CHAPTER XVII. OBEYING ORDERS

CHAPTER XVIII. SOUTH AND NORTH

CHAPTER XIX. ENTERED FOR THE WAR



CHAPTER I.

MISS PINSHON.

I want an excuse to myself for writing my own life; an excuse
for the indulgence of going it all over again, as I have so
often gone over bits. It has not been more remarkable than
thousands of others. Yet every life has in it a thread of
present truth and possible glory. Let me follow out the truth
to the glory.

The first bright years of my childhood I will pass. They were
childishly bright. They lasted till my eleventh summer. Then
the light of heavenly truth was woven in with the web of my
mortal existence; and whatever the rest of the web has been,
those golden threads have always run through it all the rest
of the way. Just as I reached my birthday that summer and was
ten years old, I became a Christian.

For the rest of that summer I was a glad child. The brightness
of those days is a treasure safe locked up in a chamber of my
memory. I have known other glad times too in my life; other