Harper's Round Table, July 2, 1895

Copyright, 1895, by Harper & Brothers. All Rights Reserved.

The male population of Middleton, Ohio, in the early summer of 186- appeared to consist altogether of old men and boys. True, a few young men, most of them dressed in blue coats with brass buttons, were to be seen on the streets, but nearly all of them carried their arms in slings, and one tall lad of twenty, who had once been the best runner in the village, hobbled along on crutches, with an empty trouser leg pinned up at the knee.
One bright morning three Middleton boys were sitting astride the top rail of a zigzag fence that ran along a hillside at the edge of a thicket of underbrush. A long Kentucky rifle lay across a near-by log. One of the boys held in his hand a glass bottle slopped with a bit of rag. Another had on a leather belt with U.S. on the brass plate—upside down. The third boy was digging at the rail with a dull jackknife.
I came near to running away and goin' as a drummer-boy, said the youngster with the belt, but they wouldn't take me on account of my age. I'll be old enough this fall, he added. Then you'll see.
Your mother wouldn't let you go, Skinny, said the boy with the bottle. She told Grandad that two was enough.
Father'd let me go if he warn't with Sherman, said Skinny, and brother Bill said I drummed good enough.
My father wants me to stay home and look after ma, the second boy sighed. There had been no news of his father for six months, now.
I've got a letter from Alfred, written jes before he was taken prisoner, I guess, said the third boy, closing his knife. He drew out of his pocket an envelope with the picture of an American flag on it.
Go on and read it to us, said the oldest boy, wriggling himself up closer. And Hosmer Curtis began—following the words with his thumb:
Crumms's Landing .