“Yes, Cap’n Somers,” said Hapgood; “Tom was made a sergeant for gallant conduct on the river in December; and he deserved his promotion too.”
“I’m glad to see you with that uniform on your back, Tom; and glad to hear that you have behaved well.”
“I was in the battle of Bull Run, father, and was taken prisoner, but I got away.”
“Well, Tom, we’ll hear about that bimeby,” said the old man, stopping and looking nervously into the face of his son. “I want to ask a great many questions, Tom, but I hardly dare to do it. You know I haven’t heard a word from home since I left, and it’s almost a year now.”
“You needn’t be afraid, father; the folks are all well. I have got a heap of letters at the camp, and you shall read them all as soon as we get there.”
“Is your mother well, Tom?”
“First rate.”
“And John?”
“Yes, sir; but he’s gone into the navy. He was bound to be in the fight any how.”
“John’s a chip of the old block. He wanted to snuff the salt water afore he was a week old. John’s a good sailor, and he ought to have a good lay wherever he goes,” added the father.