-spirit but
there was another and darker girl whom he had gazed at steadfastly and he
thought she grew demure and sad at sight of his blue and brass. As he had walked
down the path between the rows of oaks, he had turned his head and detected her
at a window watching his departure. As he perceived her, she had immediately
begun to stare up through the high tree branches at the sky. He had seen a good
deal of flurry and haste in her movement as she changed her attitude. He often
thought of it.
    On the way to Washington, his spirit had soared. The regiment was fed and
caressed at station after station until the youth had believed that he must be a
hero. There was a lavish expenditure of bread and cold meats, coffee, and
pickles and cheese. As he basked in the smiles of the girls and was patted and
complimented by the old men, he had felt growing within him the strength to do
mighty deeds of arms.
    After complicated journeyings with many pauses, there had come months of
monotonous life in a camp. He had had the belief that real war was a series of
death-struggles with small time in between for sleep and meals but since his
regiment had come to the field, the army had done little but sit still and try
to keep warm.
    He was brought then gradually back to his old ideas. Greek-like struggles
would be no more. Men were better, or more timid. Secular and religious
education had effaced the throat-grappling instinct or else firm finance held in
check the passions.
    He had grown to regard himself merely as a part of a vast blue
demonstration. His province was to look out, as far as he could, for his
personal comfort. For recreation, he could twiddle his thumbs and speculate on
the thoughts which must agitate the minds of the generals. Also, he was drilled
and drilled and reviewed, and drilled and drilled and reviewed.
    The only foes he had seen were some pickets along the river bank. They were
a sun-tanned, philosophical lot who sometimes shot reflectively at the blue
pickets. When reproached for this, afterwards, they usually expressed sorrow and
swore by their gods that the guns had exploded without their permission. The
youth on guard duty one night, conversed across the stream with one of them. He
was a slightly ragged man who spat skilfully between his shoes and possessed a
great fund of bland and infantile assurance. The youth liked him personally.
    »Yank,« the other had informed him, »yer a right dum good feller.«
