The Bench and Bar will review my services to the country, the militia will fire a few volleys at my graveside, here and there a flag will be at half-mast, and that will be the end--" He was so profoundly moved by the thought that he could not go on.

His voice broke, and he buried his face in his arms.

A sympathetic moisture had gathered in the child's eyes.

He understood only a small part of what his host was saying, but realized that it had to do with death, and he had his own terrible acquaintance with death.

He slipped from his chair and stole to the judge's side, and that gentleman felt a cool hand rest lightly on his arm.
"What ?" he said, glancing up.
"I'm mighty sorry you're going to die," said the boy softly.
"Bless you, Hannibal!" cried the judge, looking wonderfully cheerful, despite his recent bitterness of spirit.