"Cyrus, my boy! Go away?"

"Yes, father; President Linkern has called for soldiers; father, you have always taught me to obey the voice of Duty. That voice summons me now."

"God in heaven," I thought, "you have given us this child only to take him from us!"

But then came the second thought: "Steady, Reuben! You are a man; be a man! Steady, Reuben; be a man!"

"Yer mother," sez I, "yer mother—it will break her heart!"

"She leaves it all to you, father."

"But—the other—the other, Cyrus—leetle Lizzie—ye know!"

"She is content," sez he.

A storm swep' through me like a cyclone. It wuz all Bill's fault; that warrior-name had done it all—the cyclopeedy with its lies had pizened Bill's mind to put this trouble on me an' mine!

No, no, a thousand times no! These wuz coward feelin's an' they misbecome me; the ache herein this heart uv mine had no business there. The better part uv me called to me an' said: "Pull yourself together, Reuben Ketcham, and be a man!"

Well, after he went away, leetle Lizzie wuz more to us 'n ever before; wuz at our house all the time; called Lizzie "mother"; wuz contented, in her woman's way, willin' to do her part, waitin' an' watchin' an' prayin' for him to come back. They sent him boxes of good things every fortnight, mother an' leetle Lizzie did; there wuz n't a minute uv the day that they wuz n't talkin' or thinkin' uv him.

Well—ye—see—I must tell it my own way—he got killed. In the very first battle Cyrus got killed. The rest uv the soldiers turnt to retreat, because there wuz too many for 'em on the other side. But Cyrus stood right up; he wuz the warrior Bill allowed he wuz goin' to be; our boy wuz n't the kind to run. They tell me there wuz bullet holes here, an' here, an' here—all over his breast. We always knew our boy wuz a hero!

Ye can thank God ye wuz n't at the 'jinin' farms when the news come that he 'd got killed. The neighbors, they were there, of course, to kind uv hold us up an' comfort us. Bill an' I sot all day in the woodshed, holdin' hands an' lookin' away from each other, so; never said a word; jest sot there, sympathizin' an' holdin' hands. If we 'd been women, Bill an' I would uv cried an' beat our forrids an' hung round each other's neck, like the womenfolks done. Bein' we wuz men, we jest set there in the woodshed, away from all the rest, holdin' hands an' sympathizin'.

From that time on, leetle Lizzie wuz our daughter—our very daughter, all that wuz left to us uv our boy. She never shed a tear; crep' like a shadder 'round the house an' up the front walk an' through the garden. Her heart wuz broke. You could see it in the leetle lambkin's eyes an' hear it in her voice. Wanted to tell her sometimes when she kissed me and called me "father"—wanted to tell her, "Leetle Lizzie, let me help ye bear yer load. Speak out the sorrer that's in yer broken heart; speak it out, leetle one, an' let me help yer bear yer load!"

But it is n't for a man to have them feelin's—leastwise, it is n't for him to tell uv 'em. So I held my peace and made no sign.

She jest drooped, an' pined, an' died. One mornin' in the spring she wuz standin' in the garden, an' all at oncet she threw her arms up, so, an' fell upon her face, an' when they got to her all thet wuz left to us uv leetle Lizzie wuz her lifeless leetle body. I can't tell of what happened next—uv the funeral an' all that. I said this wuz in the spring, an' so it wuz all around us; but it wuz cold and winter here.

One day mother sez to me: "Reuben," sez she, softlike, "Marthy an' I is goin' to the buryin' ground for a spell. Don't you reckon it would be a good time for you to step over an' see Bill while we 're gone?"

"Mebbe so, mother," sez I.

It wuz a pretty day. Cuttin' across lots, I thought to myself what I 'd say to Bill to kind uv comfort him. I made it up that I 'd speak about the time when we wuz boys together; uv how we used to slide down the meetin'-house hill, an' go huckleberryin'; uv how I jumped into the pond one day an' saved him from bein' drownded; uv the spellin' school, the huskin' bees, the choir meetin's, the sparkin' times; of the swimmin' hole, the crow's nest in the pine-tree, the woodchuck's hole in the old pasture lot; uv the sunny summer days an' the snug winter nights when we wuz boys, an' happy! And then——

No, no! I could n't go on like that! I 'd break down. A man can't be a man more 'n jest so far!

Why did mother send me over to see Bill? I 'd better stayed to home! I felt myself chokin' up; if I had n't took a chew uv terbacker, I 'd 'ave been cryin', in a minute!

The nearer I got to Bill's, the worst I hated to go in. Standin' on the stoop, I could hear the tall clock tickin' solemnly inside—"tick-tock, tick-tock," jest as plain as if I wuz settin' aside uv it. The door wuz shet, yet I knew jest what Bill wuz doin'; he was settin' in the old red easy-chair, lookin' down at the floor—like this. Strange, ain't it, how sometimes when you love folks you know jest what they 're doin', without knowin' anything about it!

There warn't no use knockin', but I knocked three times; so. Did n't say a word; only jest knocked three times—that a-way. Did n't hear no answer—nothin' but the tickin' uv the tall clock; an' yet I knew that Bill heered me an' that down in his heart he was sayin' to me to come in. He never said a word, yet I knowed all the time Bill wuz sayin' for me to come in.

I opened the door, keerful-like, an' slipped in. Did n't say nothin'; jest opened the door, softly-like, an' slipped in. There set Bill jist as I knowed he was settin', lonesome-like, sad-like; his head hangin' down; he never looked up at me; never said a word—knowed I wuz there all the time, but never said a word an' never made a sign.

How changed Bill wuz—oh, Bill, how changed ye wuz! There wuz furrers in yer face an' yer hair wuz white—as white as—as white as mine! Looked small about the body, thin an' hump-shouldered.

Jest two ol' men, that's what we wuz; an' we had been boys together!

Well, I stood there a spell, kind uv hesitatin' like, neither uv us sayin' anything, until bimeby Bill he sort of made a sign for me to set down. Did n't speak, did n't lift his eyes from the floor; only made a sign, like this, in a weak, tremblin' way—that wuz all. An' I set down, and there we both set, neither uv us sayin' a word, but both settin' there, lovin' each other an' sympathize' as hard as we could, for that is the way with men.

Bimeby, like we 'd kind uv made it up aforehand, we hitched up closer, for when folks is in sorrer an' trouble they like to be closte together. But not a word all the time, an' hitchin' closer an' closer together, why, bimeby we set side by side. So we set a spell longer, lovin' an' sympathizin', as men-folks do; thinkin' uv the old times, uv our boyhood; thinkin' uv the happiness uv the past an' uv all the hopes them two children had brought us! The tall clock ticked, an' that wuz all the sound there wuz, excep' when Bill gin a sigh an' I gin a sigh, too—to lighten the load, ye know.

Not a word come from either of us: 't wuz all we could do to set there, lovin' each other an' sympathizin'!

All at oncet—for we could n't stand it no longer—all at oncet we turnt our faces t' other way an' reached out, so, an' groped with our hands, this way, till we found an' held each other fast in a clasp uv tender meanin'.

Then—God forgive me if I done a wrong—then I wisht I wuz a woman! For, bein' a woman, I could have riz up, an', standin' so, I could have cried: "Come, Bill! come, let me hold you in these arms; come, let us weep together, an' let this broken heart uv mine speak through these tremblin' lips to that broken heart uv yourn, Bill, tellin' ye how much I love ye an' sympathize with ye!"

But—no! I wuz not a woman! I wuz a man! an', bein' a man, I must let my heart break; I must hold my peace, an' I must make no sign.