For a little space the campaign, the war, and all their hardships floated away from them, their minds absorbed thoroughly in the difficult game which had come in the dim past out of the East.

They did not see anything around them nor did they hear Harry as he approached them with the heavy sack of apples upon his back.
Harry's affection for both of the colonels was strong and as he looked at them he realized more than ever their utter unworldliness.

He, although a youth, saw that they belonged to a passing era, but in their very unworldliness lay their attraction.

He knew that whatever the fortunes of the war, they would, if they lived, prove good citizens after its close.

All rancor--no, not rancor, because they felt none--rather all hostility would be buried on the battlefield, and the friend whom they would be most anxious to see and welcome was John Carrington, the great Northern artilleryman, who had done their cause so much damage.
He opened his sack and let the red waterfall of apples pour down at their feet.