"No, I'd never be drafted!" and Rob's fair face flushed with a boy's impulsive indignation; "I'd go at once,—at the first call."
"But if you were a man and had a wife, as well as bairnies, three or four, or half a dozen, and were compelled to leave them to poverty?"
"There is the bounty, and the pay."
"Neither of which would be as much as a man could earn in a year at home. And if he never came back—"
"But, Uncle Robert, don't you think it right for a man to be patriotic?" asked his nephew, in a little amaze.
"Yes. One can never approve of cowardice in any act of life. Still, I fancy there may be a great many brave and good men who have not volunteered, and who, if they are drafted, will do their country loyal service. It may not look quite so heroic, but God, who can see all sides of the question, will judge differently."
"The soldiers don't feel so, Uncle Robert. It seems to me that the men who volunteer do deserve a good deal of credit."
"A great many of them do; but still numbers go for the novelty, or, as you say, the fun. They like a rambling, restless life, and care little for danger, little for death; but is it an intelligent courage,—the highest and noblest kind? Does not the man who says, 'If my country in her sorest strait needs me, I will go and do my duty to the utmost,' deserve some credit, especially if he gives up what most men hold most dear?"
"I believe I didn't look at it in that light altogether. It seemed to me that it was only the cowards and the selfish men who waited to be drafted."
"Then you think I ought to volunteer?" said Uncle Robert, with a dry but good-natured smile.