"I will give you three guesses, Abner," said Harry, laughing.
"He was trying to persuade you to enlist in the Home Guards."
"That was just it," replied Harry.
"Don't do it, Harry, or you will repent it. I tell you the name Home Guard is only a cover, and every one who enlists will be in the Confederate army in three months. Unless you mean to take up arms against your country, keep clear of the Home Guard."
"I don't want to fight in Lincoln's army, nor do I want to enter the confederate ranks, so I thought the Home Guards would be the place for me."
"Don't you enlist," said Abner Tompkins, "or you will repent it."
As Harry walked away, Mr. Diggs came along, his short legs, in rapid motion, resembling the thick spokes of a wheelbarrow, and his head inclined backward at an angle of forty-five degrees, and his glasses, as usual, on his nose, and his little fat hands thrust deep into his pockets.
"Hold on, Diggs!" said Abner. "I want to speak to you."
"Hem, hem, hem!" began Mr. Diggs. "Good morning, Mr. Tompkins. Well—hem—I am—that is, I am—hem—glad to see you. I was just going to have my man drive me out to your house. Have a little important business with—that is with one member of your family, he—he he!"
"Diggs, I hear that you have enlisted in the Confederate army; is it so?" asked Abner, abruptly.