bringing him to
+October,--the glorious harvest month.
+
+And now suddenly people looked shyly at him. There were mysterious
+whisperings and averted faces. He met Squire Capias one morning on the
+street. "Good morning," said Paul; but the lawyer walked on without
+reply. He passed Miss Dobb's house. She sat by the front window, and
+glared at him savagely; and yet she seemed to smile, but her countenance
+was so thin, wrinkled, and sharp, and her eyes so fierce, her smile so
+fiendish, that it put him in mind of a picture he once saw in a horrible
+story-book, which told of a witch that carried off little children and
+ate them for breakfast. Paul thought that Miss Dobb would like to pick
+his bones. But he went on to his work, rejoicing that there were not
+many Miss Dobbs in the world.
+
+While hard at it with his paint-brush, Mr. Ketchum entered. He was a
+tall, stout man, with black, bushy whiskers, and so strong that he could
+take a barrel of cider on his knees and drink out of the bunghole. He
+was a sheriff. The rowdies who fell into his hands said it was no use to
+try to resist Mr. Ketchum, for he once seized a stubborn fellow by the
+heels, and swung him round as he would a cat by the tail, till the
+fellow lost his breath and was frightened half out of his wits.
+
+"I have called in to ask you to walk up to Judge Adams's office on a
+matter of business," said Mr. Ketchum.
+
+"With pleasure, sir," said Paul, who, now that he had become a surveyor
+of land, had been called upon repeatedly to give his testimony in court.
+
+They entered Judge Adams's office, which was crowded with people. Mr.
+Noggin, Miss Dobb, Philip, and Bob Swift were there. A buzz ran round
+the room. They all looked upon Paul.
+
+"You have been arrested, Paul, and are charged with stealing honey from
+Mr. Noggin's bee-hives. Are you guilty or not guilty?" said Judge Adams.
+
+"Arrested!--arrested for stealing!"--Paul exclaimed, stupefied and
+astounded at the words of the judge. It was like a lightning-stroke. His
+knees became weak. He felt sick at heart. Great drops of cold and clammy
+sweat stood upon his forehead. Arrested! What would his mother say? Her
+son accused of stealing! What would everybody say? What would Azalia
+think? What would Rev. Mr. Surplice say? What would his class of boys in
+the Sunday-school say, not about him, but about truth and honor and
+religion, when they heard that their teacher was arrested for stealing?
+
+His throat became dry, his tongue was parched. His voice suddenly grew
+husky. His brain reeled. His heart one moment stood still, then leaped
+in angry throbs, as if ready to burst. He trembled as if attacked by
+sudden ague, then a hot flash went over him, burning up his brain,
+scorching his heart, and withering his life.
+
+"What say you, are you guilty or not guilty?"
+
+"I am innocent," said Paul, gasping for breath, and sinking into his
+seat, taking no notice of what was going on around him. He was busy with
+the future. He saw all his hopes of life dead in an instant,--killed by
+one flash. He knew that he was innocent, but he was accused of crime,
+arrested, and a prisoner. The world would have it that he was guilty.
+His good name was gone forever. His hopes were blighted, his aspirations
+destroyed, his dreams of future joy,--all had passed away. His mother
+would die of a broken heart. Henceforth those with whom he had
+associated would shun him. For him there was no more peace, joy, or
+comfort,--nothing but impenetrable darkness and agony in the future. So
+overwhelmed was he, that he took no notice of Mr. Noggin's testimony, or
+of what was done, till he heard Judge Adams say: "There are some
+circumstances against the accused, but the testimony is not sufficient
+to warrant my binding him over for trial. He is discharged."
+
+Paul went out into the fresh air, like one just waking from sleep,
+numbed and stupefied. The words of the judge rang in his
+ears,--"Circumstances against the accused." The accused! The prisoner!
+He had been a prisoner. All the world would know of it, but would not
+know that he was innocent. How could he bear it? It was a crushing
+agony. Then there came to him the words of the psalm sung on Sunday,--
+
+               "My times are in thy hand,
+                  Why should I doubt or fear?
+                My Father's hand will never cause
+                  His child a needless tear."
+
+So he was comforted in the thought that it was for his good; but he
+couldn't see how. He resolved to bear it manfully, conscious of his
+innocence, and trusting in God that he would vindicate his honor.
+
+He went home and told his mother all that had happened. He was surprised
+to find that it did not shock her, as he supposed it would.
+
+"I know you are innocent, Paul," she said, kissing him. "I am not
+surprised at what has happened. You are the victim of a conspiracy. I
+have been expecting that something would befall you, for you have been
+highly prospered, and prosperity brings enemies. It will all come out
+right in the end." Thus his mother soothed him, and tried to lift the
+great weight from his heart.
+
+He was innocent, but half of the community thought him guilty. "He did
+it,--he did it,"--said Miss Dobb to all her neighbors. What should he
+do? How could he establish his innocence? How remove all suspicion?
+Ought he to resign his position as leader of the choir? or should he
+retain it? But the committee of the society settled that. "After what
+has happened, you will see the propriety of giving up your position as
+leader of the choir," said they. "Also your class in the Sunday-school,"
+said the Superintendent.
+
+O, how crushing it was! He was an outcast,--a vile, miserable wretch,--a
+hypocrite,--a mean, good-for-nothing fellow,--a scoundrel,--a thief,--a
+robber,--in the estimation of those who had respected him. They did not
+speak to him on the street. Colonel Dare, who usually had a pleasant
+word, did not notice him. He met Daphne Dare, but she crossed the street
+to avoid him. How terrible the days! How horrible the nights! He tossed
+and tumbled, and turned upon his bed. There was a fire in his bones. His
+flesh was hot. His brain was like a smouldering furnace. If he dropped
+off to sleep, it was but for a moment, and he awoke with a start, to
+feel the heat burning up his soul with its slow, consuming flame.
+
+At evening twilight he wandered by the river-side to cool his fever,
+dipping his hand into the stream and bathing his brow. He stood upon the
+bridge and looked over the railing into the surging waters. A horrible
+thought came over him. Why not jump in and let the swollen current bear
+him away? What use was it to live, with his good name gone, and all the
+future a blank? He banished the thought. He would live on and trust in
+God.
+
+He heard a step upon the bridge, and, looking up, beheld Azalia. She had
+been out gathering the faded leaves of autumn, and late-blossoming
+flowers, in the woods beyond the river. "Will she speak to me?" was the
+question which rose in his mind. His heart stood still in that moment of
+suspense. She came towards him, held out her hand, and said, "Good
+evening, Paul."
+
+"Then you do not turn away from me?"
+
+"No, Paul, I don't believe that you are a thief."
+
+Tears came to his eyes as he took her proffered hand,--tears which
+welled up from his heart and which saved it from bursting. "O Azalia, if
+you had turned from me, I should have died! I have suffered terrible
+agony, but I can live now. I am innocent."
+
+"I believe you, Paul, and I shall still be as I have been, your friend.
+There is my pledge," she said, setting down her basket, and putting a
+frost-flower into a button-hole of his threadbare coat. Then, to make
+him forget that the world was looking coldly upon him, she showed him
+the flowers she had gathered, and the gorgeous maple leaves,--scarlet,
+orange, purple, and crimson, and talked of their marvellous beauty. And
+when, with a smile, she said "Good night," and went tripping homeward,
+his heart was so full of gratitude that he could not utter his thanks.
+He could only say in his heart, "God bless her." It was as if he had met
+an angel in the way, and had been blessed. He stood there while the
+twilight deepened, and felt his heart grow strong again. He went home.
+His mother saw by the deep-settled determination on his face, by his
+calmness, and by his sad smile, that he was not utterly broken down and
+overwhelmed by the trouble which, like a wave of the sea, had rolled
+upon him.
+
+"There is one who does not pass me by; Azalia is still a friend," he
+said.
+
+"There are several whom you may count upon as being still your friends,"
+she replied.
+
+"Who are they, mother?"
+
+"God and the angels, my son."
+
+So she comforted him, telling him that the best way to put down a lie
+was to live it down, and that the time would surely come when his honor
+and integrity would be vindicated.
+
+When they kneeled together to offer their evening prayer, and when his
+mother asked that the affliction might work out for him an eternal
+weight of glory, he resolved that he would, with God's help, live down
+the lie, and wait patiently, bearing the ignominy and shame and the
+cold looks of those who had been his friends, till his character for
+truth and honesty was re-established. He was calm and peaceful now. Once
+more he heard sweet music as he lay upon his bed. Through the night the
+winds, the waterfall, the crickets, seemed to be saying with Azalia, "We
+are still your friends,--still your friends--your friends--your
+friends!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+IN A TRAP.
+
+
+A kind word, a look, a smile, a warm grasp of the hand by a friend in
+time of trouble,--how they remain in memory! Sometimes they are like
+ropes thrown to drowning men. The meeting between Paul and Azalia upon
+the bridge was a turning point in his life. He felt, when he saw her
+approaching, that, if she passed him by, looking upon him as a vile
+outcast from society, he might as well give up a contest where
+everything was against him. He loved truth and honor for their own sake.
+He remembered the words of his grandfather, that truth and honor are
+better than anything else in the world. Many a night he had heard the
+winds repeating those words as they whistled through the cracks and
+crevices of his chamber, rattling the shingles upon the roof, saying
+over and over and over again, Truth and honor, truth and honor. He had
+tried to be true, honest, and manly, not only to make himself better,
+but to help everybody else who had a hard time in life; but if Rev. Mr.
+Surplice, Judge Adams, Colonel Dare, and all the good folks looked upon
+him as a thief, what was the use of trying to rise? There was one who
+was still his friend. Her sweet, sad smile followed him. He saw it all
+the time, by day and by night, while awake and while asleep. He felt the
+warm, soft touch of her hand, and heard her words. He remembered that
+God is always on the side of truth, and so he resolved to go right on as
+if nothing had happened, and live down the accusation.
+
+But he couldn't go on. "After what has happened, it is expedient that
+you should leave the choir till your innocence is established," said
+Deacon Hardhack, who was chairman of the singing committee,--a good,
+well-meaning man, who was very zealous for maintaining what he
+considered to be the faith once delivered to the saints. He carried on
+an iron foundery, and people sometimes called him a cast-iron man. He
+believed, that it was the duty of everybody to do exactly right; if they
+did wrong, or if they were suspected of doing wrong, they must take the
+consequences. Miss Dobb told him that Paul ought to be pitched out of
+the choir. "I think so too, Miss Dobb," said the Deacon, and it was
+done.
+
+It required a great bracing of Paul's nerves, on Sunday morning, to go
+to church, and take a seat in the pew down stairs, with every eye upon
+him; but he did it manfully.
+
+The bell ceased tolling. It was time for services to commence, but there
+was no choir. The singers' seats were empty. Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and
+all the others, were down stairs. Mr. Surplice waited awhile, then read
+the hymn; but there was a dead silence,--no turning of leaves, no
+blending of sweet voices, no soul-thrilling strains, such as had
+reformed Farmer Harrow, and given rest to his horses one day in seven.
+People looked at the singers' seats, then at Paul, then at each other.
+The silence became awkward. Deacon Hardhack was much exercised in mind.
+He had been very zealous in committee meeting for having Paul sent down
+stairs, but he had not looked forward to see what effect it would have
+upon the choir. Mr. Cannel, who owned a coal-mine, sat in front of Paul.
+He was not on good terms with Deacon Hardhack, for they once had a
+falling out on business matters, and so whatever the Deacon attempted
+to do in society affairs was opposed by Mr. Cannel. They were both
+members of the singing committee, and had a stormy time on Saturday
+evening. Mr. Cannel did what he could to keep Paul in the choir, but the
+Deacon had carried the day.
+
+"I'll triumph yet," was the thought which flashed through Mr. Cannel's
+mind, when he saw how matters stood. He turned and nodded to Paul to
+strike up a tune, but Paul took no notice of him. Mr. Cannel half rose
+from his seat, and whispered hoarsely, "Strike up a tune, Paul." All the
+congregation saw him. Paul made no movement, but sat perfectly still,
+not even looking towards Mr. Cannel. Deacon Hardhack saw what Mr. Cannel
+was up to, and resolved to head him off. He rose from his seat, and said
+aloud, "Brother Quaver, will you pitch a tune?"
+
+Again, as in other days, Mr. Quaver rubbed his great red nose, as
+trumpeters wipe their instruments before giving a blast. Then, after a
+loud Ahem! which made the church ring, he began to sing. It was so
+strange a sound, so queer, so unlike the sweet music which had charmed
+the congregation through the summer, that there was smiling all over
+the church. His voice trembled and rattled, and sounded so funny that a
+little boy laughed aloud, which disconcerted him, and he came near
+breaking down. Miss Gamut sat in one corner of the church, many pews
+from Mr. Quaver. She attempted to join, but was so far away that she
+felt, as she afterwards remarked, like a cat in a strange garret. Paul
+did not sing. He thought that, if it was an offence for him to sing in
+the choir, it would be equally offensive to sing in the congregation.
+Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and all the members of the choir, who were sitting
+in the pews with their parents, were silent. They had talked the matter
+over before church.
+
+"Paul is innocent; he has only been accused. It isn't right to condemn
+him, or turn from him, till we know he is not worthy of our confidence.
+I met him on the bridge last night, and he looked as if he hadn't a
+friend in the world. I shall stand by him," said Azalia.
+
+"Deacon Hardhack and Miss Dobb mean to break down the choir. It is a
+conspiracy," said Hans, who felt that Paul's case was his own.
+
+Daphne began to look at the matter in a new light, and felt ashamed of
+herself for having passed by Paul without noticing him.
+
+After service there was a great deal of loud talking.
+
+"If that is the kind of singing you are going to have, I'll stay at
+home," said Farmer Harrow.
+
+"It would be a desecration of the sanctuary, and we should be the aiders
+and abettors of sin and iniquity, if we allowed a fellow who has been
+accused of stealing to lead the singing," said Deacon Hardhack to Mr.
+Cannel.
+
+"Let him that is without sin among you cast the first stone," was Mr.
+Cannel's reply, and he felt that he had given the Deacon a good hit.
+
+"Paul hasn't had his deserts by a long chalk," said Miss Dobb.
+
+"He has been treated shamefully," said Azalia, indignantly.
+
+All took sides, some for Paul, and some against him. Old things, which
+had no connection with the matter, were raked up. Mr. Cannel twitted
+Deacon Hardback of cheating him, while on the other hand the Deacon
+accused Mr. Cannel of giving false weight in selling coal. The peace
+and harmony of the church and society were disturbed.
+
+Mr. Quaver felt very sore over that laugh which the little boy had
+started. He knew his voice was cracked, and that his singing days were
+over. "I am not going to make a fool of myself, to be laughed at," he
+said, and made up his mind that he wouldn't sing another note to please
+the Deacon or anybody else.
+
+In the afternoon Mr. Quaver's seat was empty. Mr. Surplice read a hymn
+and waited for some one to begin. Mr. Cannel once more nodded to Paul,
+but Paul took no notice of it, and so there was no singing. A very dull
+service it was. After the benediction, Mr. Cannel, Colonel Dare, and
+Judge Adams said to Paul, "We hope you will lead the singing next
+Sunday."
+
+"Gentlemen, I have been requested by the chairman of the committee to
+leave the choir. When he invites me to return I will take the matter
+into consideration; till then I shall take no part in the singing,"--he
+replied, calmly and decidedly.
+
+Through the week Paul went on with his business, working and studying,
+bringing all his will and energy into action; for he resolved that he
+would not let what had taken place break him down.
+
+Mr. Noggin believed him guilty. "He will steal your grapes, Mr.
+Leatherby, if you don't look out," he said to the shoemaker, who had a
+luxuriant vine in his garden, which was so full of ripe clusters that
+people's mouths watered when they saw them purpling in the October sun.
+
+Mr. Leatherby concluded to keep his eyes open,--also to set a trap. He
+waited till evening, that no one might see what he was about. His garden
+was a warm, sunny spot, upon a hillside. A large butternut-tree, with
+wide-spreading branches, gave support to the vine. Mr. Leatherby filled
+a hogshead with stones, headed it up, rolled it to the spot, and tilted
+it so nicely that a slight jar would send it rolling down the hill. Then
+fastening one end of a rope to the hogshead, he threw the other end over
+a branch of the tree, brought it down to the ground, and made a noose.
+Then, taking a board, he put one end upon the hogshead and rested the
+other end on the ground, where he had placed the noose. He expected that
+whoever came after the grapes would walk up the board to reach the great
+clusters which hung overhead, that the hogshead would begin to roll,
+the board would drop, the noose draw, and the thief would find himself
+dangling by the heels. It was admirably contrived. About midnight Mr.
+Leatherby heard the board drop. "I've got him!" he shouted, springing
+out of bed, alarming Mrs. Leatherby, who thought he was crazy. He had
+not told her of the trap.
+
+"Got whom? Got what?" she exclaimed, wondering what he meant.
+
+"Paul Parker, who has come to steal the grapes," he said, as he put on
+his clothes.
+
+He went out, and found that it was not Paul, but Bob Swift, who was
+dangling, head downwards. The noose had caught him by one leg. A very
+laughable appearance he made, as he kicked and swung his arms, and
+swayed to and fro, vainly struggling to get away.
+
+"So you are the thief, are you? How do you like being hung up by the
+heels? Are the grapes sweet or sour?" Mr. Leatherby asked, not offering
+to relieve him.
+
+"Please let me go, sir. I won't do so again," said Bob, whining.
+
+"It won't hurt you to hang awhile, I reckon," Mr. Leatherby replied,
+going into the house and telling Mrs. Leatherby what had happened, then
+calling up Mr. Shelbarke, who lived near by, and also Mr. Noggin.
+
+"I reckon that this isn't your first trick, Bob," said Mr. Leatherby,
+when he returned with his neighbors. He liked Paul, and had been loath
+to believe that he was guilty of stealing. "It is you who have been
+playing tricks all along. Come now, own up," he added.
+
+"It ain't me, it is Philip,--he told me to come," said Bob, who was
+thoroughly cowed by the appearance of Mr. Noggin and the others, and who
+feared that he would be harshly dealt with.
+
+"O ho! Philip Funk is at the bottom, is he?" Mr. Leatherby exclaimed,
+remembering how Philip suggested that it was Paul who had stuffed his
+chimney with old paper.
+
+"If you will let me down, I will tell you all," said Bob, groaning with
+pain from the cord cutting into his ankle.
+
+"We will hear your confession before we let you down," said Mr.
+Leatherby.
+
+Bob begged, and whined, but to no purpose, till he told them all about
+the Night-Hawks,--that Philip set them on, and that Paul did not take
+Mr. Noggin's honey, nor smoke out Mr. Leatherby. It was Philip who
+sheared Miss Dobb's puppy, who took Mr. Shelbarke's watermelons, and
+robbed Deacon Hardhack's hen-roost. When Bob had told all, they let him
+go. He went off limping, but very glad that he was free.
+
+In the morning Mr. Leatherby and Mr. Noggin reported what had happened;
+but Philip put on a bold face, and said that Bob was a liar, and that
+there wasn't a word of truth in what he had said. The fact that he was
+caught stealing Mr. Leatherby's grapes showed that he was a fellow not
+to be believed; for if he was mean enough to steal, he would not
+hesitate to lie.
+
+Deacon Hardhack called upon Paul. "I have been requested by the
+committee to call and see you. They wish you to take charge of the
+singing again," he said, with some confusion of manner; and added,
+"Perhaps we were hasty in the matter when we asked you to sit down
+stairs, but we are willing to let bygones be bygones."
+
+"Am I to understand that there is no suspicion against me?" Paul asked.
+
+"Yes--sir--I suppose so," said the Deacon, slowly and hesitatingly.
+
+"Then you may say to the committee that I will do what I can to make the
+singing acceptable as a part of the service," Paul replied.
+
+There was a hearty shaking of hands with Paul, by all the choir, at the
+rehearsal on Saturday night. They were glad to meet him once more, and
+when they looked upon his frank, open countenance, those who for a
+moment had distrusted him felt that they had done him a great wrong. And
+on Sunday morning how sweet the music! It thrilled the hearts of the
+people, and they too were ashamed when they reflected that they had
+condemned Paul without cause. They were glad he was in his place once
+more. Mr. Surplice in his prayer gave thanks that the peace and harmony
+of the congregation was restored, and that the wicked one had not been
+permitted to rule. When he said that, Mr. Cannel wondered if he had
+reference to Deacon Hardhack. Everybody rejoiced that the matter was
+settled,--even Miss Dobb, who did not care to have all the old things
+brought up.
+
+When the service was over, when Paul sat once more by his mother's side
+in their humble home, before the old fireplace, when he listened to her
+words, reminding him of all God's goodness,--how He had carried him
+through the trial,--Paul could not keep back his tears, and he resolved
+that he would always put his trust in God.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+KEEPING SCHOOL.
+
+
+The teacher of the New Hope school, engaged for the winter, proved to be
+a poor stick. He allowed the scholars to throw spit-balls, snap
+apple-seeds, eat molasses candy, pull each other's hair, and have fine
+frolics. Paul wished very much to attend school, to study Latin, and fit
+himself for College; but when he saw how forceless a fellow Mr. Supple
+was, he concluded that it would be lost time to attend such a school. He
+knew that knowledge is power, and he longed to obtain a thorough
+education. Sometimes, when he thought how much Judge Adams knew, and
+when he read books written by learned men, he felt that he knew next to
+nothing. But whenever he felt like giving up the contest with adverse
+circumstances, a walk in the fresh, cool, bracing air, or a night's
+sleep, revived his flagging spirit. The thought often came, "What would
+Daphne or Azalia say if they knew how chicken-hearted I am?" So his
+pride gave him strength. Though he did not attend school, he made rapid
+progress studying at home.
+
+Matters came to a crisis in the school, for one day the big boys--Bob
+Swift among others--carried Mr. Supple out of the school-house, dug a
+hole in a snow-drift, and stuck him into it with his head down and his
+heels up. Then they took possession of the school-house and played tag
+over the benches for the rest of the day. Mr. Supple did not attempt to
+enter the school-house again, but picked up his hat, went to his
+boarding-house, packed his trunk, and left town.
+
+After a week's vacation, Mr. Cannel, who was the school-agent, obtained
+another teacher,--a thin, pale-faced, quick-tempered young man,--Mr.
+Thrasher. "I'll bring them to their trumps," he said, when Mr. Cannel
+engaged him.
+
+"I intend to have order in this school. I shall lick the first boy who
+throws a spit-ball, or who does anything contrary to the rules of the
+school," said Mr. Thrasher, flourishing a raw hide, on the first
+morning. He read a long list of rules, numbered from one up to eighteen.
+Before he finished his rules, a little boy laughed, and caught a
+whipping. Before noon half a dozen were hauled up. There was a council
+of war at noon among the big boys, who, having had their own way, were
+determined to keep it. They agreed to give Mr. Thrasher a pitched
+battle. They had it in the afternoon; a half-dozen pounced upon the
+master at once, and after a short struggle put him out doors. They gave
+a grand hurrah, and pelted him with snowballs, and drove him up the
+street.
+
+There was great commotion in the town. Those who loved law and order
+were alarmed for the welfare of their children.
+
+"We must have a master who can rule them, or they will grow up to be
+lawless citizens," said Judge Adams.
+
+Mr. Cannel could find no one who was willing to teach the school.
+
+"I don't see why anybody who is competent to teach should be afraid to
+undertake the task," said Paul to Mr. Chrome, one day, as they talked
+the matter over.
+
+Mr. Chrome met Mr. Cannel that evening on the street. "If there is
+anybody who is competent to keep the school, it is Paul Parker," said
+Mr. Chrome, who had exalted ideas of Paul's ability to overcome
+difficulties.
+
+"I believe you," Mr. Cannel replied, and started at once to see Paul.
+
+"I will think of it, and let you know in the morning whether I will
+teach or not," was Paul's reply, after hearing what Mr. Cannel had to
+say.
+
+He talked the matter over with his mother.
+
+"It is a great undertaking, Paul; I cannot advise you," she said.
+
+When he offered his evening prayer, he asked that God would direct him.
+He thought upon the subject during the night. Could he carry it through?
+The scholars all knew him,--had been to school with him,--were his old
+friends and playmates. Bob Swift was a ringleader; and outside, not in
+the school, was Philip, who would make all the trouble he could. There
+was Miss Dobb, who would like to have picked him to pieces. There were
+others who would rejoice to see him fail. But would it not be glorious
+to succeed,--to triumph over Miss Dobb? But that was an unworthy motive,
+and he put the thought out of his mind. He resolved to undertake the
+task, and try to do good,--to guide and mould the minds of the
+scholars,--those who were to be men and women, who were to act an
+important part in life, and who were to live not only here, but in
+another world,--who, he hoped, would be companions of the angels. Would
+it not be worth while to aid in overcoming evil, in establishing law and
+order,--to inculcate a love of virtue, truth, and honor?
+
+It would require nerve, energy, patience, and wisdom. "I'll try it," he
+said to himself, after looking at all sides.
+
+When it was known that Paul was going to try his hand at school-keeping
+the big boys chuckled. "We'll sweeten him," said Bob, rubbing his hands,
+and anticipating the glorious fun they would have.
+
+Conscious that he had a task before him which would try him severely,
+Paul yet went bravely to his work, locking the door as he entered the
+school-room, and putting the key in his pocket. The big boys looked at
+each other, somewhat amazed, each anxious to see what the others thought
+of it. He walked deliberately to his desk. "It is always best to begin
+an undertaking rightly," said Paul, standing erect and looking calmly
+round the room. "There is no better way than to ask our Heavenly Father
+to direct us, and so we will all repeat the Lord's Prayer," he said and
+waited till the room was so still that the scholars could almost hear
+the beating of their hearts. The stillness filled them with awe. After
+prayer he addressed them,--not alluding to anything which had taken
+place, but simply saying that he had been employed to teach them, and
+should do what he could to make the school-room a pleasant place to all.
+He expected that they would obey whatever rules were necessary for the
+good of the school, but did not threaten them with punishment.
+
+It was so unlike what they had expected that the big boys did not know
+what to make of it, or how to take it. Bob could not decide whether it
+was best to begin a war, or wait till something happened, and then have
+a grand battle. So the forenoon passed without any disturbance.
+
+Philip saw Bob at noon. "You are a coward, Bob, or you would have
+pitched Paul heels over head out of the door. I would if I were there,
+and so would you if you had as much gumption as an old setting hen. I
+thought you were going to 'sweeten him,'" he said, with a sneer.
+
+"So I am," said Bob, nettled at the taunt, and resolving to drive Paul
+out in the afternoon.
+
+When Paul entered the school-room after dinner, he saw at a glance that
+there was mischief ahead. The whole school was on tip-toe. He locked the
+door, and again put the key in his pocket. Bob was standing in the
+middle of the floor with his hat on.
+
+"Take off your hat, Master Swift, and go to your seat," said Paul.
+
+"I sha'n't do it," said Bob,--who the next instant went spinning round
+the room, tumbling over a chair, falling upon the floor, finding himself
+picked up and thrown against a desk, then having his heels tripped up,
+and then set to whirling so fast that the room seemed all windows. He
+was cuffed backward and forward, to the right and the left, pitched
+headlong, and jerked back again so suddenly, that he lost his breath. He
+was like a little child in the hands of a giant. He was utterly
+powerless. One of the other boys sprang to help him, but was met by a
+blow between his eyes which knocked him to the floor. A second started,
+but when he saw what had happened he sat down. Bob's brain was in a
+whirl. His ears were tingling. He saw stars, and it seemed as if all
+his hair had been torn out by the roots. He heard Paul say, once more,
+calmly, as at first, "Take your seat, Master Swift." He hesitated a
+moment, but when, through the blinking stars, he saw how cool and
+decided Paul was, standing there as if nothing had happened,--when he
+saw the boy who had started to aid him sprawling on the floor, and the
+others who had promised to help put Paul out of doors sitting in their
+seats,--he knew that it was of no use to resist. He took his seat and
+sat all the afternoon wondering at Paul's strength. Paul was surprised
+to find himself so powerful and athletic; but then he remembered that he
+had right on his side, which always helps a man.
+
+The victory was won. The school felt that he was their master. Yet he
+had a pleasant smile. When they were tired of study he said, "I see that
+you are getting dull and need stirring up." Then he told them a story
+which set them all laughing, and so made them forget that they were
+tired and sleepy.
+
+At night he had a talk with Bob all alone, telling him that he ought to
+be a good boy for his poor old mother's sake. That touched Bob in a
+tender place, for he loved his mother, and was a good-hearted fellow,
+but had allowed Philip to twist him round his little finger.
+
+"For her sake, Bob, I want you to be good; I will help you all I can,"
+said Paul. It was spoken so kindly and frankly that Bob knew Paul meant
+it. "Cut loose from those who advise you to do wrong, and tell them that
+you are going to do right," said Paul, as they parted for the night.
+
+"I will," said Bob, who, as he thought it all over that night, and
+recalled the kind words, felt that Paul would be his best friend if he
+did right.
+
+"I must get Azalia and Daphne to help me make a man of Bob," said Paul
+to himself,--"they can do what I can't."
+
+He called upon Azalia. There was a bright fire on the hearth in the
+sitting-room, but the smile on her face, he thought, was more pleasant
+to see.
+
+"I am glad you have conquered," she said.
+
+"I don't know that I have done so, yet; when I can feel that they all
+love me, then I may begin to think that it is a victory. I have had a
+talk with Bob. He is a good fellow, but under bad influences. I want you
+to help me. If we can make him respect himself, we shall make a man of
+him."
+
+"I will do what I can," said Azalia.
+
+When Paul went away she sat down by the window and watched him till he
+was out of sight. "How thoughtful he is for the welfare of others!" was
+the thought which passed through her mind. Then she gazed upon the red
+and purple clouds with gold and silver linings, and upon the clear
+sunset sky beyond, till the twilight faded away, and the stars came out
+in the heavens. Paul's words were ringing in her ears,--"I want you to
+help me." Yes, she would help him, for he was trying to make the world
+better.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+RALLYING ROUND THE FLAG.
+
+
+There came a gloomy day to the people of New Hope,--that gloomiest of
+the year, of all the years,--that on which they received the astounding
+intelligence that Fort Sumter had been attacked by the people of South
+Carolina, and that Major Anderson commanding it, with his little
+company, had been compelled to surrender. News so startling brought all
+the people into the streets. They assembled around the telegraph office,
+where Mr. Magnet read the despatch; how the attack had been made at
+daybreak on Friday, the 12th of April, all the batteries which General
+Beauregard had erected opening fire upon the half-starved garrison; how
+shot and shell were rained upon the fort, from Moultrie, from the guns
+on Morris Island, and from the floating battery which the Rebels had
+built; how Major Anderson coolly ate his breakfast; how Captain
+Doubleday fired the first gun in reply; how the cannonade went on all
+day, the great guns roaring and jumping; how the fight commenced again
+next morning; how the barracks were set on fire by the shells from the
+Rebel guns; how manfully the garrison fought against the flames, rolling
+kegs of powder into the sea to prevent their exploding; how the soldiers
+were scorched by the heat and almost suffocated by the smoke; how the
+flag-staff was shot away; how the flag was nailed to the broken mast;
+how the brave little band held out till their powder was almost
+exhausted, and till there was nothing to eat but raw salt pork; how at
+last, after thirty-six hours' fighting, Major Anderson surrendered the
+fort, saluting his flag as he hauled it down, carrying it away with him,
+being permitted to sail with his company to New York; and how the
+President had called for seventy-five thousand men to suppress the
+rebellion. The people held their breath while Mr. Magnet was reading,
+and when he had finished looked at one another in mournful silence. The
+flag of their country was trailed in the dust, and dishonored in the
+sight of the nations. They could not have felt worse if they had lost a
+dear friend by death.
+
+"The country is gone, gone, gone," said Judge Adams, wiping the tears
+from his eyes.
+
+"I reckon not, Judge," said Colonel Dare, "the people will have
+something to say about this insult to the flag. They will wipe out the
+disgrace by sweeping those scoundrels into the sea." The Colonel usually
+looked on the bright side of things. He recalled the trainings of other
+days, when his regiment paraded on the green and had a sham-fight. He
+wished that he were once more in command; he would march to Charleston,
+burn the city, and sow it with salt.
+
+"The question is, whether a sovereign State has not a right to secede if
+she chooses," said Mr. Funk,--for he and Philip were the only persons in
+New Hope who were not sorrowful over the intelligence. Mr. Funk was a
+native of Virginia, and had much to say about the superiority of
+Southern gentlemen over all other men,--how noble and chivalric they
+were.
+
+"I am glad that the President has called for seventy-five thousand men
+to crush the vipers," said the Colonel.
+
+"He can't do it. It won't be constitutional. You can't coerce a
+sovereign State," said Mr. Funk.
+
+"We will do it. Let me tell you, Mr. Funk, that this is a government of
+the people,--the whole people,--and that the old flag which has been
+stricken from the walls of Sumter shall go up there, if it takes a
+million of men to put it there!"
+
+"You can't do it. One Southerner can whip five Yankees any day," said
+Philip.
+
+Colonel Dare took no notice of what Philip said. And he was too much
+depressed by the news to enter into an argument with Mr. Funk upon the
+right of a State to secede from the Union.
+
+One by one the people went to their homes, meditating upon what they had
+heard, and wondering what next would happen. They could not work; they
+could only think of the terrible event.
+
+What a gloomy day it was to Paul Parker! He went home, sat down before
+the fire, and looked into the glowing coals. The gun which his
+grandfather carried at Bunker Hill, and which in his hands had brought
+down many a squirrel from the highest trees, was hanging in its usual
+place. He felt like shouldering it and marching for Charleston. He
+recalled the stories which his grandfather had told him there upon the
+hearth, of Bunker Hill and Saratoga. Many times he had wished that he
+had lived in those glorious days, to be a patriot, and assist in
+securing the independence of America. But now the work which his
+grandfather and the Revolutionary sires had accomplished seemed to be
+all lost. It made him sick at heart to think of it. Would the people
+resent the insult which South Carolina had given to the flag? What would
+the President do? What if he did nothing? What would become of the
+country? What would become of liberty, justice, truth, and right? O, how
+hard it was to see them all stricken down,--to think that the world was
+turning backward! He looked into the coals till he could see great
+armies meeting in battle,--houses in flames, and the country drenched in
+blood. He sat motionless, forgetful of everything but the terrible
+intelligence and the gloomy future. What part should he take in the
+contest? What could he do? The President had called for men to help
+raise the flag once more upon the walls of Sumter; could he leave his
+home, his mother, his friends? These were trying questions; but he felt
+that he could go wherever duty called him.
+
+Colonel Dare, as he reflected upon what had happened, saw that the
+people needed stirring up to sustain the President; that the Rebellion
+must be put down, or there would be an end of all government. He
+resolved to get up a public meeting. "We will have it this evening, and
+you must be chairman," he said to Judge Adams.
+
+He called upon Rev. Mr. Surplice. "I want you to open the meeting by
+prayer," he said, "for these are sober days. We need God's help. If we
+ask Him, He will help us. And you must make a speech. Come down on the
+Rebels," he added, with sudden indignation; "curse them, as David cursed
+the enemies of God. You, who are watchman on the walls of Zion, must
+lead off, and the people will follow. Their hearts are burning within
+them; the kindlings are laid; strike the match now, and there will be
+such a flame of patriotism as the world never saw."
+
+"We shall want singing," he said to Paul. "You must get that up."
+
+He engaged Mr. Tooter to be there with his fife, and Mr. Noggin with his
+drum. These two were old companions on training days. They had drank
+many glasses of cider together, and had played "Yankee Doodle," and "The
+Campbells are coming," and "Saint Patrick's Day in the Morning," on
+many occasions.
+
+"We shall expect some resolutions and a speech from you," he said to
+Squire Capias.
+
+Thus he laid out the work, and entered upon it with so much zeal, that
+all hands caught the spirit of his enthusiasm. Judge Adams, who had been
+very much depressed, became more cheerful, and thought over what he
+should say upon the occasion. Rev. Mr. Surplice looked through the
+Psalms and Isaiah and the New Testament to find the Scripture most
+appropriate to read. Squire Capias sat down by his round table in his
+dingy office, ran his fingers through his long black hair, and thought
+over his speech. Paul and Azalia, with Hans, went to Colonel Dare's,
+and, with Daphne, rehearsed the "Star-Spangled Banner," and "America,"
+while Mr. Noggin put a new cord into his drum, which had been lying for
+months in his garret, and was covered with dust.
+
+Evening came. The sexton rang the bell of the church,--not soberly and
+steadily, but he tugged with all his might at the rope, throwing the
+bell over and over,--ringing as if the whole town was in a blaze. The
+farmers out on the hills heard it, and came driving furiously into the
+village to see what was the matter.
+
+Mr. Tooter and Mr. Noggin, with Mr. Chrome, who had a new flag, walked
+out upon the parade-ground. The musicians struck up Yankee-Doodle. How
+it stirred the hearts of everybody,--the sharp, shrill notes of the
+fife,--the roll, the rattle, and the rat-a-tat-tat of the drum, and the
+clanging of the bell, and the sight of that flag, its crimson folds and
+fadeless stars waving in the evening breeze! Never had it looked so
+beautiful. The little boys swung their caps and cheered, the women waved
+their handkerchiefs, and the men hurrahed in an outburst of wild
+enthusiasm. Then they formed in procession with Colonel Dare for
+marshal,--the music and the flag in advance, Rev. Mr. Surplice, Judge
+Adams, and Squire Capias next, and then all the citizens, marching round
+the public square to the church, filling the house, the pews, the
+aisles, the entry, and hanging like a swarm of bees around the windows.
+
+Judge Adams forgot all his despondency, while Mr. Surplice, who was
+getting a little prosy as a preacher, was as full of fire as in his
+younger days. Mr. Capias was so eloquent that the people stamped till
+the house fairly shook with applause. He ended with resolutions,
+pledging the support of the people of New Hope to the government,--their
+lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor towards suppressing the
+Rebellion. But more thrilling than all the eloquence of the evening was
+the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner, by Azalia, Daphne, Paul, and
+Hans. They stood on the platform in front of the pulpit, Azalia and
+Daphne with flags in their hands. How sweet their voices! How inspiring
+the moment when they sang:
+
+"And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave O'er the land of the
+free and the home of the brave!"
+
+Men threw up their hats, women waved their handkerchiefs, and all
+cheered and shouted, while many shed tears, as they looked upon the
+banner of their country, which had been so insulted and despised. There,
+in the place where they met on the Sabbath to worship God, they resolved
+that, let it cost what it might of money, of sacrifice, or of life, the
+old flag should once more wave in triumph upon the walls of Fort
+Sumter,--that the Rebellion should be subdued and the traitors
+punished.
+
+That was an ever memorable night to Paul. Alone in his chamber, lying on
+his bed, whence he could look out, as in childhood, upon the stars, he
+thought upon what had happened at Fort Sumter, and of the meeting in the
+church at New Hope, and how he had pledged himself with the rest to
+stand by the flag of his country. The water by the mill was repeating
+the soul-stirring song, which Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and himself had
+sung. The maples, elms, and all the forest-trees, like a multitudinous
+chorus of a great and mighty people, were saying, "It shall wave--shall
+wave--over the home of the brave!"
+
+But men were wanted. The President had called for them. Ought he not to
+be one of the seventy-five thousand? Would not his grandfather, if
+alive, point to the old gun, and say, "Go, Paul, your country calls
+you?" Were not all who have died for liberty, justice, truth, and right
+calling upon him to do his duty? Were not the oppressed everywhere
+looking to him? What answer could he give to the millions yet to be, if
+in his old age they were to question him as to what part he bore in the
+great struggle? Thus the voices of the ages propounded solemn
+questions--voices of earth and heaven--of his duty to his country and to
+God. But how could he leave his home, his mother, his friends, his
+school, the choir, Azalia, Daphne, Hans, and give up the dear
+associations of the place? What if he should fall in battle? Could he
+meet death face to face? But then he remembered that the path of duty,
+though it may lead through dangers, though it may lead to the death of
+the body, is the way by which peace comes to the soul. It was the most
+solemn moment of his life, for God was questioning him. He heard not
+only the voices of the past, and of the winds, the water, and of his
+country, calling him to do his duty as a patriot, but there was a still,
+small voice talking of sins committed and duties neglected; of a lie
+which he had told in childhood, and which had burned through all the
+years like a red-hot iron, leaving a crisped and blackened scar upon his
+soul. How could he be at peace? How ease the pain? Tears of anguish
+rolled down his cheeks. He turned and tossed in agony, wishing that the
+scar could be cut away, and that he could be made fit to dwell with the
+angels. But in his agony he heard another voice saying, "Come unto me,
+and I will give you rest."
+
+They were no longer tears of sorrow which wet his pillow, but of joy,
+for he saw that Jesus, having carried the cross up to Calvary, was able
+and willing also to bear his burden. What a friend,--to take away all
+his sin, and leave no scar, no pain, no sorrow! He would serve such a
+friend with his whole soul. He would do his duty, whatever it might be.
+For such a friend, he could go through all dangers and win his way to
+victory. For him he would live, and for him he would die, if need be, to
+save his country.
+
+"Go, my son,--your country calls you, and God will take care of you,"
+said his mother in the morning, when he told her that he thought it his
+duty to enlist.
+
+"I have decided to be a volunteer, and shall spend a half-hour with the
+school and then dismiss it, and this will be my last day as a teacher,"
+said Paul to the school committee, as he went for the last time to the
+school-house. It was hard to part with those who were dear to him. He
+had been so kind and gentle, and yet so firm and just, that all the
+scholars loved him.
+
+"You may lay aside your books, I have not time to hear your
+lessons,"--he said, and then talked of what had happened,--said that the
+flag had been insulted, that justice, law, religious liberty, truth, and
+right had been overthrown, and that, unless the Rebellion was put down,
+they would have no country, no home,--that God and his country called
+him, and he must go. The issues at stake were not only worth living for,
+but they were worth dying for, if they could be secured in no other way.
+It was a duty to fight for them. How hard it was to say "Good by!" They
+would meet again, but perhaps not in this world. His voice trembled;
+there was weeping around the room. When he dismissed them, they had no
+heart to play; they could only think how good and kind he was, and how
+great their loss; and in imagination, looking into the gloomy future,
+beheld him in the thickest of the fight upon the battle-field.
+
+The whole country was aflame with patriotism. The drum-beat was heard
+not only in New Hope, but in every city and village of the land. There
+was a flag on almost every house. Farmers left their ploughs in the
+unfinished furrows; the fire of the blacksmith's forge went out;
+carpenters laid down their planes; lawyers put aside their cases in the
+courts,--all to become citizen soldiers and aid in saving the
+country,--assembling in squads, companies, and regiments at the
+county-seats.
+
+He called upon Rev. Mr. Surplice. "The Lord be with you, to guide,
+protect, and bless you," said the good man as he bade Paul farewell. It
+was a blessing and a benediction which followed Paul all the day, which
+comforted and strengthened him, when he reflected that he might be
+bidding a last farewell to his friends.
+
+He was surprised to find that everybody was his friend; that all bade
+him God speed,--all, except Mr. Funk and Philip. It was evening when he
+called upon Azalia. He had shaken hands with Daphne and Hans, and others
+of his associates. The train would bear him away in the morning. Azalia
+came tripping down the path, holding out both hands to meet him at the
+gate. She greeted him with a sad smile. "You are not going away to the
+war, are you?" she asked with faltering voice.
+
+"Yes, Azalia, and I have come to bid you good by!"
+
+"Do you think it your duty to go and leave your mother? It will be hard
+for her to give you up; she will miss you very much, and we shall all
+miss you."
+
+"I know that the old house will be lonesome,--that the days will be long
+and the nights dreary to my mother,--that she will listen to every
+approaching footstep and think perhaps it is mine. I know, Azalia, that
+possibly I may never return; I feel that perhaps this is the last time I
+may ever take you by the hand; but I feel that God and my country both
+are calling me, and that I must go."
+
+"But what if you are killed on the battle-field! O Paul, it is dreadful
+to think of!"
+
+"I would rather die there while doing what I feel to be my duty, than
+remain here shirking responsibility. Last night I heard the voices of
+the past calling me, and I seemed to see the myriads who are to come
+after us beckoning me. I know it is my duty to go. You would not have me
+falter, would you, Azalia?"
+
+She could not reply. Her voice choked with emotion; she had not expected
+such a question. Tears came into her eyes, and she turned away to hide
+them.
+
+"I could not go without coming to see you, to thank you for all your
+kindness to me; you have been always a faithful and true friend. God
+bless you for all you have done for me! I know your goodness of heart,
+and I hope that, when I am gone, you will sometimes go in and comfort my
+mother, and shorten the hours for her; for your smile is always like the
+sunshine, and it will cheer her."
+
+"I will do what I can to make her forget that you are gone."
+
+"And you will not wholly forget me."
+
+"I shall never forget you," she replied; then, looking steadily upon
+him, with a strong effort to keep down her emotion, said, "Paul, I have
+heard that there are many dangers in camp; that soldiers sometimes
+forget home and old friends, and become callous and hardened to good
+influences; that they lose sight of heaven and things holy and pure amid
+the new duties and strange excitements. But for the sake of those who
+respect and honor and love you, you will not give way to vice, will you?
+I know you will not, for my sake."
+
+"For your sake, Azalia, if for no other reason, I will resist evil, and
+I will try to serve God and my country faithfully in all things, so that
+if I come back, or if I fall in battle, you will not be ashamed of
+having once been my friend."
+
+She touched her sweet lips to his forehead, saying, "I have nothing else
+to give you for such a promise. Remember that it came from your old
+friend, Azalia."
+
+His heart was full. He had braved himself to say farewell to all his
+friends without shedding a tear, but his courage was faltering. How
+could he go, perhaps never to return! He wanted to say more. He wanted
+to sit down at her feet and worship such goodness; but he could only
+dash away the tears, look for a moment into her eyes, drink in the sad
+smile upon her face, leave a kiss upon her cheek, press her a moment to
+his heart, and say, "God bless you, Azalia!"
+
+He turned hastily away, and passed through the gate. He cast one glance
+behind, and beheld her standing in the gravelled walk, her chestnut hair
+falling upon her shoulders, and the setting sun throwing around her its
+golden light. She waved him an adieu, and he passed on, thinking of her
+as his good angel. When far away, pacing his lonely beat at dead of
+night, he would think of her and behold her as in that parting hour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+A SOLDIER.
+
+
+He was a soldier in camp, wearing a blue uniform, sleeping in a tent,
+wrapped in a blanket, with a knapsack for a pillow. He had voluntarily
+given up the freedom of home, and was ready to yield obedience to
+military rule. He could not pass the guard without a permit. When the
+drum beat, he must spring to his feet. He was obliged to wear a
+knapsack, a cartridge-box, a canteen, and a bayonet scabbard, and carry
+a gun, not always as he would like to carry it, but as ordered by the
+officer in command. He was obliged to march hour after hour, and if he
+came to a brook or a muddy place, instead of turning aside and passing
+over on stepping-stones or upon a fallen tree, he must go through
+without breaking the ranks. His companions were not altogether such as
+he liked to associate with. Some were very profane, and used indecent
+language. There was one great, over-grown Dutchman, Gottlieb von Dunk,
+who smoked nearly all the time when awake, and who snored terribly when
+asleep. But he was a good-hearted fellow for all that, and had a great
+many pleasant stories to tell.
+
+It was inspiring to hear the drum and fife, the blast of the bugle, and
+the playing of the band. It was glorious to look upon the star-spangled
+banner, waving in the breeze; but the excitement soon wore away. There
+were rainy days, comfortless and cheerless. Sometimes the rations were
+not fit to be eaten, and there was grumbling in the camp. There were
+days of homesickness, when the soldiers longed to break away from the
+restraints of camp life, and be free once more.
+
+The regiment in which Paul enlisted was ordered to Cairo, in Illinois,
+where it joined several others. When the men were enlisted, they
+expected to march at once upon the Rebels, but week after week passed
+by, spring became summer, and summer lengthened into autumn, and there
+was no movement of the troops. The ardor of their patriotism died out.
+It was a monotonous life, waking early in the morning to answer
+roll-call, to eat breakfast of salt pork and hard-tack, drilling by
+squads, by companies, by battalion, marching and countermarching, going
+through the same manoeuvres every day, shouldering, ordering, and
+presenting arms, making believe load and fire, standing on guard,
+putting out their lights at nine o'clock at night,--doing all this, week
+after week, with the Rebels at Columbus, only twenty miles down the
+river. It was very irksome. Sometimes Paul's heart went back to New
+Hope, as the dear old times came crowding upon him; but he had learned
+to be patient. He knew that it was necessary for soldiers to become
+disciplined. He had enlisted for the war, he gave his whole attention to
+doing his duty, and received his reward by being made a sergeant. He
+kept his gun clean, his equipments in good order, and he was always in
+his place. So prompt was he, that his commander nicknamed him Sergeant
+Ready. He was as ready to play a game of football, or to run a race, as
+he was to appear in the ranks at drill. When off duty, instead of idling
+away his time, he was studying the tactics, learning not only his duty
+as a sergeant, but what it would be if he were a lieutenant or a
+captain.
+
+The camp of his regiment was near the town, on the bank of the
+Mississippi, where he saw the great steamboats pass down the Mississippi
+from St. Louis, and down the Ohio from Louisville and Cincinnati, with
+thousands of troops on board, with the flags and banners streaming, the
+bands playing, and the soldiers cheering. It was pleasant to stand upon
+the levee, and behold the stirring scenes,--the gunboats commanded by
+the brave and good Admiral Foote, the great eleven-inch guns peeping
+from the portholes,--but Paul longed for active life. He rejoiced when
+he heard that his regiment was ordered to leave the Ohio River and go
+down toward Columbus on a reconnoitring expedition. The soldiers were so
+happy that they threw up their caps and gave a loud hurrah.
+
+With their haversacks full of hard-tack and cold boiled beef, carrying
+their tin cups and plates, their cartridge-boxes full of cartridges,
+they embarked on one of the great steamboats, and floated down the
+river. They were exhilarated with the thought that they were to have new
+and untried experiences,--that perhaps there would be a battle. They
+paced the deck of the steamboat nervously, and looked carefully into the
+woods along the river-bank to see if there were any Rebel scouts lurking
+behind the trees.
+
+Six miles below Cairo is a place called Old Fort Jefferson, where many
+years ago the white settlers built a fort, and where they had a battle
+with the Indians. The Essex gunboat, Captain Porter, was lying there,
+swinging at her anchors in the stream. A sailor paced the deck in a
+short blue jacket, who had a spy-glass in his hand, and kept a sharp
+lookout down the river, for there were two Rebel gunboats below in the
+bend.
+
+The regiment landed on the Kentucky side, where a narrow creek comes
+down from the hills through a wild ravine. Suddenly there was a cry of
+"There they come! the Rebel gunboats." Paul looked down the river, and
+saw two dark-colored boats.
+
+"Heave anchor! Put on steam. Light up the magazines. Pipe all hand to
+quarters! Lively!" were the orders on board the Essex.
+
+The boatswain blew his whistle, the drummer beat the long roll, and the
+sailors, who had been dozing about the decks, were instantly astir,
+weighing the anchors, running out the great guns, bringing up shot and
+shell from the hold, and clearing the deck for action. The great wheels
+turned, and the Essex swung out into the stream, and prepared to meet
+her antagonists. What an exciting moment! Paul felt the blood rush
+through his veins as he never felt it before. One of the approaching
+gunboats was suddenly enveloped in white smoke. He heard a screaming in
+the air, coming nearer and nearer, and growing louder and louder and
+more terrifying. He felt a cold chill creep over him. He held his
+breath. He was in doubt whether it would be better to get behind a tree,
+or lie down, or take to his heels. He could see nothing in the air, but
+he knew that a shot was coming. Perhaps it might hit him. He thought of
+home, his mother, Azalia, and all the old friends. He lived years in a
+second. "I won't run," he said to himself, as the iron bolt came on.
+Crash! it went through a great oak-tree, shivering it to splinters, and
+flying on into the woods, cutting off branches, and falling to the
+ground at last with a heavy _thug!_ ploughing a deep furrow and burying
+itself out of sight. There was a roar of thunder rolling along the
+river-banks, echoing from woodland to woodland. Then the heavy
+eleven-inch gun of the Essex jumped up from the deck, took a leap
+backwards, almost jerking the great iron ringbolts from the sides of the
+ship, coming down with a jar which made her quiver from stem to stern,
+sending a shell, smoking and hissing, down stream, towards the Rebel
+gunboat, and striking it amidships, throwing the planks into the water.
+"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted the crew of the Essex. "Hurrah! Hurrah!"
+answered the soldiers on shore, dancing about and cheering. Another shot
+came screeching towards them as loud as the first; but it was not half
+so terrifying. Paul thought it was not worth while to be frightened till
+he was hurt, and so he stood his ground, and watched the firing till the
+Rebel gunboats turned towards Columbus and disappeared behind the
+distant headland, followed by Captain Porter, who kept his great guns
+booming till he was almost within range of the Rebel batteries at
+Columbus. He was a brave man, short and stout, with a heavy beard. His
+father commanded the United States ship Essex in 1812, and had a long,
+hard fight with two British ships in the harbor of Valparaiso, fighting
+against great odds, till his decks were slippery with blood, till nearly
+all of his guns were dismounted, when he was obliged to surrender.
+
+"The son is a chip of the old block," said Admiral Foote the next day to
+Captain Porter, commending his watchfulness and promptness to meet the
+enemy. Paul saw how necessary it was in military operations to be always
+on the watch, and he felt that it was also necessary to be calm and
+self-possessed when on the battle-field.
+
+The regiment took up its line of march, for a reconnoissance towards
+Columbus, along a winding path through the woods, passing log
+farm-houses, crossing creeks on log bridges. Paul noticed all the
+windings of the road, the hills, houses, and other objects, keeping
+count of his steps from one place to another, jotting it down on a slip
+of paper when the regiment came to a halt. They could not kindle a fire,
+for they were in the enemy's country, and each man ate his supper of
+hard-tack and cold beef, and washed it down with water from the creek.
+
+Paul was sitting on a log eating his supper, and looking about for a
+place to spread his blanket for the night, when the Colonel of the
+regiment came to him and said: "Sergeant Parker, it is very important
+that a reconnoissance be made to-night towards the enemy's lines. I hear
+that you are a good, faithful, and trustworthy soldier. Are you willing
+to take it?"
+
+"I have no desire to shirk any responsibility. If you wish me to go, I
+am ready," said Paul.
+
+"Very well; gain all the information you can, and report at daybreak,"
+said the Colonel.
+
+He went out alone in the darkness, past the pickets. And now that he was
+alone, and moving towards the enemy, he felt that he was engaged in a
+hazardous undertaking. He walked softly, crouching down, listening to
+every sound;--on through deep and gloomy ravines, through the dense
+forests, past farm-houses, where dogs were howling,--noticing all the
+objects, and picturing them in memory.
+
+"Halt! Who comes there?" shouted a voice. He heard the click of a
+gun-lock. It was a very dark night; stooping close to the ground, he
+could see an object by the roadside, immediately before him. He held his
+breath. What should he do? "Keep cool," said a monitor within. His heart
+had leaped into his throat, but it went back to its proper place. "Who
+comes there?" said the sentinel again.
+
+Instead of answering, he moved backward so softly and noiselessly that
+he could not hear his own footsteps.
+
+"What is the row?" he heard a Rebel officer ask of the sentinel.
+
+"There is a Yankee prowling about, I reckon," said the sentinel in a
+whisper, and added, "There he is."
+
+"Shoot him!" said the officer.
+
+There was a flash which blinded Paul. He heard the Minie bullet sing
+above him. He could see the dark forms of the two men. He had a revolver
+in his hand, and could have shot them, but he was there to gain
+information, and not to bring on a fight.
+
+"It is nothing but a stump, after all," said the officer.
+
+The report of the gun re-echoed far and near. The night was still, and
+he could hear other pickets talking out in the field on his right hand
+and on his left. How fortunate! He knew where they were, and now could
+avoid them. But ought he not to turn back? He resolved not to be
+frightened from his object. After lying still awhile, he went back along
+the road, then turned aside, walked softly from tree to tree, careful
+not to crackle a twig beneath his feet, crept on his hands and knees
+through the thick underbrush, and gained the road in the rear of the
+picket. Being inside of the enemy's lines, he knew that he could move
+more freely, for if any of the sentinels heard him they would think it
+one of their own number. He walked on, but suddenly found himself
+standing face to face with a dozen soldiers.
+
+"Well, Jim, are there any Yankees down there?" one asked.
+
+"The sentinel thought he saw a Yankee, but I reckon he fired at a
+stump," said Paul, passing boldly by them to their rear.
+
+He now saw that he was in a Rebel camp. There were smouldering fires,
+tents, a cannon, baggage-wagons, and horses which were munching their
+grain. What should he do? He felt that he was in a critical situation.
+If taken, he would be hung as a spy. He stood still and reflected a
+moment, to calm his nerves. He had blundered in, perhaps he might get
+out. He would try; but as he was there, ought he not to improve the
+opportunity to find out all about the camp, how large it was, how many
+men there were? He counted the baggage-wagons and the tents. He almost
+stumbled over a man who was wrapped in his blanket. It was an officer
+sound asleep, with his sword by his side. He was sleeping so deeply that
+Paul ventured to take the sword, for he thought, unless he carried
+something back as evidence, his report would not be believed. And then
+he crept back past the grand guard, and past the sentinels, sometimes
+crawling an inch at a time, then stepping as noiselessly as a cat in
+search of her prey, till he was past them all. He was surprised to find
+how cool and self-possessed he was, how clear his brain, and how wide
+awake were all his faculties. He was as light-hearted as a bird in
+spring-time, for even in the darkness, while he was dimly discerning
+what was around him, he saw Azalia, as he last beheld her in the
+gravelled walk before her home, waving him on! At daybreak he reached
+the lines once more. The Colonel heard his story, and was in doubt about
+its truth; but when he saw how accurate a map Paul drew, and that the
+sword was marked C. S. A., for the Confederate States of America,--when
+he saw how modest and straightforward Paul was in all that he did,--he
+said, "Sergeant Parker, I shall inform General Grant that you have done
+your duty faithfully."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+SCOUTING.
+
+
+"Sergeant Parker is hereby ordered to report immediately at General
+Grant's Headquarters," was the order which Paul received the next
+morning. He wondered what General Grant could want of him. He entered
+the General's tent, and saw a short, thick-set, middle-aged man with
+sandy whiskers, sitting at a table, reading letters and smoking a cigar.
+He was dressed in a plain blue blouse, and as he had no straps on his
+shoulders, Paul thought he was the General's orderly.
+
+"Is General Grant about?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir," said the man, looking up pleasantly.
+
+"I should like to see him," said Paul.
+
+"I am General Grant."
+
+Paul was astonished to find a general so affable and pleasant, for he
+had seen some lieutenants and captains strut like turkey-cocks, because
+they wore straps on their shoulders. Paul saluted the General, and said,
+"I am ordered to report to you, sir."
+
+"O yes; you are Sergeant Parker, who made a reconnoissance last night;
+sit down, Sergeant, till I finish my letters." It was spoken so
+pleasantly and kindly, that Paul said to himself, "He is a gentleman."
+
+When the General had finished his letters he lighted another cigar, and
+questioned Paul about his adventures; how far it was to the Rebel camp,
+and how the camp was situated.
+
+"I will give you a sketch of the place," said Paul; and, sitting up to
+the table, he drew a map, putting down the creeks, the roads, the woods,
+the distances from point to point, the place where he came upon the
+pickets, the position of the tents, and all the objects he saw. The
+General sat in silence, smoking, and looking at Paul with a keen eye. It
+was drawn neatly and quickly, and with an accuracy which surprised the
+General. Paul had kept count of his steps from one object to another. By
+looking up to the stars he had kept the points of the compass, and knew
+whether he travelled south, or southeast, or southwest, and so he was
+able to draw an excellent map.
+
+"Where did you study topographical engineering?" the General asked.
+
+"By the kitchen fire," Paul replied.
+
+"A good college to graduate from, especially if a fellow has grit," said
+the General, smiling. "Are you willing to undertake a hazardous
+enterprise?" he asked.
+
+"I am willing to undertake anything for my country," Paul replied.
+
+The General then told him that he wished to obtain information about
+Fort Henry on the Tennessee River, and Fort Donelson on the Cumberland.
+He showed him the positions on a map, and said it was an undertaking of
+great importance, and which might cost him his life. "I will give you a
+trustworthy companion," said he.
+
+"I would rather attempt it alone, if you please. Two is one too many; it
+doubles our risk. If discovered by the Rebels, I couldn't help my
+comrade, neither could he help me. If we keep together, we shall have
+the same information. I think I shall succeed better alone," said Paul.
+
+"You are right," said the General, who told him that he might prepare
+for the trip, and that he would be sent up the Tennessee River on a
+gunboat, and put on shore a few miles from Fort Henry, and that he must
+return in ten days. "I hear a good report of you, and have confidence in
+you. I desire accurate information; for if it is not accurate, it may
+lead to very disastrous results," said the General.
+
+Two nights later, Paul stood alone on the bank of the Tennessee. The
+gunboat which had brought him was going back. He could hear the plashing
+of her wheels growing fainter each moment. He was in the enemy's
+country, on an undertaking which might cost him his life. If discovered,
+he would be hung. For an instant his heart failed him, and he felt that
+he must turn back; then he remembered that he had enlisted in the
+service of his country, to do his duty, whatever it might be. His duty
+was before him. He was upon the ground. Would not God take care of him?
+Was not the path of duty, although it might lead to death, the only path
+of safety? There are times when duty is worth more than life. "Whatever
+is right before the Eternal God, that I will do," said Paul to himself.
+His fear was gone. He resolved to be bold, yet cautious, and to keep his
+thoughts perfectly collected under all circumstances. He had succeeded
+in one reconnoissance, which made him hopeful; but he reflected that
+success often makes men careless, so he resolved to be always on his
+guard. He had changed his uniform for a pair of old butternut-colored
+pantaloons, a ragged coat, and a slouched hat which had a hole in the
+crown. He hardly recognized himself he was so altered in appearance. He
+wondered if Azalia or Daphne would know him. He had no weapon or
+equipments. There was nothing about him which indicated that he was a
+soldier of the Union army ready to lay down his life for the old flag.
+
+He walked cautiously along the winding path, noticing all the objects;
+looking up to the north star at every turn of the road, keeping tally of
+his steps that he might know the distance travelled. He walked
+stealthily, expecting every moment to hear the challenge of the Rebel
+pickets. He was startled by the cry, "Who! Who! Who!" He came to a
+sudden halt, and then laughed to think that he had been challenged by an
+owl.
+
+In the morning he came upon a party of men cutting wood, and found that
+they were Rebel soldiers outside of the picket line. Paul took an axe
+and went to work, and so became one of them. When they went into camp
+he accompanied them, carrying the axe on his shoulder, thus passing the
+picket as a wood-chopper. He found three or four thousand soldiers at
+Fort Henry, hard at work, throwing up breastworks, digging ditches,
+hewing timber, mounting guns. He worked with them, but kept his eyes and
+ears open, noticing the position of the fort on the bank of the river,
+and how many guns there were. He found out what troops were there, where
+they came from, and who commanded them. He learned that a wagon-train
+was going to Fort Donelson after ammunition. He joined it and passed the
+picket as one of the train guards. As the wagons were empty, he had a
+chance to ride, and thus saved a weary walk of twelve miles.
+
+The little town of Dover, which is near Fort Donelson, he found alive
+with troops; regiments were arriving from Arkansas, Mississippi, Texas,
+and Tennessee. General Pillow was there in command. He was once an
+officer in the army of the United States and fought in Mexico. General
+Floyd was there with a brigade of Virginians. He was Secretary of War
+when Buchanan was President, and did what he could to destroy the Union.
+He was a thief as well as a Rebel. He was a large, coarse man. Paul
+despised him, and could hardly restrain himself from knocking the
+villain from his horse when he saw him ride by wearing the uniform of a
+traitor. There was not much discipline in the Rebel army, and Paul found
+little difficulty in going through all the camps, ascertaining what
+regiments were there. It nettled him to hear the boasts of the soldiers
+that one Southerner could whip five Yankees, but he said nothing for
+fear of betraying himself. He obtained food at a sutler's tent. He was
+very tired and sleepy when the second night came, but he found a place
+to sleep at a house in the village.
+
+"What regiment do you belong to?" asked a girl with a sallow countenance
+and grimy hands.
+
+"I am a scout," said Paul.
+
+"Be you a scout? Wal, I hope you will run across Old Abe Linkum. If you
+do, jest take his _skelp_ for me." (She meant his scalp.)
+
+"Wal, if I _cotch_ him, I reckon I'll _skelp_ him," said Paul,
+flourishing his knife, as if he was ready for such bloody work.
+
+"The Yanks are a set of vagabonds; they are the meanest critters on
+airth," said the woman. "They'll hang you if they cotch you."
+
+"I reckon I won't let 'em cotch me," said Paul.
+
+"Where be you gwine next?"
+
+"Down to Cairo, I reckon; though I go wherever the General sends me."
+
+"May be you would do a little chore for me,--get me some pins, needles,
+and thread?"
+
+"It is mighty skittish business, but I'll see what I can do," said Paul.
+
+Having obtained his information, his next business was to get away. He
+waited till the lights were put out in the camps at night, then, walking
+down to the river he found a small boat, jumped in and pushed out into
+the stream. He could see the sentinels on the parapet of the fort as he
+floated past, but they did not discover him. Paul congratulated himself
+that he was beyond the picket line when he heard a hail from both shores
+at the same time. "Boat ahoy!" He made no reply. "Boat ahoy! come ashore
+or I'll fire," said both sentinels. He saw that he could not escape by
+rowing. They would fire if he attempted to go ahead or turn back. If he
+went ashore, he would be taken to the guard-house, questioned, probably
+put into prison, perhaps tried as a spy. He resolved that he wouldn't
+go ashore. There was no time for deliberation. It was mid-winter; the
+air was keen, and there was floating ice in the river. If he remained in
+the boat he might be shot, so he lowered himself noiselessly into the
+water. How cold it was! He felt the chill strike through him, setting
+his teeth to chattering, and his limbs quivering. There was another
+hail, and then a flash on both shores. The balls went through the boat.
+He heard the stroke of oars, and saw a boat pushing out from the shore.
+He darted ahead, swimming noiselessly down stream, gradually nearing the
+shore, for his strength was failing. He heard the men in the boat say,
+"We are fooled, it is only an empty dug-out."
+
+How hard it was to climb the bank! He could not stand, he was so
+chilled. Once he rose to his feet, but tumbled like a log to the ground.
+He wanted to go to sleep, but he knew it would be his last sleep if he
+yielded. He drained the water from his boots, rubbed his legs, thrashed
+his hands, and then went reeling and blundering in the darkness over
+fallen trees. What a wearisome, cheerless night it was! How he longed
+for a fire,--a cup of warm coffee,--a comfortable bed! He thought of his
+own bed in the little old house at New Hope, and wished that he might
+lie there once more, and snuggle down beneath the warm comforters. His
+clothes were frozen, and notwithstanding he beat his hands till the
+blood dripped from his fingers, he could get up no warmth. "Halt! Who
+comes there?" was the sharp challenge which startled him from his
+dreaming. He was close upon a picket. He turned in an instant, and began
+to run. He heard footsteps following. The thought that he was pursued
+roused all his energies. The footsteps came nearer. Putting forth all
+his strength, holding his breath, Paul went on, stumbling, rising again,
+leaping, hearing the footsteps of his pursuer coming nearer; suddenly he
+came to a deep, narrow creek. He did not hesitate an instant, but
+plunged in, swam to the other bank, gained the solid ground, and dropped
+behind a tree just as his pursuer reached the creek. The Rebel stopped
+and listened, but Paul remained perfectly still, hardly daring to
+breathe, till he heard the fellow go back muttering to himself and
+cursing the creek. The running had warmed Paul, but he was exhausted and
+drenched once more. Daybreak came, and he did not dare to travel; so,
+finding some stacks of corn in a field, he tore one of them open, made
+a bed inside, drew the bundles over him, shivered awhile, and then
+dropped asleep.
+
+He awoke suddenly to find his house tumbling to pieces,--torn down by
+Rebel soldiers.
+
+"Hello! What's here? Who be ye? What are ye up to?" said a sergeant,
+startled to find a man under the bundles. "Deserter, eh? or a spy, I
+reckon," said the fellow, holding a pistol to Paul's head.
+
+"Better put up your shooting-irons," said Paul coolly.
+
+"Give an account of yourself, how ye came here, _whar_ ye have been, and
+_whar_ ye gwine."
+
+Paul noticed that he said _whar_ for where, and replied, "I am a scout,
+and have been down by the river _whar_ the Yankee gunboats is."
+
+"I don't believe it; you look like a scarecrow, but I reckon you are a
+Yankee spy," said the Sergeant. He searched Paul, but found nothing. He
+was commanding a cavalry foraging-party, and was a brutal, ignorant
+fellow, and had been drinking whiskey, and wanted to show that he had
+power. "Boys, bring a halter; I reckon I'll make this fellow confess
+that he is a Yankee."
+
+A soldier brought a rope; one end was thrown over the limb of a tree,
+and the other made into a slip-noose, and put round his neck; but he did
+not flinch. To confess that he was a spy was sure death. He was calm.
+For a moment his thoughts went back to his home. He thought of his
+mother and Azalia; but there was little time for such reflection. He did
+not feel that his work was done. "Wal, Sergeant, what be you gwine to
+do?" he asked.
+
+"Hang you as a spy," said the Sergeant.
+
+"What sort of a report will you make to the General? What do ye think he
+will do to you when he finds that you have hung one of his scouts?" Paul
+asked.
+
+"See here, Sergeant, I reckon your are a leetle too fast in this
+matter," said one of the soldiers.
+
+Paul saw that the time had come for a bold course on his part. He had
+already ascertained what regiment of cavalry they belonged to. He had
+seen their Colonel at Dover. "What do you suppose Colonel Forrest will
+say, when he hears of this proceeding of yours?" he asked.
+
+The Sergeant started at the mention of the name of his commander, and
+began to see the proceeding in a new light. Paul threw the noose from
+his neck and said, in a tone of authority: "I will report you, sir. I
+will have you arrested. I'll teach you to do your duty better than this.
+I am an officer. I know General Pillow, General Floyd, General Buckner,
+and Colonel Forrest. I am out on important business. You found me
+asleep, and instead of taking me to your superior officer, as you ought
+to have done, you proceed to hang me. You are drunk, sir, and I'll have
+you punished."
+
+The Sergeant was very much frightened. He saw how noble a countenance
+Paul had, and felt his tone of authority. "I didn't mean any harm, sir;
+I wanted to do my duty," said the Sergeant, taking off his hat, and
+holding down his head.
+
+"Because you are a sergeant, you wanted to show your authority," said
+Paul. "Now go about your business, all of you, and when I get to General
+Pillow's head-quarters I will see to your case."
+
+The soldiers who had gathered round started off at once to their work,
+while Paul walked towards Fort Donelson. He had gone but a few steps,
+when the Sergeant followed him, and, taking off his hat, said, "Please,
+Colonel, don't be too hard on me, I won't do so again."
+
+"It will be my duty to report you; but if you will promise to be more
+careful in the future I will tell the General when I make my report not
+to be too hard," said Paul.
+
+"I'll be more _keerful_ next time, and won't get drunk again, Colonel,
+never."
+
+"Very well," said Paul, walking on till he reached a piece of woods;
+then, turning from the path, he made his way towards the river again,
+wondering at his escape. He had a long walk through the woods, but when
+he reached the gunboats lying in the stream, how his heart leaped for
+joy!
+
+He kept all he had seen so well in memory, that when he reached Cairo he
+was able to draw an accurate plan of the forts and country around them.
+
+General Grant listened to his story with great interest, and when Paul
+had finished said, "You have performed your work acceptably; you
+understand topography; I wish to keep you at my head-quarters, and
+therefore appoint you a Lieutenant of Engineers."
+
+It was so unexpected a promotion, and such an expression of confidence,
+that Paul was very much confused, and could only say, while blushing
+very red, "I thank you, sir."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+MISSED FROM HOME.
+
+
+How lonesome it was in New Hope through all these days! Everybody missed
+Paul. He was missed by the school-children, for the teacher who
+succeeded him was cross and harsh, while Paul was always kind and
+pleasant. He was missed by the congregation on Sunday, for although Hans
+did his best as leader of the choir, he could not fill Paul's place. He
+was missed by his mother, who, through the long, wearisome days and
+lonely nights, thought only of him, her pride, her joy, her hope. How
+good Azalia was to visit the Post-office every morning to get the
+letters which Paul wrote to his mother, often finding one for herself!
+How pleasant to read what he wrote of life in camp! How thrilling the
+narrative of his adventures, his visit to the forts, his narrow escapes!
+As she read it, her heart stood still while the letter was wet with
+tears. What if the rebels had hung him! It was terrible to think of.
+What could she do to comfort him? How help him,--how relieve his
+sufferings and hardships? She would knit him a pair of gloves and
+stockings. But his comrades needed them as well as he. Why not ask
+Daphne to help? Why not ask all the girls to do something? So she
+thought the matter over through the long winter nights, planning a
+soldiers' sewing and knitting society.
+
+Pleasant gatherings they had in the vestry of the church on Wednesday
+afternoons working for the soldiers. Azalia's cheeks were flushed with
+rare beauty when she read Paul's letters to them with trembling voice.
+There were many moist eyes, for all felt that, if he and his comrades
+were undergoing such hardships and dangers for them, that they might
+have a home and a united country, they ought to do all they could in
+return; and so, while knitting stockings for the soldiers, their hearts
+were knit in deeper love and devotion to their country.
+
+But they had something besides Paul's adventures to talk about; for one
+Monday morning when Mr. Bond, the town treasurer, opened his office, he
+found that it had been entered by robbers, who had stolen all the
+money,--several thousand dollars. It was soon discovered that Philip
+Funk was missing. The sheriffs and constables set themselves to hunt
+him up. They got upon his track, followed him to the Ohio River, and
+across into Kentucky; but he was too swift for them, and succeeded in
+getting into the Rebel lines with the stolen money. Notwithstanding he
+was a robber, his sister Fanny held her head as high as ever. She did
+not attend the soldiers' aid society. She hoped that the South would
+succeed in establishing its independence, and was glad that Philip had
+gone to help the Southern soldiers. "I hope he will come across Paul,"
+said Fanny to Daphne Dare one day.
+
+"So do I, and I hope that Paul will shoot him," said Daphne, with
+flashing eyes. She had the spirit of her father, and added, "He is a
+traitor and a robber, and I hope somebody will shoot him."
+
+Fanny spit at the flag which hung over the street every time she passed
+it, to show her hatred of it. Daphne was very indignant, and proposed to
+her associates that they should compel Fanny to wave the stars and
+stripes; but Azalia said it would be a severer punishment to take no
+notice of her. "We might make her wave the flag, but that would not make
+her love it, and such forced loyalty would be of no value."
+
+So, acting upon Azalia's advice, all of the girls passed her by, taking
+no notice of her on the street, at the Post-office, or in church, not
+recognizing her by word or look. Fanny bore it awhile with a brazen
+face, but soon found it hard to have no one to speak to. The great want
+of the human heart in time of trouble is sympathy. Our wills may bear us
+up awhile, but sooner or later we must unburden our feelings, or feel
+the burning of a slow consuming fire, destroying all our peace and
+happiness. The days were cheerless to Fanny. If she walked out upon the
+street, she saw only the averted faces of her former friends. They would
+not speak to her, and if she addressed them they turned away without
+answering,--avoiding her as if she was infected with the plague. When
+the cold northeast storms came, when the clouds hung low upon the hills,
+when the wind howled in the woods, when the rain pattered upon the
+withered leaves, how lonesome the hours! She was haughty and
+self-willed, friendless and alone; but instead of becoming loyal and
+behaving like a good, sensible girl, she nursed her pride; and comforted
+herself by thinking that her great-grandfather Funk was a fine old
+Virginian gentleman. If a still, small voice whispered that it was mean
+and wicked in Philip to take money which did not belong to him, she
+quieted her conscience by the reflection that it was right for the
+Rebels to do all the damage they could to their enemies in securing
+their independence. When the storm was loudest, she rejoiced in the hope
+that some of the Yankee ships would be wrecked, or that the Mississippi
+River would overflow its bank and drown the Yankee regiments in their
+camps.
+
+Not so did Azalia listen to the storm. When the great drops rattled upon
+the roof and dashed against the windows, she thought of Paul and his
+comrades as rushing into battle amid volleys of musketry; the mournful
+sighing of the wind was like the wailing of the wounded. She thought of
+him as marching wearily and alone through the dismal forest to perform
+deeds of daring; she thought of him as keeping watch through the stormy
+nights, cold, wet, hungry, and weary; not for glory, or fame, or hope of
+reward, but because it was his duty. And these were not sad hours to
+her.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+THE MARCH.
+
+
+On Wednesday, the 12th of February, 1862, Paul found himself once more
+upon the road leading from Fort Henry to Fort Donelson, not now alone,
+but guiding an army of fifteen thousand men, with forty pieces of
+artillery. He was on horseback, and sat so well in the saddle that the
+cavalry-men said he rode like an old trooper. He was in uniform, and
+wore straps on his shoulders, and was armed with a sword and a revolver.
+He rode in advance of all, looking sharply into the thickets and down
+the ravines, to see if there were any Rebels in ambush.
+
+The sharpshooters followed him. They wore gray jackets and skull-caps,
+and were armed with rifles and long hunting-knives. They were famous
+hunters, and could shoot a deer upon the run, or bring down a
+prairie-chicken upon the wing. They were tough, hearty, jolly,
+courageous, daring fellows. They were in good spirits, for the rebels
+had fled in dismay from Fort Henry when the gunboats sent their shells
+into the fort.
+
+It was a hard march, for the roads were muddy, and they were obliged to
+wade through creeks although it was mid-winter. Paul noticed one brave
+fellow among them, whose feet were so sore that his steps were marked
+with blood, which oozed from a hole in the side of his shoe, and yet the
+man kept his place in the ranks.
+
+"Let me carry your gun," said Paul, and so, taking it across his saddle,
+helped the soldier. "You ought to be in the hospital," said Paul.
+
+"I can't stay behind if there is to be any fighting," said the soldier,
+thanking Paul for his kindness; and then, in a low tone, the soldier
+said to his comrade, "There a'n't many officers like him who will help a
+fellow."
+
+At sunset the army halted in the woods beside a brook. Tents had been
+left behind, and the soldiers had no shelter from the wintry air. They
+cut down great trees and kindled huge fires. The farmers in that part of
+the country had large herds of pigs, which roamed the woods and lived on
+nuts. The soldiers had lived on salt meats for many months, and,
+notwithstanding orders had been issued against committing depredations,
+they were determined to have a good supper. Crack! crack! crack! went
+their rifles. Some, instead of shooting, tried to catch the pigs. There
+were exciting chases, and laughable scenes,--a dozen men after one pig,
+trying to seize him by the ears, or by the hind legs, or by the tail.
+
+They had a charming time, sitting around the roaring fires, inhaling the
+savory odors of the steaks and spareribs broiling and roasting over the
+glowing coals on forked sticks, and of the coffee bubbling in their tin
+cups. The foot-sore sharpshooter whom Paul had helped on the march
+cooked a choice and tender piece, and presented it to Paul on a chip,
+for they had no plates. It was cooked so nicely that Paul thought he had
+never tasted a more delicious morsel.
+
+In the morning they had an excellent breakfast, and then resumed the
+march, moving slowly and cautiously through the woods, but finding no
+enemy till they came in sight of Fort Donelson.
+
+Paul had guided the army to the fort, but now he had other duties to
+perform. He was required to make a sketch of the ground around the fort,
+that General Grant might know where to form his lines,--on what hills
+to plant his cannon,--where to throw up breastworks for defence, should
+the rebels see fit to come out and attack him. Leaving his horse behind,
+Paul began his dangerous but important work on foot, that he might make
+an accurate map,--examining through his field-glass the breastworks of
+the rebels, counting their cannon, and beholding them hard at work. When
+night came he crept almost up to their lines. He was between the two
+armies,--a dangerous position, for the pickets on both sides were wide
+awake, and his own comrades might fire upon him before he could give the
+countersign. Although he stepped lightly, the sticks sometimes crackled
+beneath his feet.
+
+"Halt! Who goes there?" shouted a Rebel picket directly in front of him.
+It was so sudden, and he was so near, that Paul's hair stood on end. He
+darted behind a tree. Click! flash! bang! and a bullet came with a heavy
+_thug_ into the tree. Bang! went another gun,--another,--and another;
+and the pickets all along the rebel lines, thinking that the Yankees
+were coming, blazed away at random. The Yankee pickets, thinking that
+the rebels were advancing, became uneasy and fired in return. Paul
+could hear the bullets spin through the air and strike into the trees.
+His first thought was to get back to his comrades as soon as possible;
+then he reflected that it would be dangerous to attempt it just then.
+The firing woke up all the sleepers in the two armies. The drums were
+beating the long roll, the bugles were sounding, and he could hear the
+Rebel officers shouting to the men, "Fall in! fall in!" He laughed to
+think that the crackling of a stick had produced all this uproar. He
+wanted very much to join in the fun, and give the Rebel picket who had
+fired at him a return shot, but his orders were not to fire even if
+fired upon, for General Grant was not ready for a battle, and so, while
+the Rebels were reloading their guns, he glided noiselessly away. When
+he heard the bullets singing he expected to be hit; but as he was less
+than six feet high and only eighteen inches across his shoulders, and as
+it was dark and the soldiers were firing at random, he calculated that
+there was not one chance in a million of his being injured, and so
+through the night he went on with his reconnoissance along the lines,
+and completed the work assigned him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+THE BATTLE.
+
+
+In the morning he found General Grant in a little old farm-house, where
+he had established his head-quarters. He appeared to be pleased with the
+map which Paul made of the ground, and said to Major Cavender, who
+commanded the regiment of Missouri Artillery, "Place your guns on that
+hill, and be ready to open upon the fort." He issued orders to General
+McClernand to go round to the southwest side of the town; to General
+Wallace, to hold the centre of the line, west of the town; and to
+General Smith, to be ready to storm the fort on the northwest side.
+
+It was a beautiful morning. The air was mild, and the birds sang in the
+trees though it was mid-winter. The sharpshooters ate their breakfast
+before sunrise, and began the battle by exchanging shots with the Rebel
+pickets. Though Paul had been up all night, there was no time for rest.
+He was sent with orders to the artillery officers,--to Captain Taylor,
+Captain Dresser, and Captain Schwartz, telling them where to place their
+guns. As he rode over the hills and through the ravines, he passed the
+sharpshooters. Their rifles were cracking merrily. Among them was the
+soldier whom Paul had helped on the march. The soldier saluted him. Paul
+saw that he was not only foot-sore, but also sick.
+
+"You are not fit to go into battle; you ought to report to the surgeon,"
+said Paul.
+
+"I wouldn't miss of being in this scrimmage that we are going to have
+to-day for the best farm in Illinois," said the soldier.
+
+Just then, the rebel cannon opened, and the shells came crashing through
+the front. Major Cavender had wheeled his guns into position, and was
+sighting them. One of the shells struck at his feet, and ploughed a deep
+furrow in the ground. Another struck a poor fellow in the breast,
+whirled him into the air, spattering his blood upon those who stood
+around, killing him instantly. As Paul beheld the quivering flesh, the
+sight filled him with horror, and made him sick at heart. Such might be
+his fate before the day was done. He thought of home,--of his mother, of
+Azalia, and of the dear friends far away. He thought also of God, and
+the hereafter; but remembered that he was in the keeping of his Heavenly
+Father. He was there to do his duty, and if he was to meet with death,
+would meet it resolutely; and so, regaining his composure, rode calmly
+along the lines, acting as aid to General Grant doing the duties
+assigned him.
+
+The battle lasted through the day, but the fort was not taken. The
+gunboats which were to sail up the Cumberland River had not arrived, and
+the provisions which the troops brought from Fort Henry were nearly
+exhausted. The day which had been so bright and beautiful was succeeded
+by a dreary night. The wind blew from the northeast. A rainstorm set in,
+which changed to snow, and became one of the severest storms ever known
+in that section of the country. It was a terrible night for the wounded.
+They had no protection from the storm. Hundreds had fallen during the
+day. Some were lying where they fell, close up under the Rebel
+breastworks, amid the tangled thickets, the blood oozing from their
+wounds and staining the drifting snow. It was heart-rending to hear
+their wailings, and cries of distress, and calls for help. When morning
+came, many a brave soldier was frozen to the ground. When Paul saw the
+terrible suffering, he felt that he was willing to make any sacrifice to
+put a stop to such horrors. But then he remembered that Justice, Truth,
+and Righteousness are more valuable than human life, and that it is
+better to fight for them than to yield to injustice and wickedness.
+
+But now the hearts of the soldiers were cheered with the news that the
+gunboats were coming. Paul looked down the river and saw a cloud of
+black smoke hanging over the forest, rising from their tall chimneys.
+Steamboats loaded with provisions came with the fleet. The soldiers
+swung their caps, and made the air ring with their lusty cheers.
+
+What a magnificent sight it was when the gunboats steamed up the river
+and opened fire upon the fort, covering themselves with clouds of smoke
+and flame, and all of the guns in the fort replying! The storm had died
+away, the air was still, and the roar of the cannonade was like thunder.
+All along the lines the sharpshooters' rifles were ringing. The soldiers
+crouched behind trees and logs and hillocks, lying on their faces,
+picking off the Rebel gunners when they attempted to load their cannon.
+But the day passed and the fort was not taken. Saturday morning came,
+and the Rebels, finding themselves short of provisions, instead of
+waiting to be attacked, came out from the fort at daybreak, fifteen
+thousand strong, and made a sudden attack upon the Union army.
+
+A great battle followed, which lasted nearly all day. Thousands were
+killed and wounded. Paul was obliged to ride all over the field,
+carrying orders to the different generals, while the bullets fell like
+hailstones around him. Cannon-balls flew past him, shells exploded over
+his head, men fell near him, but he was unharmed. He saw with grief his
+comrades overpowered and driven, and could hardly keep back the tears
+when he saw the Rebels capture some of Captain Schwartz's guns. But when
+the infantry gave way and fled panic-stricken along the road towards
+Fort Henry, throwing away their muskets, his indignation was aroused.
+
+"Stop! or I'll shoot you," he said, drawing his revolver.
+
+"A'n't you ashamed of yourselves, you cowards?" shouted one brave
+soldier.
+
+Paul looked round to see who it was, and discovered his friend the
+sharpshooter, who thus aided him in rallying the fugitives. Blood was
+dripping from his fingers. A ball had passed through one arm, but he had
+tied his handkerchief over the wound, and was on his way back to the
+lines to take part once more in the battle. Paul thanked the noble
+fellow for helping him, and then, with the aid of other officers, they
+rallied the fugitives till reinforcements came.
+
+Onward came the Rebels, flushed with success, and thinking to win a
+glorious victory; but they were cut down with shells and canister, and
+by the volleys of musketry which were poured upon them. It was with
+great satisfaction that Paul saw the shells tear through the Rebel
+ranks; not that he liked to see men killed, but because he wanted Right
+to triumph over Wrong. Again and again the Rebels marched up the hill,
+but were as often swept back by the terrible fire which burst from
+Captain Wood's, Captain Willard's, Captain Taylor's, and Captain
+Dresser's batteries. The little brook which trickled through the ravine
+at the foot of the hill was red with the blood of the slain. It was a
+fearful sight. But the Rebels at last gave up the attempt to drive the
+Union troops from the hill, and went back into the fort. Then in the
+afternoon there was a grand charge upon the Rebel breastworks. With a
+wild hurrah they carried the old flag across the ravine, and up the hill
+beyond, over fallen trees and through thick underbrush. Men dropped from
+the ranks in scores, but on--on--on they went, driving the Rebels,
+planting the stars and stripes on the works; and though the Rebel
+regiments in the fort rained solid shot and shell and grape and canister
+and musket-balls upon them, yet they held the ground through the long,
+weary, dreary winter night. When the dawn came, the dawn of Sunday, they
+saw a white flag flung out from the parapet of the fort, and they knew
+that the enemy had surrendered. What a cheer they gave! They swung their
+hats, sang songs, and danced for joy. How beautifully the stars and
+stripes waved in the morning breeze! How proudly they marched into the
+fort and into the town,--the drums beating, the bugles sounding, and the
+bands playing!
+
+But how horrible the sight upon the field when the contest was
+over,--the dead, some cold and ghastly, others still warm with departing
+life, lying with their faces toward heaven, smiling as if only asleep!
+The ground was strewn with guns, knapsacks, and blood-stained garments;
+the snow had changed to crimson. Many wounded were lying where they
+fell, some whose lives were ebbing away calmly waiting the coming of
+death. As Paul walked over the field he came upon one lying with clasped
+hands and closed eyes, whose blood was flowing from a ghastly wound in
+his breast. As Paul stopped to gaze a moment upon a countenance which
+seemed familiar, the soldier opened his eyes and smiled; then Paul saw
+that it was the brave sharpshooter whom he had helped on the march, who,
+though sick, would not go into the hospital, though wounded, would not
+leave the field, and had aided him in rallying the fugitives. He had
+fought gallantly through the battle, and received his death-wound in the
+last grand charge.
+
+"I am glad you have come, for I know that one who was kind enough to
+help a poor fellow on the march will be willing to do one thing more,"
+said the soldier, faintly.
+
+"Certainly. What can I do for you?"
+
+"Not much, only I would like to have you overhaul my knapsack for me."
+
+Paul unstrapped the knapsack from the soldier's back, and opened it.
+
+"There is a picture in there which I want to look at once more before I
+die. You will find it in my Bible."
+
+Paul handed him the Bible.
+
+"My mother gave me this blessed book the day I left home to join the
+army. It was her last gift. I promised to read it every day, and I would
+like to have you write to her and tell her that I have kept my promise.
+Tell her that I have tried to do my duty to my country and to my God. I
+would like to live, but am not afraid to die, and am not sorry that I
+enlisted. Write to my sister. She is a sweet girl,--I can see her
+now,--a bright-eyed, light-hearted, joyous creature. O, how she will
+miss me! Tell her to plant a rose-bush in the garden and call it my
+rose, that little Eddie, when he grows up, may remember that his eldest
+brother died for his country. They live away up in Wisconsin."
+
+He took a photograph from the Bible. It was the picture of a
+dark-haired, black-eyed, fair-featured girl, and he gazed upon it till
+the tears rolled down his cheeks. He drew his brawny hand across his
+face and wiped them away, but the effort started the bright blood
+flowing in a fresher stream. "It is hard to part from her. She promised
+to be my wife when I came home from the war," he said, and touched it to
+his lips, then gazed again till his sight grew dim. He laid it with the
+Bible on his breast.
+
+Paul wiped the cold sweat from the soldier's brow.
+
+"God bless you," he whispered, and looked up and smiled. His eyes
+closed, and the slowly heaving heart stood still. He was gone to the
+land where the Faithful and True receive their just reward.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+SHOWING WHAT HE WAS MADE OF.
+
+
+There came a Sabbath morning,--one of the loveliest of all the year. The
+sun rose upon a cloudless sky, the air was laden with the fragrance of
+locust and alder blossoms, the oaks of the forest were changing from the
+gray of winter to the green of summer. Beneath their wide-spread
+branches were the tents of a great army; for after the capture of Fort
+Donelson the troops sailed up the Tennessee, and were preparing to
+attack the Rebels at Corinth.
+
+Paul was lying in his tent, thinking of home, of the calmness and
+stillness there, broken only by the chirping of the sparrows and robins,
+the church-bell, the choir, and the low voices of the congregation. How
+different from what was passing around him, where the drummers were
+beating the reveille! He was startled from his waking dream by a sudden
+firing out among the pickets. What could it mean? It grew more furious.
+There was confusion. He sprang to his feet and looked out to see what
+was the matter. Soldiers were running through the camp.
+
+"What is the row?" he asked.
+
+"The Rebels are attacking us."
+
+It did not take him long to dress; but, while pulling on his boots, a
+bullet tore through the tent-cloth over his head.
+
+The camp was astir. Officers shouted, "Fall in!" Soldiers, waking from
+sound sleep, buckled on their cartridge-boxes, seized their guns, and
+took their places in the ranks before they were fairly awake. The
+drummers beat the long-roll, the buglers sounded the signal for saddling
+horses, the artillery-men got their guns ready, cavalry-men leaped into
+their saddles, baggage-wagons went thundering towards the river. There
+was a volley of musketry, and then a deeper roar from the artillery, and
+the terrible contest of the day began, which became more terrific from
+morning till noon, from noon till night, with deafening rolls of
+musketry, with the roaring of a hundred cannon, with the yelling of the
+Rebels and the cheering of the soldiers of the Union, as the tempest
+surged through the forest, up and down the ravines, around Shiloh
+church, in the old cotton-fields, up to the spring where the country
+people were accustomed to eat their Sunday dinners, down to the
+Tennessee River, where the gunboats were waiting for the hour when they
+could open with their great guns.
+
+Paul was in the storm, riding through the leaden hail which fell all
+around him, pattering upon the dead leaves, cutting down the twigs of
+the hazel-bushes, and scarring the trees,--riding along the lines
+carrying messages to General Sherman, who was fighting like a tiger by
+the church, with the bullets piercing his clothes,--to McClernand, who
+was near by,--to Wallace, to Prentice, to Hurlburt, to Stuart,--riding
+where shells were bursting, where solid shot cut off great branches from
+the trees, splintered the trunks, ploughed the ground, whirled men and
+horses into the air, tearing them limb from limb, and then passed away
+with weird howlings. He breathed the thick smoke as it belched from the
+cannon's mouth, and felt the hot flashes on his face. He stood beside
+his commander, General Grant, while waiting for orders, and beheld him
+when tidings of disaster were brought in,--that General Prentice and
+hundreds of his men were captured,--that the line was broken, and the
+men were falling back. He could hear the triumphant shouts of the
+Rebels.
+
+Yet amid it all he saw that General Grant was cool and collected. "We
+will whip them yet," he said. Paul felt stronger after that, and
+resolved to die rather than be beaten. But how slowly dragged the hours!
+The sun seemed to stand still in the western sky. How hard to see the
+poor wounded men, thousands of them, borne to the rear, their feet
+crushed, their legs broken, their arms torn and mangled, and to know
+that there were other thousands lying upon the ground where they had
+fallen, and the strife still going on around them! Other thousands who
+were not wounded were leaving the ranks, exhausted and disheartened.
+
+"Lieutenant Parker, you will select a line along this ravine, throw up
+such defences as you can, bring up those thirty-two pounders from the
+river, and put them in position. They can't cross this. We will beat
+them here," said General Grant.
+
+Sometimes in battle minutes are of priceless value; momentous decisions
+must be made at once. Then men show what they are made of. Those are
+the trial moments of life. Paul galloped along the ravine. He saw that
+it was wide and deep, and that, if the Rebels could be kept from
+crossing it, the battle would be won; for it was their object to reach
+the steamboat-landing, where General Grant had all his supplies of food.
+There were five great iron cannon at the landing. There, also, crouching
+under the river-bank, to avoid the shot and shell, were thousands of
+fugitives, who had become disheartened, and who had left their comrades
+to be overpowered and driven back. He saw the situation of affairs in an
+instant. His brain was clear. He made up his mind instantly what to do.
+
+"Here, you--men!" he shouted. "Each of you shoulder one of those empty
+pork-barrels, and carry it up the bluff." But not a man stirred. His
+indignation was aroused; but he knew that it was not a time for
+argument. He drew his revolver, pointed it at a group, and said, "Start!
+or I'll shoot you." It was spoken so resolutely that they obeyed. He
+told them how, if they could hold that position, the Rebels would be
+defeated,--how a few minutes of resolute work would save the army. He
+saw their courage revive. They dug a trench, cut down trees, rolled up
+logs, filled the barrels with dirt, and worked like beavers. Others
+wheeled up the great guns, and Paul put them into position. Others
+brought shot and shell, and laid them in piles beside the guns. The
+storm was coming nearer. The lines were giving way. Regiments with
+broken ranks came straggling down the road.
+
+"Bring all the batteries into position along the ravine," said General
+Grant. Away flew half a dozen officers with the orders, and the
+batteries, one after another, came thundering down the road,--the horses
+leaping, the artillery-men blackened and begrimed, yet ready for another
+fight.
+
+"Get anybody you can to work the thirty-twos," said Colonel Webster, the
+chief of artillery, to Paul.
+
+"I can sight a cannon," said a surgeon, who was dressing wounds in the
+hospital. He laid down his bandages, went up and patted one of the guns,
+as if it were an old friend, ran his eye along the sights, and told the
+gunners what to do.
+
+It was sunset. All day long the battle had raged, and the Union troops
+had been driven. The Rebels were ready for their last grand charge,
+which they hoped would give them the victory. Onward they came down the
+steep bank opposite, into the ravine. The Union batteries were ready for
+them,--Captain Silversparre with his twenty-pounders, Captain Richardson
+and Captain Russell with their howitzers, Captain Stone with his
+ten-pounders, Captain Taylor, Captain Dresser, Captain Willard, and
+Lieutenant Edwards,--sixty or more cannon in all. A gunner was lacking
+for one of the great iron thirty-twos. Paul sprang from his horse, and
+took command of the piece.
+
+The long lines of the Rebels came into view. "Bang! bang! bang! bang!"
+went the guns. Then half a dozen crashed at once,--the great thirty-twos
+thundering heavier than all the others. Shells, solid shot, and canister
+tore through the ravine, rolling back the Rebel lines, drenching the
+hillsides with blood, turning the brook to crimson, and the fresh young
+leaves to scarlet. O the wild commotion,--the jarring of the earth, the
+deep reverberations rolling far away, and the shouts of the cannoneers!
+
+"Give them canister!" shouted Paul to the cannoneers, and the terrible
+missiles went screaming down the ravine. The bullets were falling
+around him, singing in his ears, but he heeded them not. But O how
+painful it was to see a brother officer torn to pieces by his side! Then
+how glorious to behold, through the rifts in the battle-cloud, that the
+Rebels were flying in confusion through the woods. Then there came a
+cheer. General Nelson had arrived with reinforcements, and Buell's whole
+army was near. The thirty-two-pounders, the howitzers, and the batteries
+had saved the day, and the victory was won. And now, as night came on,
+the gunboats joined, throwing eleven-inch shells into the woods among
+the Rebel troops, which added discomfiture to defeat. And when the
+uproar, the noise, and the confusion had died away, how good to thank
+God for the victory, and for the preservation of his life! How
+gratifying to receive the thanks of his commander on the field,--to be
+mentioned as one who had done his duty faithfully, and who was deserving
+of promotion!
+
+After the battle he was made a captain, and had greater responsibilities
+resting upon him. He was called upon to take long rides, with the
+cavalry, on expeditions into the enemy's country. Sometimes he found
+himself alone in the dark woods of Mississippi, threading the narrow
+paths, swimming rivers, wading creeks, plunging into swamps,--at other
+times, with his comrades, sweeping like a whirlwind through the Southern
+towns, in pursuit of the retreating foe, riding day and night, often
+without food, but occasionally having a nice supper of roast chicken
+cooked by the bivouac-fire in the forest. Sometimes he spread his
+blanket beneath the grand old trees, and had a rest for the night; and
+often, when pursued by the enemy, when there was no time to stop and
+rest, he slept in his saddle, and dreamed of home. So he spent the
+months which followed that terrible battle, obtaining information which
+was of inestimable value. Thus he served his country,--at Corinth, at
+Memphis, and at Vicksburg, where, through the long, hot, weary, sickly
+months, the brave soldiers toiled, building roads, cutting trenches,
+digging ditches, excavating canals, clearing forests, erecting
+batteries, working in mud and water, fighting on the Yazoo, and at last,
+under their great leader, sweeping down the west side of the
+Mississippi, crossing the river, defeating the enemy in all the battles
+which followed, then closing in upon the town and capturing it, after
+months of hardship and suffering. How hard this work! how laborious,
+and wearing, and dangerous!
+
+Paul found little time to rest. It was his duty to lay out the work for
+the soldiers, to say where the breastworks should be thrown up, where
+the guns should be placed in position. In the dark nights he went out
+beyond the picket-lines and examined the hills and ravines, while the
+bullets of the Rebel sharpshooters were flying about his ears, and in
+the daytime he was riding along the lines while the great guns were
+bellowing, to see if they were in the best position, and were doing
+their proper work. At length there came a morning when the Rebels raised
+a white flag, and Vicksburg surrendered. It was the glorious reward for
+all their hardship, toil, suffering, and endurance. How proudly the
+soldiers marched into the city, with drums beating, bands playing, and
+all their banners waving! It was the Fourth of July, the most joyful day
+of all the year. There were glad hearts all over the land,--ringing of
+bells and firing of cannon, songs of praise and thanksgivings; for not
+only at Vicksburg, but at Gettysburg, the soldiers of the Union had won
+a great victory.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+HONOR TO THE BRAVE.
+
+
+Paul's mother lived alone, and yet she was not without company; for the
+bees and the humming-birds buzzing among the flowers, the old clock
+ticking steadily, the cat purring in the sunshine, were her constant
+friends through the long summer days. And every morning Azalia came in
+and read the news. Pleasant the sound of her approaching step! Ever
+welcome her appearance! Winsome her smile! How beautiful upon her cheek
+the deepening bloom of a guileless heart!
+
+"Good news!" she exclaimed one morning, as she entered, with glowing
+countenance and sparkling eyes, tossing aside her hat.
+
+"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Parker asked.
+
+Azalia replied by opening a newspaper, and reading that "Captain Paul
+Parker, who had been acting as major, was promoted to be a colonel for
+meritorious and distinguished services at Vicksburg."
+
+"I am glad he has served his country so faithfully," said Mrs Parker,
+pleased and gratified, and proud of her son.
+
+"Who knows but that he may be a general yet?" said Azalia, triumphantly.
+"We are going to have a jubilee this afternoon over the victories," she
+added. She could stop no longer, for she was to take part in the jubilee
+with Daphne, and hastened away to prepare for the occasion.
+
+All New Hope turned out to rejoice over the glorious news. Farmers came
+with their wagons loaded with things for the soldiers,--bottles of wine,
+jars of jellies and preserves, for there were thousands of wounded in
+the hospitals. Those who could not contribute such things were ready to
+give money, for their hearts were overflowing with gratitude. Old men
+came, leaning on their staves or supported by their children, with the
+fires of youth rekindling in their souls. Mothers were there, for they
+had sons in the service. Paul was not the only soldier who had gone from
+New Hope. A score had enlisted. Old folks, young folks, all the people
+of the place were there, in the old church.
+
+The evening train came thundering along the railroad, stopping long
+enough to leave Paul, who had unexpectedly been ordered to duty in
+Tennessee with General Rosecrans. He was granted a week's leave of
+absence. There was no one at the depot. He wondered at the silence in
+the streets. Houses and stores and shops were all closed. He passed up
+the hill to his old home; but his mother was not there, and the door was
+fast. The cat was lying upon the step, and purred him a welcome. The
+bees were humming over the flower-beds, and the swallows twittered
+merrily upon the roof of the house. The remembrance of his boyhood came
+back, and he was a child again amid the flowers.
+
+He noticed that the people were around the church, and passed on to see
+what had called them together.
+
+"Why, that is Paul Parker, as true as I am alive!" said Mr. Chrome, as
+he approached the church.
+
+The little boys caught it up, and cried, "Paul has come! Paul has come!"
+and looked wonderingly at his blue uniform, and the eagle on his
+shoulders. It was buzzed through the church that he had come. Judge
+Adams, who was on the platform, and who was chairman of the meeting,
+said: "It gives me great pleasure to announce the arrival of our
+esteemed fellow-citizen, Colonel Parker, who has so nobly distinguished
+himself in the service of our country."
+
+"Three cheers for Colonel Parker!" shouted Mr. Chrome, and the people,
+glad to see him, and brimming over with joy for the victories, sprang to
+their feet and hurrahed and stamped till the windows rattled. Judge
+Adams welcomed him to the platform, and Father Surplice, Colonel Dare,
+and Esquire Capias rose and shook hands with him. Esquire Capias was
+making a speech when Paul entered; but he left off suddenly, saying: "I
+know that you want to hear from Colonel Parker, and it will give me
+greater pleasure to listen to him than to talk myself."
+
+Then there were cries for Paul.
+
+"It is not necessary for me to introduce Colonel Parker on this
+occasion," said Judge Adams. "He is our fellow-citizen; this is his
+home. He has honored himself and us. We have been trying to be eloquent
+over the great victories; but the eloquence of speech is very poor when
+compared with the eloquence of action." Then turning to Paul, he said:
+"What you and your comrades have done, Sir, will be remembered through
+all coming time."
+
+"We tried to do our duty, and God gave us the victory," said Paul. He
+stood before them taller and stouter than when he went away. He was
+sunburnt; but his countenance was noble and manly, and marked with
+self-reliance. He never had made a speech. He did not know what to say.
+To stand there facing the audience, with his mother, Azalia, Daphne, and
+all his old friends before him, was very embarrassing. It was worse than
+meeting the Rebels in battle. But why should he be afraid? They were all
+his friends, and would respect him if he did the best he could. He would
+not try to be eloquent. He would simply tell them the story of the
+battles; how the soldiers had marched, and toiled, and fought,--not for
+glory, honor, or fame, but because they were true patriots; how he had
+seen them resign themselves to death as calmly as to a night's repose,
+thinking and talking of friends far away, of father, mother, brothers
+and sisters, their pleasant homes, and the dear old scenes, yet never
+uttering a regret that they had enlisted to save their country.
+
+There were moist eyes when he said that; but when he told them of the
+charge at Fort Donelson,--how the troops marched through the snow in
+long, unbroken lines, and with a hurrah went up the hill, over fallen
+trees, and drove the Rebels from their breastworks,--the men swung their
+hats, and shouted, and the women waved their handkerchiefs, and cheered
+as if crazy with enthusiasm.
+
+Then Azalia and Daphne sung the Star-spangled Banner, the congregation
+joining in the chorus. Under the excitement of the moment, Judge Adams
+called for contributions for the soldiers, and the old farmers took out
+their pocket-books. Those who had made up their minds to give five
+dollars gave ten, while Mr. Middlekauf, Hans's father, who thought he
+would give twenty-five, put fifty into the hat.
+
+When the meeting was over, Paul stepped down from the platform, threw
+his arms around his mother's neck and kissed her, and heard her whisper,
+"God bless you, Paul." Then the people came to shake hands with him.
+Even Miss Dobb came up, all smiles, shaking her curls, holding out her
+bony hand, and saying, "I am glad to see you, Colonel Parker. You know
+that I was your old teacher. I really feel proud to know that you have
+acquitted yourself so well. I shall claim part of the honor. You must
+come and take tea with me, and tell me all about the battles," she
+said.
+
+"My leave of absence is short. I shall not have time to make many
+visits; but it will give me great pleasure to call upon those who have
+_always_ been my friends," said Paul, with a look so searching that it
+brought the blood into her faded cheeks.
+
+Hearty the welcome from Azalia and Daphne, and from those who had been
+his scholars, who listened with eager interest to the words which fell
+from his lips. Golden the days and blissful those few hours spent with
+his mother, sitting by her side in the old kitchen; with Daphne and
+Azalia, singing the old songs; with Azalia alone, stealing down the
+shaded walk in the calm moonlight, talking of the changeful past, and
+looking into the dreamy future, the whippoorwills and plovers piping to
+them from the cloverfields, the crickets chirping them a cheerful
+welcome, and the river saluting them with its ceaseless serenade!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+CHICKAMAUGA.
+
+
+Quick the changes. Paul was once more with the army, amid the mountains
+of Tennessee, marching upon Chattanooga with General Rosecrans, tramping
+over Lookout Mountain, and along the Chickamauga.
+
+Then came a day of disaster in September. A great battle began on
+Saturday morning, lasted through Sunday, and closed on Monday. Paul rode
+courageously where duty called him, through the dark woods, along the
+winding river, where the bullets sang, where the shells burst, where
+hundreds of brave men fell. Terrible the contest. It was like a
+thunder-storm among the mountains,--like the growling of the angry surf
+upon the shore of the ocean. How trying, after hours of hard fighting,
+to see the lines waver and behold the Rebels move victoriously over the
+field! with disaster setting in, and to know that all that is worth
+living for is trembling in the scale!
+
+There are such moments in battle. General Rosecrans's army was
+outnumbered. Paul saw the Rebels driving in the centre and turning the
+left flank to cut off all retreat to Chattanooga. The moment for great,
+heroic action had come. He felt the blood leap through his veins as it
+never had leaped before. The Rebel line was advancing up the hill. The
+Union batteries were making ready to leave.
+
+"Stay where you are!" he shouted. "Give them canister! Double shot the
+guns! Quick! One minute now is worth a thousand hours."
+
+"Rally! rally! Don't let them have the guns!" he shouted to the flying
+troops. They were magic words. Men who had started to run came back.
+Those who were about to leave stood in their places, ready to die where
+they were. Five minutes passed; they seemed ages. On--nearer--up to the
+muzzles of the guns came the Rebels; then, losing heart, fled down the
+hill, where hundreds of their comrades lay dying and dead. Their efforts
+to break the line had failed. But once more they advanced in stronger
+force, rushing up the hill. Fearful the din and strife, the shouts and
+yells, the clashing of sabres and bayonets, the roar of the cannon, the
+explosion of shells. Paul found himself suddenly falling, then all was
+dark.
+
+When he came to himself the scene had changed. He was lying upon the
+ground. A soldier, wearing a dirty gray jacket, and with long hair, was
+pulling off his boots, saying, "This Yankee has got a pair of boots
+worth having."
+
+"Hold on! what are you up to?" said Paul.
+
+"Hullo! blue bellie, ye are alive, are ye? Tho't yer was dead. Reckon
+I'll take yer boots, and yer coat tew."
+
+Paul saw how it was: he was wounded, and left on the field. He was in
+the hands of the Rebels; but hardest to bear was the thought that the
+army had been defeated. He was stiff and sore. The blood was oozing from
+a wound in his side. He was burning up with fever. He asked the Rebels
+who were around him for a drink of water; but, instead of moistening his
+parched lips, one pointed his gun at him and threatened to blow out his
+brains. They stripped off his coat and picked his pockets. Around him
+were hundreds of dead men. The day wore away and the night came on. He
+opened his lips to drink the falling dew, and lay with his face towards
+the stars. He thought of his mother, of home, of Azalia, of the angels
+and God. Many times he had thought how sad it must be to die alone upon
+the battle-field, far from friends; but now he remembered the words of
+Jesus Christ: "I will not leave you comfortless. My peace I give unto
+you." Heaven seemed near, and he felt that the angels were not far away.
+He had tried to do his duty. He believed that, whether living or dying,
+God would take care of him, and of his mother. In his soul there was
+sweet peace and composure; but what was the meaning of the strange
+feeling creeping over him, the numbness of his hands, the fluttering of
+his heart? Was it not the coming on of death? He remembered the prayer
+of his childhood, lisped many a time while kneeling by his mother's
+side, and repeated it once more.
+
+               "Now I lay me down to sleep,
+                I pray the Lord my soul to keep;
+                If I should die before I wake,
+                I pray the Lord my soul to take."
+
+The stars were fading. His senses reeled. His eyelids closed, and he lay
+pale, cold, and motionless, among the dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+HOW HE LIVED IN THE MEMORY OF HIS FRIENDS.
+
+
+"Colonel Parker, mortally wounded and left on the field." So read the
+account of the battle in the newspapers,--which told of the disaster to
+the army,--how the lines were broken, how the cannon were lost, how Paul
+was shot through the breast, how, had it not been for General Thomas, it
+would have been a day of utter ruin. Father Surplice went up to the
+little old house to break the sad tidings to Paul's mother, for he could
+best give comfort and consolation in time of affliction.
+
+"I have sad news," he said. She saw it in his face, even before he
+spoke, and knew that something terrible had happened. "A great battle
+has been fought, and God has seen fit that your son should die for his
+country."
+
+She made no outcry, but the tears glistened in her eyes. She wiped them
+away, and calmly replied: "I gave him freely to the country and to God.
+I know that he was a dutiful, affectionate son. I am not sorry that I
+let him go." Then with clasped hands she looked upward, through her
+blinding tears, and thanked God that Paul had been faithful, honest,
+true, and good.
+
+The neighbors came in to comfort her, but were surprised to find her so
+calm, and to hear her say, "It is well."
+
+It was a gloomy day in New Hope,--in the stores and shops, and in the
+school-house, for the children affectionately remembered their old
+teacher. When the sexton tolled the bell, they bowed their heads and
+wept bitter tears. Mr. Chrome laid down his paint-brush and sat with
+folded hands, saying, "I can't work." Colonel Dare dashed a tear from
+his eye, and said, "So slavery takes our noblest and best." He walked
+down to the little old house and said to Mrs. Parker, "You never shall
+want while I have a cent left." Judge Adams came, and with much emotion
+asked, "What can I do for you?"
+
+"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in
+green pastures, he leadeth me beside the still waters," she replied, so
+calmly that the Judge felt that she was the strong one and he the weak.
+
+When Azalia heard the news the rose-bloom faded from her cheeks and her
+heart stood still. In imagination she saw Paul lying on the ground, with
+blood flowing from his side, enduring dreadful agony, while waiting the
+coming of death. She could hardly think of him as gone, never to return,
+yet the church-bell was tolling mournfully, gone, gone, gone! She
+clasped her hands upon her heart to keep it from bursting.
+
+"Be comforted, my child. He has gone to a better world than this," said
+her mother, sympathizing in her sorrow.
+
+Daphne came in, and bathed Azalia's burning brow, kissed her tenderly,
+and said, "Don't cry, dear."
+
+Azalia was not weeping,--there were no tears in her eyes. God had not
+wiped them all away, but the great and sudden affliction was like the
+heat of a fiery furnace. It had dried the fountains. Though her mother
+and Daphne were so kind and tender, they could not take away her
+heart-ache. It was a weary day. She sat by the window and gazed upon the
+wheat-fields, brown and bare, for it was almost October, and the reapers
+had gathered the grain. Beyond the fields was the river, shrunk to a
+narrow bed by the heats of summer. Dead leaves were floating down the
+stream. Like the _Miserere_ which the choir chanted at the funeral of a
+sweet young girl before Paul went to the army, was the murmuring of the
+water. Beyond the river were green meadows and gardens and orchards,
+where dahlias were blooming, and grapes and apples ripening in the
+mellow sunshine. She thought of Paul as having passed over the river,
+and as walking in the vineyard of the Lord. The summer flowers which she
+had planted in her own garden were faded, the stalks were dry, and the
+leaves withered. They never would bloom again. Like them, the brightness
+of her life had passed away.
+
+Night brought no relief. It seemed as if her heart would break, but she
+remembered what Jesus said: "Come unto me and I will give you rest." She
+told Him all her grief, asked Him to help her, inasmuch as He was able
+to bear the sorrows of all the world. So confiding in Him, she
+experienced indescribable peace of mind.
+
+Then in the evening they who walked along the street stopped and
+listened by the gate to hear the music which floated out through the
+open window, bowing their heads, and in silence wiping away their tears.
+It was the music of the "Messiah," which Handel composed. She sung it in
+church one Sunday before Paul went to the army, and Father Surplice said
+it set him to thinking about the music of heaven; but now to the passers
+in the street it was as if Jesus called them, so sweet and tender was
+the song.
+
+It was consoling to take from her bureau the letters which Paul had
+written, and read again what she had read many times,--to look upon the
+laurel-leaf which he plucked in the woods at Donelson, the
+locust-blossoms which he gathered at Shiloh, the moss-rose which grew in
+a garden at Vicksburg,--to read his noble and manly words of his
+determination to do his duty in all things.
+
+"Life is worth nothing," read one of the letters, "unless devoted to
+noble ends. I thank God that I live in this age, for there never has
+been so great an opportunity to do good. The heroes of all ages, those
+who have toiled and suffered to make the world better, are looking down
+from the past to see if I am worthy to be of their number. I can see the
+millions yet to come beckoning me to do my duty for their sake. They
+will judge me. What answer can I give them if I falter?"
+
+Thus in her sorrow Azalia found some comfort in looking at the faded
+flowers, and in reflecting that he had not faltered in the hour of
+trial, but had proved himself worthy to be numbered with the heroic
+dead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+WHAT BECAME OF A TRAITOR.
+
+
+But Paul was not dead. He was in the hands of the enemy. He had been
+taken up from the battle-field while unconscious, put into an ambulance,
+and carried with other wounded to a Rebel hospital.
+
+"We can't do anything for this Yankee," said one of the surgeons who
+looked at his wound.
+
+"No, he will pop off right soon, I reckon," said another; and Paul was
+left to live or die, as it might be.
+
+When he awoke from his stupor he found himself in an old barn, lying on
+a pile of straw. He was weak and faint, and suffered excruciating pain.
+The Rebel soldier had stolen his coat, and he had no blanket to protect
+him from the cold night-winds. He was helpless. His flesh was hot, his
+lips were parched. A fever set in, his flesh wasted away, and his eyes
+became wild, glassy, and sunken. Week after week he lay powerless to
+help himself, often out of his head and talking of home, or imagining
+he was in battle. How long the days! how lonesome the nights! But he had
+a strong constitution, and instead of "popping off," as the surgeon
+predicted, began to get well. Months passed, of pain and agony and weary
+longing. It was sweet relief when he was able to creep out and sit in
+the warm sunshine.
+
+One day a Rebel lieutenant, wearing a gay uniform trimmed with gold
+lace, came past him. Paul saw that he had been drinking liquor, for he
+could not walk straight.
+
+"Why don't you salute me, you Yankee villain?" said the fellow,
+stopping.
+
+Paul was startled at the voice, looked the lieutenant in the face, and
+saw that it was Philip Funk. His face was bloated, and his eyes
+bloodshot. When he fled from New Hope after robbing Mr. Bond, he made
+his way south, joined the Rebels, and was now a lieutenant. Paul was so
+changed by sickness that Philip did not recognize him.
+
+"Why don't you salute me, you dirty Yankee puppy?" said Philip, with an
+oath.
+
+"I don't salute a traitor and a robber," said Paul.
+
+Philip turned pale with anger. "Say that again, and I will cut your
+heart out!" he said, with a horrible oath, raising his sword and
+advancing upon Paul, who stood still and looked him calmly in the eye.
+
+"Cowards only attack unarmed men," said Paul.
+
+"What do you mean, sir, by calling me a robber, traitor, and coward?"
+Philip asked, white with rage, not recognizing Paul.
+
+"I mean that you, Philip Funk, committed robbery at New Hope, ran away
+from home, became a traitor, and now you show yourself to be a coward by
+threatening to cut out the heart of a weak defenceless prisoner."
+
+"Who are you?" stammered Philip.
+
+"My name is Paul Parker. I am a colonel in the service of the United
+States," Paul replied, not recognizing by any familiar act his old
+playmate and school-fellow.
+
+Philip dropped his sword, and stood irresolute and undecided what to do.
+A group of Rebel officers who had been wounded, and were strolling about
+the grounds, saw and heard it all. One was a colonel.
+
+"What do you know about Lieutenant Funk?" he asked.
+
+"He was my schoolmate. He committed robbery and came south to join your
+army," Paul replied.
+
+The Colonel turned to the officers who were with him, and said, "This is
+the fellow who is suspected of stealing from the soldiers, and it is
+said that he skulked at Chickamauga."
+
+"The cuss ought to be reduced to the ranks," said another.
+
+Philip did not stop to hear any more, but walked rapidly away.
+
+The next day he was arrested and brought before a court-martial, tried,
+and found guilty of hiding behind a stump when ordered to make a charge
+in battle, and of stealing money from the soldiers. The court ordered
+that he be stripped of his uniform and reduced to the ranks, and wear
+the "rogue's coat" through the camp. The coat was a flour-barrel,
+without heads, but with holes cut in the sides for his arms.
+
+Philip was brought out upon the parade-ground, deprived of his sword and
+uniform, and compelled to put on the barrel, on which were written the
+words,
+
+COWARD, ROBBER.
+
+Thus, with two soldiers to guard him, with a drummer and fifer playing
+the Rogues' March, he was paraded through the camp. The soldiers hooted
+at him, and asked him all sorts of questions.
+
+"How are you, Bummer?" asked one.
+
+"Did you pay your tailors with the money you stole?" asked another.
+
+"Your coat puckers under the arms and wrinkles in the back," said
+another.
+
+"He felt so big they had to hoop him to keep him from bursting,"
+remarked one, who remembered how pompous Philip had been.
+
+After being marched through the camp, he was set to work with a shovel,
+cleaning up the grounds. It was a sorry day to Philip. He wished he had
+never been born. He was despised alike by officers and soldiers. The
+officers made him do their dirty work, while the soldiers, knowing that
+he had not courage enough to resent an insult, made him the general
+scavenger of the camp. This treatment was so hard to bear that Philip
+thought of deserting; but he knew that if he was caught he would be
+shot, and did not dare to make the attempt. The slaves in the camp
+looked down upon him, and spoke of him as the "meanest sort of Yankee
+white trash." The soldiers turned him out of their tents. "We won't have
+a Yankee thief and coward in our mess," said they, and he was obliged to
+sleep under the trees, or wherever he could find shelter. He became
+dirty and ragged. His clothes dropped from him piece by piece, till he
+had nothing left but rags. He had little to eat. He had no friends. When
+he was sick, no one cared for him. Those were bitter days; but instead
+of being made better at heart by his punishment, he cursed and swore,
+and wished only that he could get whiskey to drink.
+
+Winter set in. There came a cold, stormy night. Philip wandered about
+the camp to keep himself warm. He was weak and faint, and at last,
+tired, exhausted, and his teeth chattering with ague, crawled into a
+wagon, drew his old tattered blanket over his head, and after shivering
+awhile went to sleep. The teamsters found him there in the morning,
+stiff and cold. He had died during the night, with no friend near him, a
+vagabond, an outcast, despised by everybody.
+
+The officer who had charge of the camp, when he heard that Philip was
+dead, called up a couple of soldiers who were in the guard-house for
+getting drunk, and said to them, "You were drunk yesterday, and for a
+punishment I sentence you to bury the camp-scullion who froze to death
+last night."
+
+The teamster harnessed his horses, drove outside of the camp into a
+field, where the two soldiers dug a shallow grave, tumbled the body into
+it, threw back the earth, trampled it down with their feet, shouldered
+their shovels, and went back to camp as unconcerned as if they had
+buried a dog.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+DARK DAYS.
+
+
+When Paul's wound had healed sufficiently to enable him to travel, he
+was put into a freight car with his comrades and sent to the Rebel
+prison at Andersonville. The ride was long and hard, but the prisoners
+bore the jolting without a murmur, for they supposed they would soon be
+exchanged and sent North. They were doomed to bitter disappointment.
+
+The prison was a yard enclosed by a high fence. There was a platform on
+the outside where the sentinels stood on guard, and ready to shoot any
+one who approached nearer than what they called "the dead line." The
+prisoners had no shelter from the scorching rays of the sun through the
+long summer days, nor from the sleety rains and freezing nights of
+winter. They dug holes in the ground with their hands, and made the
+cold, damp earth their bed. A slimy brook ran through the grounds, foul
+with filth from the camps of the Rebels. There was a marsh in the
+centre of the yard, full of rottenness, where the water stood in green
+and stagnant pools, breeding flies, mosquitos, and vermin, where all the
+ooze and scum and slops of the camp came to the surface, and filled the
+air with horrible smells. They had very little food,--nothing but a
+half-pint of coarse corn-meal, a little molasses, and a mouthful of
+tainted bacon and salt, during each twenty-four hours. They were herded
+like sheep. The yard was packed with them. There were more than twenty
+thousand in a place designed for half that number.
+
+When Paul and his comrades reached the prison, they were examined by the
+officer in command, a brutal fellow named Wirz, who robbed them of what
+money they had. The gate opened, and they passed in. When Paul beheld
+the scene, his heart sank within him. He had suffered many hardships,
+but this was an experience beyond everything else. He was still weak. He
+needed nourishing food, but he must eat the corn-meal or starve.
+Everywhere he saw only sickening sights,--pale, woe-begone wretches,
+clothed in filthy rags, covered with vermin. Some were picking up crumbs
+of bread which had been swept out from the bakery. Others were sucking
+the bones which had been thrown out from the cook-house. Some sat gazing
+into vacancy, taking no notice of what was going on around
+them,--dreaming of homes which they never were again to behold. Many
+were stretched upon the ground, too weak to sit up, from whose hearts
+hope had died out, and who were waiting calmly for death to come and
+relieve them from their sufferings. Thousands had died. One hundred died
+on the day Paul entered, and another hundred during the night. All day
+long the bodies lay among the living in the sun. When the dead-cart came
+in, they were thrown into it like logs of wood. It was a horrible
+sight,--the stony eyes, the sunken cheeks, the matted hair, the ghastly
+countenances, the swaying limbs, as the cart jolted along the uneven
+ground! More than thirteen thousand soldiers starved and murdered by the
+Rebels were thus carried out in the dead-carts.
+
+The keepers of the prison were cruel. Paul saw a poor cripple crawl
+towards the fence and reach his hand over the dead line to get a bone.
+Crack went the rifle of the sentinel, which sent a bullet through the
+prisoner's brain, who tossed up his hands, gave one heart-rending
+outcry, and rolled over--dead. On a dark and stormy night some of the
+prisoners escaped, but ferocious dogs were put upon their track, and
+they were recaptured. The hounds mangled them, and the Rebel officers
+had them tied up and whipped, till death put an end to their sufferings.
+
+It was terrible to hear the coughing of those who were dying of
+consumption,--to see them crawling from place to place, searching in
+vain to find a shelter from the driving storms,--to hear the piteous
+cries of those who were racked with pains, or the moans of those who
+gave themselves up to despair. For want of proper food the prisoners
+suffered from scurvy;--their gums rotted, their teeth fell out, and
+their flesh turned to corruption; they wasted away, and died in horrible
+agony. It was so terrible to hear their dying cries, that Paul put his
+fingers in his ears; but soon he became accustomed to the sights and
+sounds, and looked upon the scenes with indifference. He pitied the
+sufferers, but was powerless to aid them. Soon he found that his own
+spirits began to droop. He roused himself, determined to brave out all
+the horrors of the place. He sang songs and told stories, and got up
+games to keep his fellow-prisoners in good heart. But notwithstanding
+all his efforts to maintain his cheerfulness and composure, he felt that
+he was growing weaker. Instead of being robust, he became thin and
+spare. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes sunken. There was a fever in
+his bones. Day by day he found himself taking shorter walks. At night,
+when he curled down in his burrow, he felt tired, although he had done
+no work through the day. In the morning he was stiff, and sore, and
+lame, and although the ground was cold and damp, it was easier to lie
+there than to get up. His hair became matted,--his fingers were long and
+bony. Each day his clothes became more ragged. When he first entered the
+prison, he tried to keep himself clean and free from vermin, but in
+vain. One day he went out to wash his tattered clothes, but the stream
+was so dirty he sat down and waited for it to become clear. He sat hour
+after hour, but it was always the same slimy, sickening stream.
+
+The Rebels took delight in deluding the prisoners with false
+hopes,--telling them that they were soon to be exchanged and sent home;
+but instead of release, the dead-cart went its daily rounds, bearing
+its ghastly burden. That was their exchange, and they looked upon the
+shallow trenches as the only home which they would ever reach. Hope died
+out and despair set in. Some prisoners lost their reason, and became
+raving maniacs, while others became only gibbering idiots. Some who
+still retained their reason, who all their lives had believed that the
+Almighty is a God of justice and truth, began to doubt if there be a
+God. Although they had cried and begged for deliverance, there was no
+answer to their prayers. Paul felt that his own faith was wavering; but
+he could not let go of the instructions he had received from his mother.
+In the darkest hour, when he was most sorely tempted to break out into
+cursing, he was comforted and reassured by Uncle Peter, an old
+gray-headed negro, who had been a slave all his life. Peter had been
+whipped, kicked, and cuffed many times by his hard-hearted, wicked
+master, not because he was unfaithful, but because he loved to pray, and
+shout, and sing. Through the long night, sitting by his pitch-knot fire
+in his cabin, Uncle Peter had sung the songs which lifted him in spirit
+almost up to heaven, whither his wife and children had gone, after cruel
+whippings and scourgings by their master. It was so sweet to think of
+her as having passed over the river of Jordan into the blessed land,
+that he could not refrain from shouting:
+
+               "O my Mary is sitting on the tree of life,
+                  To see the Jordan roll;
+                O, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll!
+                I will march the angel march,--
+                I will march the angel march.
+                O my soul is rising heavenward,
+                  To see where the Jordan rolls."
+
+He had given food and shelter to some of the prisoners who escaped from
+the horrible place, and had piloted them through the woods, and for this
+was arrested and thrown into the prison.
+
+Uncle Peter took a great liking to Paul, and, when Paul was
+down-hearted, cheered him by saying: "Never you give up. Don't let go of
+de hand of de good Lord. It is mighty hard to bear such treatment, but
+we colored people have borne it all our lives. But 'pears like my heart
+would break when I think of my children sold down Souf." Uncle Peter
+wiped his eyes with his tattered coat-sleeve, and added: "But de Lord is
+coming to judge de earth with righteousness, and den I reckon de Rebs
+will catch it."
+
+Uncle Peter dug roots and cooked Paul's food for him, for the Rebels
+would not allow them any wood, although there was a forest near the
+prison. Paul could not keep back the tears when he saw how kind Uncle
+Peter was. He thought that he never should weep again, for he felt that
+the fountains of his heart were drying up. Uncle Peter sat by him
+through the long days, fanning him with his old tattered straw hat,
+brushing the flies from his face, moistening his lips with water, and
+bathing his brow. He was as black as charcoal, and had a great nose and
+thick lips,--but notwithstanding all that Paul loved him.
+
+Thus the days and weeks and months went by, Uncle Peter keeping the
+breath of life in Paul's body, while thousands of his comrades died.
+There was no change in prison affairs for the better. There was no hope
+of release, no prospect of deliverance,--no words from home, no cheering
+news, no intelligence, except from other prisoners captured from time to
+time, and sent to the horrible slaughter-pen to become maniacs and
+idiots,--to be murdered,--to die of starvation and rottenness,--to be
+borne out in the dead-cart to the trenches.
+
+Though Paul sometimes was sorely tempted to yield to despondency, there
+were hours when, with clear vision, he looked beyond the horrors of the
+prison to the time when God would balance the scales of justice, and
+permit judgment to be executed, not only upon the fiend Wirz, who had
+charge of the prison, but also upon Jeff Davis and the leaders of the
+rebellion. And though his sufferings were terrible to bear, there was
+not a moment when he was sorry that he had enlisted to save his country.
+So through all the gloom and darkness his patriotism and devotion shone
+like a star which never sets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+CONSECRATION.
+
+
+As the weeks passed by, bringing no intelligence to New Hope that Paul
+was living,--when there was no longer a doubt of his death,--Father
+Surplice held a memorial service. It was on Sunday, and all the people
+were at church. Appropriate for the occasion were the words which he
+read from the New Testament of the widow of Nain,--how, "as Jesus came
+nigh to the city, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his
+mother, and she was a widow; and when the Lord saw her, he had
+compassion on her, and said, 'Weep not!'"
+
+Consoling and comforting were his own words, which sank deep into the
+hearts of the stricken people; and though the good man said, "Weep not!"
+tears dropped from his own eyes, and fell upon the great Bible which lay
+open before him. It was a sad and solemn service. Though the heart of
+the mother was yearning for her son, yet she could say, "The Lord gave,
+and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."
+
+Mrs. Parker still lived in the little old cottage. The neighbors were
+very kind, and she wanted for nothing, for Colonel Dare remembered his
+promise. Peaceful was her life. The birds sang cheerful songs; sweet was
+the humming of the bees, fragrant the flowers in the garden, and steady
+the flowing of the river; and as she listened to the waterfall, she
+thought of Paul as standing by the River of Life. How, then, could she
+mourn for him? Yet she missed him. Sometimes she listened as if to hear
+his footsteps coming up the garden walk. Sometimes her eyes filled with
+tears, as her heart went out to the lonely battle-field where she
+thought him lying. O, if she could but behold him again,--clasp him in
+her arms,--and once more lay her hand upon his brow, and bless him with
+a mother's tenderest love!
+
+But he was gone, and for him she could work no more. His comrades were
+bearing on the flag, upholding it on bloody fields, fighting as he
+fought, suffering as he suffered, needing help and comfort and cheer
+from those at home. There was work to be done for them; so through the
+days she sat in the old kitchen, knitting and sewing for the soldiers,
+wishing that she had half a dozen hands instead of two, that she might
+help them more.
+
+There was one who came to aid her every day,--Azalia, who, in the
+silence and seclusion of her chamber, had looked out upon the yellow
+harvest-fields where the farmers were gathering the first ripe ears of
+seed-corn, and had tried to still the wild commotion in her heart by
+remembering that it was just and right for the Lord of the harvest to
+gather his "choicest grains." Down on the lowlands by the river the
+nurserymen were selecting their fairest trees, and transplanting them in
+their orchards on the pleasant hills beyond the stream. Why, then,
+should she complain if the kind Father had seen fit to do the same?
+
+It was consoling to take from her bureau drawer, where her keepsakes
+were stored, the letters which Paul had written, undo the black ribbon
+which she had tied around the package, and read again and again that
+which she almost knew by heart. What manly words were there: "Life is
+worth nothing unless devoted to noble ends. I can see the millions yet
+to come beckoning me to do my duty for their sake. What answer can I
+give them if I falter?"
+
+So read one of the letters. They were words which she could not forget.
+They were written from the trenches before Vicksburg, when the prospects
+of the country were dark and gloomy,--when craven men at home were
+crying, "Peace! Peace! Let us have peace at any price!" forgetting that
+there can be no reconcilement between right and wrong. Paul had
+sacrificed everything--life itself--for the sake of those who were to
+come after him,--for Truth and Justice. She thought of him as asleep
+beneath the sod of the battle-field where he fell,--of all that was
+mortal lying there, but of his soul as having passed up into heaven,
+perhaps even then beholding her from the celestial sphere. "What answer
+can I give to those who come after me?" The question haunted her through
+the waning days and the lonely nights. What could she do? How listless
+her life! of how little account! How feeble, forceless, and narrow all
+her efforts! What sacrifices had she made? None. She had lived for
+herself alone. Was this all of life? In the silent hours, when all
+around were hushed in slumber, her longing soul, with far-reaching
+sight, looked out upon the coming years, and beheld the opening
+prospect,--a country saved, a nation redeemed, justice and truth
+triumphant, and Peace, with her white wings, brooding over the land!
+This through sacrifice of blood, of strength, of ease and comfort. To
+withhold the sacrifice was to lose all. To her the coming millions were
+beckoning as they had beckoned to him. With prayers of consecration she
+gave herself to the country,--to go wherever duty called, to labor, to
+endure hardship, and brave scenes which would wring out her heart's
+blood,--to face disease and death itself, if need be, to hand down a
+priceless inheritance to the coming ages.
+
+"You will get sick, my child. You have not strength to be a nurse in the
+hospital," said her mother, when Azalia told her that she must go and
+take care of the soldiers.
+
+"I cannot spare you, my daughter," said her father, tenderly taking her
+in his arms, and kissing her ruby lips. She was his only child, and he
+loved her dearly. "I don't think it is your duty to go; and how lonesome
+the house would be without my darling!"
+
+And so, knowing that it was her duty to do whatever her parents wished,
+she tried to be content. But the days dragged wearily. She was ever
+thinking of the soldiers,--thinking through the days and through the
+nights, till the bright bloom faded from her cheek. Her heart was far
+away. Her life was incomplete,--she felt that it was running to waste.
+
+Her father saw that his flower was fading. At last he said, "Go, my
+darling, and God be with you."
+
+"I don't think that Judge Adams ought to let Azalia go into the
+hospital. It isn't a fit place for girls," said Miss Dobb, when she
+heard that Azalia was to be a nurse. But, giving no heed to Miss Dobb,
+with the blessing of her parents following her, she left her pleasant
+home, gave up all its ease and comfort, to minister to the sick and
+wounded, who had fought to save the country.
+
+She went to Washington, and thence to the hospitals at Annapolis. It was
+hard work to stand all day by the side of the sick, bathing their
+fevered brows, moistening their parched lips, binding up their bleeding
+wounds. It was painful to look upon the quivering flesh, torn and
+mangled by cannon-shot. But she learned to bear it all,--to stand calmly
+by, waiting upon the surgeon while he ran his sharp knife into the live
+flesh. It was a pleasure to aid him in his work.
+
+Her step was light upon the floor; soothing and tender the touch of her
+hand. There was no light so sweet and pure as that which beamed from her
+earnest eyes. The sick waited impatiently for her appearance in the
+morning, watched her footsteps through the day, thanked her for all she
+did, and said, "God bless you!" when she bade them good night. Men who
+were in the habit of uttering fearful oaths wept when she talked with
+them about their mothers; she wrote their letters, and read to them the
+words of affection which came from home. She sang the songs they loved
+to hear. It was like wine to the weak. The down-hearted took new
+courage, and those who were well enough to be hobbling about on
+crutches, who were telling stories of the battles, forgot what they were
+saying while listening to her voice. Her presence was noonday, her
+absence night. Once, when through long watching and patient waiting her
+strength gave way, and the fever raged in her own veins, it was touching
+to see their sorrow. The loud-talking spoke in whispers, and walked
+noiselessly along the wards, for fear of increasing the pain which
+racked her aching head; the sick ones, who missed the touch of her
+magic hand, and the sweet music of her voice, and the sunlight of her
+presence, whose fevers were raging because she was absent, when the
+physician went his rounds in the morning, at noon, and at night,
+inquired not about themselves, but her. When the fever passed,--when she
+was well enough to walk through the wards, and hold for a moment the
+hands which were stretched out on every side,--it was as if her very
+presence had power to heal.
+
+How blessed her work!--to give life and strength; to soothe pain, change
+sorrow to joy; to sit beside the dying, and talk of the Lamb of God that
+taketh away the sin of the world; to wipe the dampness of death from
+their brows, listen to their last words, and, when the spirit had flown,
+to close the sightless eyes, and cut from the pale brow a lock of hair
+for a fond mother far away, thinking ever of her dying boy.
+
+So the months went by,--autumn to winter, winter to spring, and spring
+to summer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+UNDER THE OLD FLAG.
+
+
+There was no change at Andersonville, but in the loathsome prison it was
+ever the same terrible scene of starvation, corruption, disease,
+despair, and death. Every morning those who had died during the night
+were collected by the prisoners and laid in rows by the prison gate,
+where, during the day, they were piled upon the dead-cart and borne out
+to the trenches. There was no hope of relief for the living, and each
+prisoner looked forward with indifference to his inevitable fate. Above
+them floated the Rebel flag. They were kept there beneath its folds by
+Jefferson Davis and General Lee, till thirteen thousand had been starved
+and murdered.
+
+Paul knew that, notwithstanding Uncle Peter's constant care and nursing,
+he was growing weaker; but he had learned to look death calmly in the
+face, and so was undisturbed by the prospect. He knew that God, who
+takes care of the sparrows, would not forget his mother, and he felt
+that Azalia would sometimes shed a tear when she thought of him.
+
+But one morning there was an unusual stir among the prisoners. "You are
+to be exchanged and sent home," said the Rebel officers. They had been
+told the same thing so many times, and had been always so cruelly
+deceived, that they did not believe the statement till orders were
+issued for a portion of them to be ready to march to the cars at an
+appointed hour. Paul was among those who were ordered away. All were
+ready in an instant, for they had no baggage to pack up, no knapsacks,
+no equipments, no overcoats,--nothing but the rags upon their bodies.
+
+Those who were so weak that they could scarcely creep from place to
+place rose and stood upon their feet when told that they were to go
+home. Paul felt a fresh wave of life sweep over him, thrilling every
+fibre of his wasted frame. Hope revived. Home! O the blissful thought!
+He rose weak and trembling from his bed on the cold, damp ground,
+wrapped his rags about him, and, leaning on a cane, supported by Uncle
+Peter, hobbled out and took his place in the long line of skeletons,
+and waited with eager eyes to see the gate turn upon its rusty hinges.
+
+It was hard to part with Uncle Peter, who had been so kind to him. "God
+bless you and reward you for all your kindness to me," said Paul,
+bidding him good by, and shaking hands for the last time.
+
+"I'se sorry to part with ye, Kurnel, but I bless de Lord you is gwine.
+We'll meet again one of dese days, whar de Rebs won't trouble us, and
+whar we will be free foreber," said the old negro, looking up into
+heaven. He could not go. He was a slave. There was no freedom for him
+till the rebellion was crushed, or till the grave opened.
+
+The gates turned on their hinges, and the regiment of skeletons in rags
+took up its march. Such a procession never before was seen on earth. A
+thousand emaciated forms, tottering, reeling, hobbling on canes and
+crutches, wending their way to the cars,--not to luxurious cushioned
+seats, but to hard, jolting cattle-cars,--for a long ride of hundreds of
+miles before reaching the sea-coast. But hope inspired them. They were
+breathing fresh air, and were gazing on smiling fields, waving with
+grain. They were on their way home. The birds cheered them, singing of
+home. "Going home, going home!" said the car-wheels, as they passed from
+rail to rail. In joy and gladness they sang:
+
+               "I'm going home, I'm going home,
+                To die no more, to die no more."
+
+It was as if they had left behind them forever all sorrow and suffering,
+and that for them there could be no more distress, or pain, or anguish.
+It was a long, weary, dusty ride. Some died on the way, but hope kept
+most of them alive.
+
+They reached the city of Charleston, passed from the cars to a
+steamboat, which was to take them down the harbor to the place of
+exchange. The waters danced joyfully around them, as if greeting them
+with gladness. The breezes came in from the dark blue ocean and fanned
+their wasted cheeks. The waves, like a loving mother, gently rocked them
+and sung a soothing lullaby. But O what joy to behold once more the dear
+old flag! How serenely and lovingly it floated in the breeze! They
+saluted it with cheers,--shed tears of gratitude,--clasped each other by
+the hand,--rushed into each other's arms. Those who were able to stand
+danced in a delirium of joy! Paul was too weak to sit up. He could only
+lie upon the deck, and gaze upon the flag till his eyes filled with
+tears, and say: "Thank God, I have seen it once more!" Beneath that flag
+there was joy, peace, comfort, food, clothing, and freedom. Hospital
+nurses were there with blankets, and great kettles filled with soup and
+coffee. For the wounded there were bandages; for the sick there were
+cordials, wines, and medicines. There were tender-hearted men, ready to
+relieve all their sufferings. It was like passing from the prison of
+despair into a paradise of peace and rest, and in joy and gladness they
+began to sing,
+
+     "Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."
+
+The strong men on board of the ship, the nurses, and the stout-hearted
+sailors wept like children, and spoke hard words against the Rebels when
+they looked upon the haggard countenances, the hollow cheeks, the sunken
+eyes, of the skeleton forms around them.
+
+Although Paul was so weak that he could hardly lift his hands to his
+head, although his comrades were passing away, although every day he saw
+their bodies, wrapped in hammocks and weighted with shot, cast into the
+sea, yet he never experienced such bliss, such contentment, as while
+lying on the deck through the long summer day, looking up to the old
+flag, and the clear sky, and out upon the calm and peaceful sea,
+thinking of the sea of glass and the great white throne, and the
+calmness, sereneness, and rest of heaven. And at night, when lulled to
+sleep by the rippling waves, how enchanting his dreams of home, of his
+mother, of the scenes of other days,--the old house, the swallows
+twittering around its eaves, the roses blooming beneath the window, the
+night-wind sweeping down the valley, the church-bell ringing the evening
+hour, its deep tolling when the funeral train passed on to the cemetery
+in the shady grove,--his friends welcoming him home once more, Azalia
+among them, queen of the hour, peerless in beauty, with rose bloom on
+her cheek,--of Mr. Chrome, Judge Adams, and Colonel Dare, all saying,
+"We are glad to see you,"--dreaming, and waking, to find it only a
+dream.
+
+But the ship was bearing him on. The distance was lessening. One more
+day, and the voyage would be at an end, the ship in port. O, if he could
+but see his mother once more,--feel her hand upon his brow, her kiss
+upon his lip,--then he could die content! A desire for life set in. Hope
+revived. He would fight death as he had fought the Rebels, and, God
+willing, he would win the victory.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+THE JAWS OF DEATH.
+
+
+The hospital steamer, with its freight of living skeletons, had
+accomplished its voyage in safety, and lay moored at the wharf in
+Annapolis. Nurses and sailors were carrying the emaciated forms from the
+ship to the shore, to the clean and tidy wards of the hospital.
+
+It was a sight which wrung tears from the eyes of those who did not
+often weep. The ship was a charnel-house. Death in its most horrible
+forms was there,--from starvation, from corruption, scurvy, lock-jaw,
+gangrene, consumption, and fever. How ghastly the scene! Men, once
+robust and strong, weak and helpless as babes, with hollow cheeks,
+toothless gums, thin pale lips, colorless flesh, sunken eyes, long,
+tangled hair, uncombed for many months, skeleton fingers with nails like
+eagles' claws, lying in rags upon the deck,--some, with strained eyes,
+looking up for the last time to the dear old flag which waved above
+them, for which they had fought, for which they had starved, for which
+they were dying, gazing in rapture on its blessed folds, till their eyes
+were fixed in death, and the slowly-heaving heart stood still forever!
+They, and all their comrades, sleeping on a hundred battle-fields, and
+mouldering in the trenches at Andersonville, were the victims of
+Jefferson Davis and General Lee, whose names shall rot through all
+coming time.
+
+There was work for the gentle-hearted nurses who stood waiting in the
+hospital wards,--work which required tenderest care;--removing the rags,
+washing the fevered skeletons, bathing the bleeding wounds where the
+sharp bones had pierced the skin; feeding them,--a crumb at a time;
+administering cordials drop by drop, to bring back with delicate nursing
+the receding tides of life.
+
+With a bleeding heart, but yet with steady nerves, Azalia passed among
+them, doing her appointed work. There was one who was lying as if
+asleep, with his hands clasped upon his breast. His beard had been long
+uncut. His cheeks were wasted, his eyes sunken, but he had a manly brow.
+A strange fear and trembling crept over her,--a shuddering of the heart.
+Alarmed and frightened at she knew not what, she brushed back the
+matted hair from his temples, and laid her hand upon his brow, cold and
+damp with the dews of death. The soldier opened his eyes, looked into
+her face, stared wildly around him, and tried to speak. It was but one
+word, and that a whisper,--her own name, "Azalia!"
+
+A cry rang through the ward, startling the physicians and the nurses,
+and waking those who were asleep. She clasped him in her arms, fell upon
+his face, and kissed his wasted lips. "O Paul! Can it be that you are
+here?" she said.
+
+The throbbing of her heart was like the fluttering of a frightened bird.
+Sweet, calm, and beautiful as the setting sun was the smile upon his
+face, and in his eyes the celestial light of Peace! They closed, and he
+lay again as if in slumber.
+
+"They told me that you were dead," she said.
+
+There was no reply; she laid her hand upon his heart, but could feel no
+beating there; touched her fingers to his fleshless wrist, but could
+find no throbbing of the pulse. The thin blood was receding from his
+colorless lips,--the tide was going out. "Doctor! Doctor! O come quick!
+Save him!" she cried.
+
+The doctor came and gazed upon the face of Paul. "He is not quite gone,"
+he said, then moistened his lips with brandy. There was a quickening of
+the pulse. "If he rallies from this, we may save him," he said.
+
+They wrapped him in warm flannels, rubbed his fleshless limbs, and gave
+him cordials, drop by drop. How long the hours,--the weary hours of hope
+and fear,--of expectation and distress,--while the faltering spirit, as
+if tired of earth, was but fluttering awhile along the shore of Time
+before taking its returnless flight over the dark and silent river to
+another land! Through the night Azalia sat by his side, watching him
+with sleepless eyes, fanning his pale brow. The morning sun beamed upon
+her still sitting there. Those who were accustomed to watch for her
+appearance in the early morning, restless with fever, beheld her as
+clothed with celestial brightness, and said one to another, "There sits
+our Angel of Light!"
+
+Through the day she was there, watching the slow heavings of his heart,
+holding her breath while listening to assure herself that he was still
+breathing; hoping and fearing, holding her hands at times upon her own
+heart to still its wild, tumultuous beating,--giving him atom by atom
+the needful nourishment,--bending over him to smooth his
+pillow,--opening the casement for the winds to blow upon his bloodless
+cheek,--thus snatching him from the very jaws of death and winning him
+back to life!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+HOME.
+
+
+A despatch came clicking into the telegraph office in New Hope that Paul
+Parker was alive,--that he had been a prisoner at Andersonville, was
+very feeble, but in a fair way to get well, and would soon be at home.
+It was from Azalia. Mr. Magnet read it in amazement, then ran as fast as
+he could to carry it to the little old cottage. "Good news!" he shouted,
+rushing into the house out of breath, without knocking. "Paul is alive!
+Paul is alive!"
+
+"My son alive!" exclaimed Mrs. Parker, her heart leaping wildly.
+
+"Yes; there is the despatch."
+
+She read it in fear and trembling, her brain in a whirl. She must fly to
+him! O if she only had wings! Paul alive! The old clock took up the
+word, "Alive,--alive,--alive," it said. A robin perched in the great
+maple sang all day, "He is coming home,--is coming home," while the
+swallows from their nests under the eaves looked into the old kitchen
+through the open door, twittering together, as if saying, "How glad we
+are!" Never so bright the sunshine as on that morning, nor so fragrant
+the flowers! All nature was glad, and rejoiced in her joy.
+
+Mr. Magnet told the news through the village, the people listening in
+wonder. Mr. Chrome threw down his paint-brush, took off his old hat,
+swung it over his head, and gave three cheers. Through the day he kept
+saying to himself, "That beats the Dutch!" The children ran through the
+streets shouting, "Paul is alive! Paul is alive!" Father Surplice, Judge
+Adams, Colonel Dare, and the neighbors--a dozen at a time--went down to
+shake hands with Paul's mother, making it such a day of gladness as
+never was known before in New Hope.
+
+Impatiently they waited for the day when Paul would be with them again.
+
+"We will let him know that we have not forgotten him," said Colonel
+Dare; "but it is little that we can do for one who has suffered so
+much."
+
+So also said Judge Adams, and Mr. Capias, and all the people.
+
+The day came at last. He was on board the train, feeble and weak, but
+Azalia was by his side, supporting his weary head,--sustaining him when
+his strength was gone. All New Hope was at the depot to receive him,
+looking with eager eyes down the level track to see the approaching
+train when it rounded the distant curve.
+
+"It is coming! There it is!" shouted the boys. They loved him, their
+dear old teacher. The train stopped, and the conductor came out with
+Paul leaning on his arm, Azalia following. The people were going to
+hurrah, but when they saw how poor, pale, and emaciated he was, how thin
+his cheeks, how hollow and sunken his eyes, how languid and weary, how
+little there was left of one who once was so manly, they held their
+breaths, and felt a strange choking in their throats.
+
+Blessed the meeting of mother and son! He had come back from the grave.
+He was even then almost a corpse, but he was alive! She had no words to
+utter; her joy was silent and deep. She could only clasp him in her
+arms, fold him to her heart, and, looking up to heaven, with streaming
+eyes, give silent thanks to God.
+
+The people bowed their heads and stood in silent reverence. Colonel Dare
+came with his carriage. Mr. Chrome took Paul in his arms, and lifted him
+into it as if he was but a child. The people came one after another and
+touched his hands. The children brought flowers and laid them in his
+arms. They all had words of welcome for Azalia. She had saved him. "God
+bless you, darling!" said her father, kissing her cheeks, still round
+and fair, though watching, anxiety, care, and sorrow had robbed them of
+the bright bloom of other days.
+
+"The Lord sent you in the way, as he sent Joseph into Egypt," said
+Father Surplice.
+
+Deep, tender, and hearty the love of friends! Daphne came with choicest
+delicacies. How pleasant to hear her voice! How cheery her laugh! Mr.
+Noggin brought a box of his best honey. Mr. Chrome, who loved to hunt
+and fish, brought quails and pigeons. Even Miss Dobb sent up to know if
+there was not something that she could get for him. The birds came, the
+robins and swallows, singing and twittering and brimming over with joy.
+
+How enchanting the music which came swelling up the valley from the
+water by the mill, from the woods beyond the river, from the crickets
+in the fields, from the church-bell, blending with the night airs, and
+filling his soul with peace! But more blessed than everything else on
+earth was the holy light which beamed upon him from Azalia's eyes, which
+went down deep into his soul.
+
+"You have always been my angel of light and goodness, and nothing but
+death shall part us," he said, as she sat by his side.
+
+"I am glad if I have helped you, Paul," she said, laying her soft hand
+upon his brow, and kissing his lips. Pure and true the love which had
+deepened through many years, which had beamed from each other's eyes,
+but which till then had never been spoken. Like a brook gushing from
+springs in distant mountains, so, far back in childhood, had been the
+beginning of their affection, and now it was a river.
+
+Day by day his strength returned, the flesh came again upon his wasted
+limbs, and health bloomed upon his cheeks. Then they walked together in
+the garden, talking of the dear old times, and looking onward to a
+future more golden than the sunniest day of all the past.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINNING HIS WAY***
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