"I'm not!" said Dick, with a laugh. "It's too hard work, and I don't care about being shot. I like plenty to eat, and a good bed to sleep in. Soldiers' fare would never suit me!"
"I'm on your side, George," said the tallest boy of the group, as he watched the men marching by. "A man can make a name for himself when there's fighting going on. If we are only lucky enough to have another war, I'm not going to spend my life at a high desk, or digging potatoes on a farm. A soldier's life is the life for me."
"I don't feel just that way about it, Ned," said George doubtfully. "I hope I'm not thinking about my own glory. I should be glad to go as a common soldier, if I could feel that I was doing all that I could for my country."
The fourth, boy was silent. With his hands in his. pockets, he had his eyes fixed on the lines of glistening bayonets.
"What do you think, Jack?" said Ned. "You look as wise as an owl."
Jack turned slowly on his heel. He settled his firm chin a little deeper in his coat collar.
"I don't agree with any of you, wholly," he said. "George has the best of it so far, but I think fighting is a poor way of deciding whether a thing is right or wrong."
"You'd make a noble hero," said Ned, with a good-natured laugh.
"I'd rather make my life count for something in doing work that is worth doing, than in fighting with men who never did me any harm," said Jack calmly.
"A man can't do more than give his life for his country," persisted
George.