But the English boy, full of the dignity of the subject to him, summoned his best eloquence to describe to the American backwoodsman that little cross of iron, Victoria’s guerdon, which entitles its possessor to write those two notable letters after his name, and which only hero-hearts may wear.
But a vision of himself, stripped of “sweater” and moccasins, in cavalry rig, becrossed and beribboned, serving under another flag than the Stars and Stripes, was too much for Herb’s gravity and for the grim regrets which wrung him to-night.
“Oh, sugar!” he gasped; and his laughter was like a rocket shooting up from his mighty throat, and exploding in a hundred sparkles of merriment.
He laughed long. He laughed insistently. His comrades were won to join in.
When the fun had subsided, Garst said:—
“Herb Heal, old man, there’s something in you to-night which reminds me of a line I’m rather stuck on.”
“Let’s have it!” cried Herb.
And Cyrus quoted:—
“As for this here earth,
It takes lots of laffin’ to keep things even!”
“Now you’ve hit it! The man that wrote that had a pile o’ sense. Come, boys, it’s been an awful full day. Let’s turn in!”