Sort of rag-jacketed cadets, we are, small potatoes, and few in a hill." The teacher rose and laid a hand on his arm.

He turned toward her.

The lamplight shone upon her face, and he saw, to his astonishment, that there were tears in her eyes.
"Cap'n Whittaker," she said, "will you take an other recruit?
I should like to enlist, please." "You?
Oh, pshaw! I'm thick-headed to-night.

I didn't see the joke of it at first." "There isn't any joke.

I want you to know that I admire you for the fight you're making.