Private Christy looked at Emmeline for a moment with a smile on his lips.
"I'll explain the army to you, Emmyline," said he. "It's a wonderful thing, an army. If you begin at the top, there's the commander-in-chief, and next below him—" Private Christy went on and on in his pleasant, drawling voice. The duty of a private was this, he explained, the duty of a sutler was that. Presently Emmeline asked him what he did. Her voice was no longer sharp; it was soft and drowsy and gentle. After a long time, when Private Christy said, "I have my work, too, Emmyline," without saying what that work was, Emmeline did not hear. Feeling a light touch on his arm, Private Christy looked down and beheld Emmeline's head resting upon it.
"Well, I vum!" said he softly.
For a long time Private Christy sat still; presently slow tears rolled down his tanned cheeks. He called to one of the men:—
"Say, you, Mallon!"
The soldier approached.
"Well, I'll be switched!" he said.
"You take her upstairs, Mallon."
It may have been that Mallon, too, had a "leetle gal" at home; at any rate, he seemed to know how to lift a sleeping person of Emmeline's size.
"The pore leetle gal!" said one-armed Christy, as he led the way.