"Reg'lar lightnin' hurler!" said he. "Soon as this 'ere war is over I'll take a bee line fer hum--you hear to me. This makes me sick o' fightin'."
"Will you give me a ride?" Margaret asked her lover. "I'll get on behind you."
Solomon took off the saddle and tightened the blanket girth.
"Thar, 'tain't over clean, but now ye kin both ride," said he.
Soon the two were riding, she in front, as they had ridden long before through the shady, mallowed bush in Tryon County.
"Oh, that we could hear the thrush's song again!"
"I can hear it sounding through the years," he answered. "As life goes on with me I hear many an echo from the days of my youth."
They rode a while in silence as the night fell.
"Again the night is beautiful!" she exclaimed.
"But now it is the beauty of the night and the stars," he answered.