That last-mentioned sight brought the tears to Gracie's blue eyes, and she asked in tremulous tones, "Are they really hurt or killed, Papa?"
"No, darling," he said, pressing the small hand she had put into his, "it is all pretence, just to teach them what to do in case of actual war."
"Oh, I hope that won't ever come!" she exclaimed, furtively wiping away a tear. "Do you think it will, Papa?"
"Hardly," he said; "but it would be the height of folly not to prepare for such a contingency."
"Hurrah!" cried Max, throwing up his cap, "our side's whipped and the other fellows are retreating!"
"Which do you call our side? And do you mean it is whipped, or has whipped?" asked Rosie, with a laughing glance at the boy's excited face.
But the Captain was speaking again, and Max was too busy listening to him to bestow any notice upon Rosie's questions.
"Yes," the Captain said, "the marines are retreating; the battle is about over. Our side, as Max calls it, you see, is throwing out advance-guards, rear-guards, and flankers."
"What for, brother Levis?" asked Walter.