Cal'late
I'll have to thin it a little."
Captain Sam condemned the paint to an eternal blister.
"Go on! go on!" he commanded. "What about you and Leander? Finish
her out. Can't you see you've got my head whirlin' like one of
those windmills of yours? Finish her OUT!"
Jed looked over his spectacles.
"Oh!" he said. "Well, Leander's been comin' in here pretty
frequent and we've talked about his affairs a good deal. He's
always wanted to enlist ever since the war broke out."
"He HAS?"
"Why, sartin. Just the same as you would, or--or I hope I would,
if I was young and--and," with a wistful smile, "different, and
likely to be any good to Uncle Sam. Yes, Leander's been anxious to
go to war, but his dad was so set against it all and kept hollerin'
so about the boy's bein' needed in the store, that Leander didn't
hardly know what to do. But then when he was drawn on the draft
list he came in here and he and I had a long talk. 'Twas
yesterday, after you'd told me about bein' put on the Board, you
know. I could see the trouble there'd be between you and Phineas
and--and--well, you see, Sam, I just kind of wanted that boy to
volunteer. I--I don't know why, but--" He looked up from his work
and stared dreamily out of the window. "I guess maybe 'twas
because I've been wishin' so that I could go myself--or--do
SOMETHIN' that was some good.
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