“I thought that would fetch him!”

Then she fell to work like an inspired woman; and at noon a sumptuous dinner “smoked upon the board;” the children were scrubbed till their faces shone; and the room was as fresh and neat as any apartment could be with the penetrating perfume of burnt flapjacks still pervading the air, and three dozen ruffled nightcaps decorating the clothes-lines overhead.

“Tell me the instant minute you see Pa a comin’, and I’ll dish up the gravy,” was Mrs. Wilkins’s command, as she stepped in with a cup of tea for old “Harm,” as she called Hepsey’s mother.

“He’s a comin’, Ma!” called Gusty, presently.

“No, he ain’t:  it’s a trainer,” added Ann Lizy.

“Yes, ’tis Pa! oh, my eye! ain’t he stunnin’!” cried Wash, stricken for the first time with admiration of his sire.

Before Mrs. Wilkins could reply to these conflicting rumors her husband walked in, looking as martial as his hollow chest and thin legs permitted, and, turning his cap nervously in his hands, said half-proudly, half-reproachfully: 

“Now, Cynthy, be you satisfied?”

“Oh, my Lisha!  I be, I be!” and the inconsistent woman fell upon his buttony breast weeping copiously.

If ever a man was praised and petted, admired and caressed, it was Elisha Wilkins that day.  His wife fed him with the fat of the land, regardless of consequences; his children revolved about him with tireless curiosity and wonder; his neighbors flocked in to applaud, advise, and admire; every one treated him with a respect most grateful to his feelings; he was an object of interest, and with every hour his importance increased, so that by night he felt like a Commander-in-Chief, and bore himself accordingly.  He had enlisted in David’s regiment, which was a great comfort to his wife; for though her stout heart never failed her, it grew very heavy at times; and when Lisha was gone, she often dropped a private tear over the broken pipe that always lay in its old place, and vented her emotions by sending baskets of nourishment to Private Wilkins, which caused that bandy-legged warrior to be much envied and cherished by his mates.

“I’m glad I done it; for it will make a man of Lisha; and, if I’ve sent him to his death, God knows he’ll be fitter to die than if he stayed here idlin’ his life away.”

Then the good soul openly shouldered the burden she had borne so long in secret, and bravely trudged on alone.

“Another great battle!” screamed the excited news-boys in the streets.  “Another great battle!” read Letty in the cottage parlor.  “Another great battle!” cried David, coming in with the war-horse expression on his face a month or two after he enlisted.

The women dropped their work to look and listen; for his visits were few and short, and every instant was precious.  When the first greetings were over, David stood silent an instant, and a sudden mist came over his eyes as he glanced from one beloved face to another; then he threw back his head with the old impatient gesture, squared his shoulders, and said in a loud, cheerful voice, with a suspicious undertone of emotion in it, however: