Jack pushed his chair over by a window, and looked out towards the court house. It was late in the afternoon, and the massive building threw long shadows across the green sward surrounding it.
"I wanted to see if the flag is flying," said Jack. "I can't tell from my window. Don't you love to watch it flap? I do, for it always makes me think of heroes. I love heroes, and I love to listen to stories about 'em. Don't you? It makes you feel so creepy, and your hair kind o' stands up, and you hold your breath while they're a-risking their lives to save somebody, or doing something else that's awfully brave. And then, when they've done it, there's a lump in your throat; but you feel so warm all over somehow, and you want to cheer, and march right off to 'storm the heights,' and wipe every thing mean off the face of the earth, and do all sorts of big, brave things. I always do. Don't you?"
"Yes," answered David, amused by his boyish enthusiasm, yet touched by the recognition of a kindred spirit. "May be you will be a hero yourself, some day," he suggested in order to lead the boy further on.
"No, I'm afraid not," answered Jack, sadly. "Papa wanted me to be a lawyer. He was in the war till he got wounded so bad he had to come home. We've got his sword and cap yet. I used to put 'em on sometimes, and say I was going to go to West Point and learn to be a soldier. But he always shook his head and said, 'No, son, that's not the highest way you can serve your country now.' Then sometimes I think I'll have to be a preacher like my grandfather, John Wesley Bradford, because he left me all his library, and I am named for him. Jack isn't my real name, you know."
"Would you like to be a preacher?" asked David, as the boy paused to catch a fly that was buzzing exasperatingly around him.
"No!" answered Jack, emphasizing his answer by a savage slap at the fly. "Only except when we get to talking about the Jews. You know we are very much interested in your people at our house."
"No, I didn't know it," answered David, amused by the boy's matter-of-fact announcement. "How did you come to be so interested?"
"Well, it started with the Epworth League Conference at Chattanooga. There was a converted Jew up there on the mountain that spoke in the sunrise meeting. Cousin Frank went to see him afterwards. He took Bethany with him to write down what they said in shorthand. O, he had the most interesting history! You just ought to hear sister tell it. You know the two old ladies I told you about, that live at our house. Well, may be it isn't polite to tell you so, but they didn't have the least bit of use for the Jews before that. Now, since we've been reading about the awful way they were persecuted, and how they've hung together through thick and thin, they've changed their minds."
"And you say that it is only when you are talking about the Jews that you would like to be a preacher," said David, as the boy stopped, and began whistling softly. He wanted to bring him back to the subject.
"Yes," answered Jack. "When I think how that man's whole life was changed by a little Junior League girl; how she started him, and he'll start others, and they'll start somebody else, and the ball will keep rolling, and so much good will be done, just on her account, I'd like to do something in that line myself. I'm first vice-president of our League, you know," he said, proudly displaying the badge pinned on his coat.