“No,” I could not help admitting; “but——”
“But What?——in the name of sense.”
“I am not decidedly hungry, and would like to walk a mile or two further before I stop.”
“O, nonsense! Come in!” And he opened the gate with such an air that I could not have remained in the road without insulting him. “Did you say you intended to walk to Hagerstown?”
“Yes, sir; such is my intention.”
“Well, you mustn’t think of it. Come in, take dinner and rest awhile, and I will hitch up to my spring wagon and take you to Hagerstown in less time than it would take you to walk a mile! Come.”
I could no longer resist, and allowed myself to be smiled and welcomed into the house. The good people therein—an elderly lady and her daughter—were somewhat astonished when I told them of my walk of the previous day.
“Is it possible you couldn’t get a wagon?” said the old gentleman.
“I could not.”
“If I had known it,” said he, while his noble heart shone out all over his face, “I would have hitched up and come down for you! Surely, there ought to have been some one there—However, people get pretty hard-hearted where soldiers are quartered so long.”