"These grapes are the thing," said Harris, from another tree. "I'm going to eat all I can; then I'm going to get my pockets full of nuts and carry back to camp."
Frank busied himself in his own way, however, and returned to camp with his arms loaded with evergreens.
"What in time are you about?" said Winch, as Frank set himself industriously to work with twigs and strings. "Oh, I know; wreaths! Boys, le's make some wreaths. Give me some of your holly, won't you, Frank?"
"Yes," said Frank, "take all you want to use. I shall be very glad to have you help me."
"Will you show me how?"
"Yes," said Frank; "sit down here. Bend your twigs and tie them together, in the first place, for a frame. Then bind the holly on it, this way."
"O, ain't it fun?" said Winch, with his usual enthusiasm over a new thing. "When we get these evergreens used up, we'll get some more, and make wreaths for all the tents." He worked for about ten minutes; then began to yawn. "Where's my pipe? I'm going to have a smoke. How can you have patience with that nonsense, Frank? What's the use of a wreath, anyhow, after it's made? Girl's play, I call it."
And off went Winch, having used up a ball of Frank's strings to no purpose, and leaving his wreath half finished.
But Frank, never easily discouraged, kept cheerfully at work, leaving his task only when duty called him.
Thursday came,—Thanksgiving. A holiday in camp. The regiment had made ample preparations to celebrate it. Instead of pork and salt junk, the men were allowed turkeys; and in place of boiled hominy and molasses, they had plum pudding. And they feasted, and told gay stories, and sang brave songs, and thought of home, where parents, wives, sisters, and friends were, they fondly believed, eating turkey and plum pudding at the same time, and thinking of them. There was no drill that day; and no practise with any drumsticks but those of the devoted turkeys.