“It is a clean wound,” said the doctor, “and you are an uncommonly healthy boy.”
“Boy!” I said, “I am a man, and I feel fit to go now.”
But that surgeon was of another opinion. “A friend of yours,” said he, “a lieutenant, and another officer from the chaplain, have been inquiring for you.”
“Why didn’t you let Lieutenant Nickerson in here with the dog?” I asked—for I knew Muddy would stick with Jot—“I want to see them.”
Next day Muddy was actually admitted with Jot, and both of them made a lot of fuss over me.
“All of our men say that it was the bravest thing they ever saw,” praised Jot.
“Nonsense!” I said, “to tell the truth, Jot, I was so busy thinking how to get the chaplain back that I absolutely forgot to be scared.”
Jot laughed and said, “Colonel Burbank sends his compliments, and regrets for your wound, and says ‘like father like son.’”
And that to me was the best praise of all.