How was he overcome so easily?
He had not intended to go.

His face was streaked with the grease and dirt of his work--he looked like a foundry man or machinist, say twenty-five years of age.

Frank watched the little squad disappear at the end of the street round the corner under the trees.
This current war-spirit was strange.

The people seemed to him to want to hear nothing but the sound of the drum and fife, to see nothing but troops, of which there were thousands now passing through on their way to the front, carrying cold steel in the shape of guns at their shoulders, to hear of war and the rumors of war.

It was a thrilling sentiment, no doubt, great but unprofitable.