The agony of that hour, each had borne in silence and alone.

No shadow should fall across this sunny day.
By the side of the grave, in its little palisaded enclosure, they lingered, the father recalling the days of his earlier manhood, which had been brightened by a love whose fragrance he had cherished and shared with his son through their years together, Barry listening with reverent attention and tender sympathy.
"I had always planned that I too should be laid here, Barry," said his father, as they prepared to take their departure, "but do you know, boy, this war has made many changes in me and this is one.

It seems to me a very little thing where my body lies, if it be offered, as you were saying so beautifully yesterday, in sacrifice to our cause." Barry could only nod his head in reply.

He was deeply moved.
"You are young, Barry," said his father, noting his emotion, "and life is very dear to you, my boy." "No, dad, no! Not life," said Barry brokenly.

"Not life, only you, dad.
I just want you, and, oh dad!" continued the boy, losing hold of himself and making no effort to check or hide the tears that ran down his face, "if one of us is to go in this war,--as is likely enough,--I only want that the other should be there at the time.