He could see himself in a room of warm tints telling tales to listener.

He could exhibit laurels.

They were insignificant; still, in a district where laurels were infrequent, they might shine.
He saw his gaping audience picturing him as the central figure in blazing scenes.

And he imagined the consternation and the ejaculations of his mother and the young lady at the seminary as they drank his recitals.

Their vague feminine formula for beloved ones doing brave deeds on the field of battle without risk of life would be destroyed..