——'some pulse of good must live
Within a human nature.'
And there were children with wet eyes, for the rare old man who had always a smile for their joys, and a tear for their troubles; and one, I remember, as her mother lifted her up for the last look, whispered, 'Oh, he is too good a man to bury up in the ground!'
And there, in the midst of this sad company, and with a face quite as sad as his neighbors', stood Lyman Barton. A little urchin, a particular friend of the old colonel's, and of mine too, who stood beside me, pulled my ear down to his lips, and turning his flashing eye upon Barton, whispered,
'Ought not he to be ashamed of himself?'
'Why, Hal, why?'
'He is making believe cry, just like a crocodile! Every body says he has written to old Jackson already to be made post-master. I wish he was in the colonel's place.'
'You could not wish him in a better, my dear.'
'Oh, I did not mean that! I did not mean that!'
He would have proceeded; but I shook my head, and put an end to the explanation he was eager to make.