Barclay felt the man's attention, and whirling about in his chair licking an envelope flap, he said, "Well, General--what's on your mind ?" "I was just thinking of Lucy--that's all," replied the general.
Barclay knew that the Wards had gone through the winter on less than one hundred dollars, and it occurred to the younger man that times might be rather hard in the Ward household.

So he asked, "Are you worried about money matters, General ?" The general's smile broadened to a grin.

"Well, to be exact, Lucy and I just counted cash--it's in her pocketbook, and we find our total cash assets are eight dollars and thirty-nine cents, and it's got to tide us over till grass." He stroked his lean chin, and ran his hands through his iron-gray hair and went on, "That's plenty, the way we've figured it out--Lucy and I only eat one meal a day anyway, and the children seem to eat all the time and that averages it up." He smiled deprecatingly and added: "But Lucy's got her heart set on a little matter, and we've decided to spend eighty-seven cents, as you might say riotously, and get it.

That's what we were talking about." Barclay entered into the spirit of Ward's remarks and put in: "But the National debt, General--if you have all that money to spare, why don't you pay it off?
Practise what you preach, General." The smile faded from Ward's face.

He was not a man to joke on what he regarded as sacred things.