"How the devil do you keep it up?"
Bobby made no answer, but had Revere looked into the breast-pocket
of his coat he might have seen there a sheaf of badly-written
letters which perhaps accounted for the power that possessed the
boy. A letter came to Bobby every other day. The spelling was not
above reproach, but the sentiments must have been most
satisfactory, for on receipt Bobby's eyes softened marvellously,
and he was wont to fall into a tender abstraction for a while ere,
shaking his cropped head, he charged into his work.
By what power he drew after him the hearts of the roughest, and
the Tail Twisters counted in their ranks some rough diamonds
indeed, was a mystery to both skipper and C. 0., who learned from
the regimental chaplain that Bobby was considerably more in
request in the hospital tents than the Reverend John Emery.
"The men seem fond of you. Are you in the hospitals much?" said
the Colonel, who did his daily round and ordered the men to get
well with a hardness that did not cover his bitter grief.
"A little, sir," said Bobby.
"Shouldn't go there too often if I were you. They say it's not
contagious, but there's no use in running unnecessary risks. We
can't afford to have you down, y' know.
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