Thousands of loving and devoted mothers have given their sons to their country in the same holy enthusiasm that inspired her.  She was not a solitary instance of this noble sacrifice, and if both her sons had been men, instead of boys, she would not have interposed a single objection to their departure upon a mission so glorious as that to which Thomas had now devoted himself.

“There’s my name, Thomas,” said his mother, as she took off her spectacles.  “I’ve done it, and you have my free consent.  You’ve always been a good boy, and I hope you will always be a good soldier.”

“I shall always try to do my duty, mother; and if ever I turn my back to a rebel, I hope you’ll disown me.”

“Good, Tom!” exclaimed John, who had been deeply interested in the event of the hour.

“Well, Thomas, I’d rather face two rebels than that bull dog you fit with t’other night,” added gran’ther Greene.  “You are as bold as a lion, Thomas.”

“Do you think I can stand it, gran’ther?” added Tom, with a smile.

“Stand it?  Well, Thomas, it’s a hard life to be a soldier, and I know something about it.  When we marched from—­”

“Dinner’s ready,” interposed Mrs. Somers, for gran’ther Greene had marched that march so many times that every member of the family knew it by heart.

“There’s one good thing about it, Tom,” said John:  “you have got a first-rate captain.”

“I’m thankful you are going with Captain Benson, for if there ever was a Christian in Pinchbrook, he is the man,” added Mrs. Somers.

“And all the company will be your own friends and neighbors,” said gran’ther Greene; “and that’s something, I can tell you.  I know something about this business.  When we marched from—­”

“Have some more beans, brother?” asked Mrs. Somers.  “You will be among your friends, Thomas, as gran’ther says.”

“That’s a great thing, I can tell you,” added the veteran.  “Soldiers should stick together like brothers, and feel that they are fighting for each other, as well as for the country.  Then, when you’re sick, you want friends.  When we marched from Sackett’s Harbor, there was a young feller—­”

“Have some more tea, brother?”

“Part of a cup, Nancy,” replied the old man, who never took offence even when the choicest stories of his military experience were nipped in the bud.

After dinner, Thomas hastened back to the store.  That day seemed to him like an epoch in his existence, as indeed it was.  He felt that he belonged to his country now, and that the honor of that old flag, which had been insulted by traitors, was committed to his keeping.  He was taking up the work where his grandfather had left it.  He was going forth to fight for his country, and the thought inspired him with a noble and generous enthusiasm, before which all the aspirations of his youth vanished.

As he passed the house of Squire Pemberton, he bestowed a pitying reflection upon the old traitor; but his mind was so full of the great event which was dawning upon him, that he did not even think of the exciting incidents which had occurred there.  He had neither seen nor heard any thing of the squire since he had escaped from the attic chamber.