Captain Barney’s wagon was at the station, and before going to his own home, he drove Tom to the little cottage of his father.  I cannot describe the emotions of the returned soldier when the horse stopped at the garden gate.  Leaping from the vehicle, he rushed into the house, and bolted into the kitchen, even before the family had seen the horse at the front gate.

“How d’ye do, mother?” cried Tom, as he threw himself pell-mell into the arms of Mrs. Somers.

“Why, Tom!” almost screamed she, as she returned his embrace.  “How do you do?”

“Pretty well, mother.  How do you do, father?”

“Glad to see you,” replied Captain Somers, as he seized his son’s hand.

“Bless my soul, Tom!” squeaked gran’ther Greene, shaking in every fibre of his frame from the combined influence of rhapsody and rheumatism.

Tom threw both arms around Jenny’s neck, and kissed her half a dozen times with a concussion like that of a battery of light artillery.

“Why, Tom!  I never thought nothin’ of seein’ you!” exclaimed Mrs. Somers.  “I thought you was sick in the hospital.”

“I am better now, and home for thirty days.”

“And got your new rig on,” added his father.

“Captain Barney wouldn’t let me come home without my shoulder-straps.  I met him in the city.  He paid the bills.”

“I’ll make it all right with him.”

“I’ll pay for it by and by.  You know I have over a hundred dollars a month now.”

“Gracious me!” ejaculated Mrs. Somers, as she gazed with admiration upon the new and elegant uniform which covered the fine form of her darling boy.

Presently Captain Barney came into the house, and for two hours Tom fought his battles over again, to the great satisfaction of his partial auditors.  The day passed off amid the mutual rejoicings of the parties; and the pleasure of the occasion was only marred by the thought, on the mother’s part, that her son must soon return to the scene of strife.

The soldier boy—­we beg his pardon; Lieutenant Somers—­hardly went out of the house until after dinner on the following day, when he took a walk down to the harbor, where he was warmly greeted by all his friends.  Even Squire Pemberton seemed kindly disposed towards him, and asked him many questions in regard to Fred. Before he went home, he was not a little startled to receive an invitation to meet some of his friends in the town hall in the evening, which it was impossible for him to decline.

At the appointed hour, he appeared at the hall, which was filled with people.  The lieutenant did not know what to make of it, and trembled before his friends as he had never done before the enemies of his country.  He was cheered lustily by the men, and the women waved their handkerchiefs, as though he had been a general of division.  But his confusion reached the climax when Captain Barney led him upon the platform, and Mr. Boltwood, a young lawyer resident in Pinchbrook, proceeded to address him in highly complimentary terms, reviewing his career at Bull Run, on the Shenandoah, on the Potomac, to its culmination at Williamsburg, and concluded by presenting him the sword which the captain had purchased, in behalf of his friends and admirers in his native town.