"How far?"
"A thousand miles, through these big woods—"
The blue eyes dimmed.
"I want to see my Mamma before I go—" his voice broke.
The man shook his head.
"No, Boy; it won't do. You're her baby—"
The dark head sank with a cry.
"I want to see her!"
"Come, come, Jeff Davis, you're going to be a soldier. Remember you're the son of a soldier who fought under General Washington and won our freedom. You're named after Thomas Jefferson, the great President. Your three brothers have just come home from New Orleans. Under Old Hickory we drove the British back into their ships and sent 'em flying home to England. The son of a soldier—the brother of soldiers—can't cry—"
"I will if I want to!"