"Drat the thing!" she said, feeling blindly for a handkerchief. "Never heard tell o' such foolishness, making a body cry about nothing!"
Joel Banks sat with a knotted hand over his eyes, dreaming old dreams of days long past, days when he was young and athrill with the joy of living.
"How about a little dance music now?" asked Bob, glancing over at
Doctor Dale, who nodded his consent.
"Surely," he replied. "We have to have some dance music nowadays to please the young folks."
The little cripples received this suggestion with enthusiasm and fairly shouted with delight as the snappy tune of the latest fox trot floated into the room.
"That's the stuff!" shouted Dick Winters, and the boys grinned at him.
Later they had a minstrel show that sent them all into gales of laughter. Joel Banks and Aunty Bixby were as sorry as the young folks when it was over.
Then suddenly, without warning, the stirring strains of the Star Spangled Banner filled the room, played by a master band. Suddenly, as though by some common instinct, all eyes were turned upon Joel Banks. There was a light in the old veteran's eyes, a straightening of his whole sagging figure.
He tried to rise, faltered, felt two pairs of strong young arms lifting him, supporting him, as Bob and Joe sprang to his aid. He stood there, his hand at stiff salute, in his old eyes the fire of battle, until the last stirring note died away and the music was still. Then he sank into a chair, shaking his old head feebly.
"Those were the days!" he muttered under his breath. "Those were the good old days!"