“So you gained the prize, Frank?” said his father approvingly.  “I am very glad to hear it.  It does you great credit.  I hope none were envious of your success.”

“Most of the boys seemed glad of it,” was the reply; “but John Haynes was angry because he didn’t get it himself.  He declared that I succeeded only because I was a favorite with Mr. Rathburn.”

“I am afraid he has not an amiable disposition.  However, we must remember that his home influences haven’t been the best.  His mother’s death was unfortunate for him.”

“I heard at the store that you and Squire Haynes had a discussion at the war meeting,” said Frank inquiringly.  “How was it, father?”

“It was on the question of voting a bounty to our volunteers.  I felt that such a course would be only just.  The squire objected on the ground that our taxes would be considerably increased.”

“And how did the town vote?”

“They sustained my proposition, much to the squire’s indignation.  He doesn’t seem to feel that any sacrifices ought to be expected of him.”

“What is the prospect of obtaining the men, father?”

“Four have already enlisted, but twenty-one are still required.  I fear there will be some difficulty in obtaining the full number.  In a farming town like ours the young men are apt to go off to other places as soon as they are old enough; so that the lot must fall upon some who have families.”

Frank sat for some minutes gazing thoughtfully into the wood-fire that crackled in the fireplace.

“I wish I was old enough to go, father,” he said, at length.

“I wish you were,” said his father earnestly.  “Not that it wouldn’t be hard to send you out into the midst of perils; but our duty to our country ought to be paramount to our personal preferences.”

“There’s another reason,” he said, after awhile, “why I wish you were older.  You could take my place on the farm, and leave me free to enlist.  I should have no hesitation in going.  I have not forgotten that my grandfather fought at Bunker Hill.”

“I know, father,” said Frank, nodding; “and that’s his musket that hangs up in your room, isn’t it?”

“Yes; it was his faithful companion for three years.  I often think with pride of his services.  I have been trying to think all day whether I couldn’t make some arrangement to have the farm carried on in my absence; but it is very hard to obtain a person in whom I could confide.”

“If I were as good a manager as some,” said Mrs. Frost, with a smile, “I would offer to be your farmer; but I am afraid that, though my intentions would be the best, things would go on badly under my administration.”

“You have enough to do in the house, Mary,” said her husband.  “I should not wish you to undertake the additional responsibility, even if you were thoroughly competent.  I am afraid I shall have to give up the idea of going.”