aged twenty-nine years. He died for his namesake and his native land."

Quincy said interrogatively, "Did you lose a son in the war?"

"No," was the reply. "I never had a son. That was my substitute."

"Strange that your substitute should have the same name as yourself."

"Yes, it would have been if he had, but he didn't. His right name was
Lemuel Butters. But I didn't propose to put my money into such a name as
that."

"Were you drafted?" asked Quincy.

"No," said Uncle Ike. "I might as well tell you the whole story, for you
seem bound to have it. I came down here in 1850, when I was about sixty.
Of course I knew what was going on, but I didn't take much interest in
the war, till a lot of soldiers went by one day. They stopped here; we
had a talk, and they told me a number of things that I hadn't seen in
the papers. I haven't read the daily papers for thirteen years, but I
take some weeklies and the magazines and buy some books. Well, the next
day I went over to Eastborough Centre and asked the selectmen how much
it would cost to send a man to the war. They said substitutes were
bringing $150 just then, but that I was over age and couldn't be
drafted, and there was no need of my sending anybody. I remarked that in
my opinion a man's patriotism ought not to die out as long as he lived.
It seemed to me that if a man had $150 it was his duty to pay for a
substitute, if he was a hundred. The selectmen said that they had a
young fellow named Lem Butters who was willing to go if he got a hundred
and fifty. So I planked down the money, but with the understanding that