The moment when he obtained his last view of the home of his childhood
seemed like the most eventful period of his existence. His heart grew big
in his bosom, and yet not big enough to contain all he felt. He wept
again, and his tears seemed to come from deeper down than his eyes. He did
not hear the inspiring strains of the band, or the cheers that greeted the
company as they went forth to do and die for their country's imperilled
cause.

"Blubbering again, Tom?" sneered Ben Lethbridge. "I thought you was more
of a man than that, Tom Somers."

"I can't help it, Ben," replied Tom, vainly struggling to subdue his
emotions.

"Better go back, then. We don't want a great baby in the ranks."

"It's nateral, Ben," said old Hapgood. "He'll get over it when he sees the
rebels."

"Don't believe he will. I didn't think you were such a great calf, Tom."

"Shet up, now, Ben," interposed Hapgood. "I'll bet my life he'll stand
fire as well as you will. I've been about in the world some, and I reckon
I've as good an idee of this business as you have. Tom's got a heart under
his ribs."

"I'll bet he runs away at the first fire."

"I'll bet he won't."