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"Jim," said the younger, "I don't believe all the conscripts we've caught these three days are worth the powder they've cost!"

Lit with foolish hope to hear thy fondling sighs, Like yon twilight dove's, breathe, Return, return!

My whole nature was upheaved. You may smile, but my plight was awful. In the sultry night I grew cold. My bridle-hand, still lying under her palm, turned and folded its big stupid fingers over hers. Then our hands slid apart and we rode back. "I wish I were good enough to know the stars," she said, gazing up. "Tell me some of them."

"Oh!--don't you wish you knew! Why, to myself, for instance. Come! duty calls."

"She ain't awa-ay."

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