He paused, and presently his young voice broke the stillness:—
"Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless His holy name"—going on to the end of the beautiful psalm of adoration and faith which nineteen centuries have decreed to be in very truth a Psalm of Life.
I felt great responsibility in keeping with me my sons, now ten and twelve years old. At a farmhouse about fifteen miles in the country a member of the family was living, and availing myself of a passing wagon, I sent the boys to share his plenty and comfort. A few days afterwards they returned—a dusty, footsore pair of urchins. They had run away and come home! Moreover, they had found an old horse left on the roadside to die,—which Roger refused to leave,—had shared their luncheon with him, given him water, assisted him to his feet, and by slow stages led him home!
"Oh! how shall we feed him?" I exclaimed, in despair.
"I'll help," said Captain Lindsay; "he shall be immediately introduced to my mare, and she shall share her oats with him;" and a very sober-minded, steady horse he proved to be, quite good enough to be stolen, as he finally was, by the enemy.
My friend, General Wilcox, put my own friendship to a severe test one morning. Standing by the mantel in his accustomed attitude, he informed me that he had received many kind attentions from the ladies of Petersburg (I was aware of an affair of the heart in which a pretty widow was concerned), and he proposed to give a déjeuner à la fourchette, and invite them out to his tent. Would I chaperon the occasion, and might my parlor be used as a reception room?
"Of course, General!" I replied. "They will be welcome to me, and to the parlor. The 'fourchette' will be forthcoming without fail, but where, oh, where can we find the 'déjeuner'?"
"I have thought of all that," said the General. "I will send half a dozen fellows out with guns to bring in birds. I'll get John to make some cakes and biscuits, we'll brew a bowl of punch. Voilà! What more do you want?"
"That will be fine," I assured him, and accordingly his invitations were sent, handsomely written, to about thirty people. A load of evergreens was delivered at the tent, and all hands set to work to weave garlands. Every candle in camp was "pressed." John made a fine success of his sponge cakes, and also fruit and nut cake—the fruit, disguised dried apples, the nuts, walnuts.
The day before the event the General leaned, a dejected figure, against the mantel.