"Great news for Gettysburg," he called. "The state militia's coming to camp in July."
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Grandfather Myers.
"Yes, they'll be here a week."
"How many'll there be?"
"About ten thousand."
Grandfather started away in such excitement that the postman had to call him back to receive the newspaper. The old man took it and hobbled up the yard, his trembling hands scarcely able to unfold it. He paused twice to read a paragraph, and when he reached the porch he sat down on the upper step, the paper quivering in his hands.
"Henrietta!" he called.
His son's wife appeared in the doorway, a large, strong, young woman with snapping eyes. She was drying a platter and her arms moved vigorously.
"What is it, grandfather?" she asked impatiently.
The old man was so excited he could scarcely answer.