The governor had called out a portion of the state militia, and already the tramp of armed men was heard in the neighboring city of Boston.
Thomas Somers was employed in a store in the village, and during the forenoon he mechanically performed the duties of his position; but he could think of nothing but the exciting topic of the day.

His blood was boiling with indignation against those who had trailed our hallowed flag in the dust.

He wanted to do something to redeem the honor of his country--something to wipe out the traitors who had dared to conspire against her peace.

On his way home to dinner, he met Fred Pemberton, who lived only a short distance from his own house.
"What do you think now, Fred ?" said Thomas.
"What do I think?
I think just as I always did--the North is wrong, and the South is right," replied Fred.
"Who fired upon Fort Sumter?
That's the question," said Thomas, his eyes flashing with indignation.
"Why didn't they give up the fort, then ?" "Give up the fort! Shall the United States cave in before the little State of South Carolina.

Not by a two chalks!" "I think the North has been teasing and vexing the South till the Southerns can't stand it any longer.