He had looked at the youth for encouragement several times.

He received none, but gradually he seemed to get absorbed in his subject.
"I was talkin' 'cross pickets with a boy from Georgie, onct, an' that boy, he ses, 'Your fellers 'll all run like hell when they onct hearn a gun,' he ses.

'Mebbe they will,' I ses, 'but I don't b'lieve none of it,' I ses; 'an' b'jiminey,' I ses back t' 'um, 'mebbe your fellers 'll all run like hell when they onct hearn a gun,' I ses.

He larfed.

Well, they didn't run t' day, did they, hey?
No, sir! They fit, an' fit, an' fit." His homely face was suffused with a light of love for the army which was to him all things beautiful and powerful.
After a time he turned to the youth.