The Drummer Boy | Page 7

sign of the "Arab's Home;" etc.
"My traps are in the 'Young Volunteer,'" said Jack. "We give it that name, because we are all of us young fellows in there. You can tie up here too,"--entering the tent,--"if you want to."
Frank gladly accepted the proposition. "How odd it must seem," he said, "to live and sleep under canvas!"
"You'll like it tip-top, when you get used to it," remarked Jack, with an air of old experience.
Frank made haste to take off his civil suit and put on his soldier clothes. Jack pronounced the uniform a splendid fit, and declared that his friend looked "stunning."
"But you must have your hair cut, Frank. Look here; this is the fighting trim!" and Jack Winch, pulling off his cap, made Frank laugh till the tears came into his eyes, at the ludicrous sight. Jack's hair had been clipped so close to his head that it was no longer than mouse's hair, giving him a peculiarly grim and antique appearance.
"You look like Sinbad's Old Man of the Sea!" exclaimed Frank. "I won't have my hair cut that way!"--feeling of his own soft brown curls, which his mother was so fond of, and which he meant to preserve, if only for her sake.
"Pshaw! you look like a girl! Come, Frank, there's a fellow in the 'Owl House' that cuts all the hair for our company."
But here an end was put to the discussion by some of the boys without crying, "Dinner!"
"Dinner!" repeated Jack. "Hurrah! let's go and draw our rations."
Three or four young volunteers now came into the tent, and, opening their haversacks, drew forth their tin plates, knives and forks. Frank did the same, and observing that they all took their tin cups, he took his also, and followed them, with quite as much curiosity as appetite, to the cook-shop, where a large piece of bread and a thick slice of boiled beef was dealt out to each, together with a cup of coffee.
"How droll it seems to eat rations!" said Frank, on their return, seating himself on his bed,--a tick filled with straw,--and using his lap for a table.
The bread was sweet; but the beef was of not quite so fine a quality as Frank had been used to at home and the coffee was not exactly like his mother's.
"Here, have some milk," said Jack. "I've an account open with this woman"--a wrinkled old creature, who came into the tent with a little girl, bearing baskets of cakes and fruits, and a can of milk.
"No, I thank you," said Frank. "I may as well begin with the fare I shall have to get used to some time, for I mean to send all my pay home to my folks except what I'm actually obliged to use myself."
"You'll be a goose if you do!" retorted Jack. "I shan't send home any of mine. I'm my own man now, ye see, and what I earn of Uncle Sam I'm going to have a gallus old time with, you may bet your life on that!"
Frank drew a long breath, for he felt that the time had now come to have the talk with his friend which Mr. Winch had requested.
"I saw your father, this morning, Jack."
"Did ye though? What did the old sinner have to say?"
"I don't like to hear you call your father such names," said Frank, seriously. "And if you had seen how bad he felt, when he spoke of your enlisting----"
"Pshaw, now, Frank! don't be green! don't get into a pious strain, I beg of ye! You'll be the laughing-stock of all the boys, if ye do."
Frank blushed to the eyes, not knowing what reply to make. He had felt no little pride in Mr. Winch's responsible charge to him, and had intended to preach to his more reckless companion a good, sound, moral discourse on this occasion. But to have his overtures received in this manner was discouraging.
"Come," continued Jack, taking something from the straw, "we are soldiers now, and must do as soldiers do. Have a drink, Frank?"--presenting a small bottle.
"What is it?" Frank asked, and when told, "Brandy," he quickly withdrew the hand he had extended. "No, I thank you, Jack, I am not going to drink any thing of that sort, unless I need it as a medicine. And I am sorry to see you getting into such habits so soon."
"Habits? what habits?" retorted Jack, blushing in his turn. "A little liquor don't hurt a fellow. I take it only as a medicine. You mustn't go to being squeamish down here, I tell you." And Jack drank a swallow or two, smacking his lips afterwards, as he returned the cork to the bottle.
By this time Frank's courage was up--his moral courage, I mean, which is more rare, as it is far more