Fair (quietly).  I sometimes think of it, and then a great wave of terror seems to pass over me and leave me frantic at the thought.  I feel as though I must tear things with my hands and scream, and go out too with them and fight—­just to be near them.  And then I feel ashamed to seem so weak.  And then I think about the day they brought Phil’s body home, and how mother didn’t shed a tear.  She looked so strange and white, as we walked down through the garden to the grave, I took her hand; it was like marble!  Then she looked down at Bev on one side and at me close by her on the other, and softly smiled—­smiled as she does when she is very proud and pleased.  She spoke just as we came close by the grave.  We three stood very near to Phil, and as they lifted him, she spoke:  “He was the first, and I have loved him best,” and then she smiled again, and softly drew away her hand and laid it for one moment on the coffin, as though caressing it.  Then bending close down by his side, she spoke, as though to him:  “Well done, my own soldier man!  The heavenly hosts are proud of your enlistment!” (A pause).  You wonder then that I’m ashamed to show my fear of losing Bev?

Char.  Heroes like that are born—­not made.

[Enter from the garden Mrs. S. and Col.  S., and Bev who walks
between them.  He is talking eagerly, as though afraid of
opposition.  Col.  S. looks troubled.  Mrs. S. looks strangely
pale and quiet.

Bev.  And, father, you see it’s nearly finished now.  Of course, I’ll wait till George has a place for me; but Fair and I just wanted to be all ready.  She did it all herself. (He holds up the coat).  And it fits too, all except one place, and she’ll fix that.  Oh, father, mother, you’ll let me go—­sometime—­of course, not now—­but when I’m needed.

Col.  S. You shall go when the right time comes.  When George comes, have your talk with him.  First, your duty as a soldier is always to obey.  Do as he says.  Ride straight; you can do that already.  Shoot straight; that you can learn.  Live straight; that you will do.  And last of all, if need be, boy, die with your face straight to the front.

Bev (clasping his hand and looking up into his face).  Oh, father, if I only get the chance, I’ll show you I can do them all!

Mrs. S. And when you’ve ridden and fought and lived as straight as I, your mother, know you will, there’s one thing more for me to ask—­(she softly lays her hand on his hair, looking down into his face)—­Oh, little Bev, my own, own little boy, let your last ride be straight back home to me.

[She kisses him.

[During this last speech Aunt Marthy has come out on the porch
with the supper bell in her hand.  She is about to ring it
when she pauses listening, looking off down the road.

Aunt M.  ’Pears like I hears a hoss, er lot ob hosses.  Dar de is, galloping on de gret rode!

[All the others turn to listen.