Zeke’s chief competitor for Susie’s favor had been Zebulon Jarvis; and while he had received little encouragement, he laid his unostentatious devotion at her feet unstintedly, and she knew it.  Indeed, she was much inclined to laugh at him, for he was singularly bashful, and a frown from her overwhelmed him.  Unsophisticated Susie reasoned that any one who could be so afraid of her could not be much of a man.  She had never heard of his doing anything bold and spirited.  It might be said, indeed, that the attempt to wring a livelihood for his widowed mother and for his younger brothers and sisters from the stumpy, rocky farm required courage of the highest order; but it was not of a kind that appealed to the fancy of a romantic young girl.  Nothing finer or grander had Zebulon attempted before the recruiting officer came to Opinquake, and when he came, poor Zeb appeared to hang back so timorously that he lost what little place he had in Susie’s thoughts.  She was ignorant of the struggle taking place in his loyal heart.  More intense even than his love for her was the patriotic fire which smouldered in his breast; yet when other young men were giving in their names and drilling on the village green, he was absent.  To the war appeals of those who sought him, he replied briefly.  “Can’t leave till fall.”

“But the fighting will be over long before that,” it was urged.

“So much the better for others, then, if not for me.”

Zeke Watkins made it his business that Susie should hear this reply in the abbreviated form of, “So much the better, then.”

She had smiled scornfully, and it must be added, a little bitterly.  In his devotion Zeb had been so helpless, so diffidently unable to take his own part and make advances that she, from odd little spasms of sympathy, had taken his part for him, and laughingly repeated to herself in solitude all the fine speeches which she perceived he would be glad to make.  But, as has been intimated, it seemed to her droll indeed that such a great stalwart fellow should appear panic-stricken in her diminutive presence.  In brief, he had been timidity embodied under her demurely mischievous blue eyes; and now that the recruiting officer had come and marched away with his squad without him, she felt incensed that such a chicken-hearted fellow had dared to lift his eyes to her.

“It would go hard with the Widow Jarvis and all those children if Zeb ’listed,” Susie’s mother had ventured in half-hearted defence, for did she not look upon him as a promising suitor.

“The people of Opinquake wouldn’t let the widow or the children starve,” replied Susie, indignantly.  “If I was a big fellow like him, my country would not call me twice.  Think how grandfather left grandma and all the children!”

“Well, I guess Zeb thinks he has his hands full wrastling with that stony farm.”

“He needn’t come to see me any more, or steal glances at me ’tween meetings on Sunday,” said the girl, decisively.  “He cuts a sorry figure beside Zeke Watkins, who was the first to give in his name, and who began to march like a soldier even before he left us.”