Young feller," he went on, speaking to Tom, "I like the way you
acted under fire. Thar was a time when I believed that a feller with
store clothes on was easy skeered, and I laughed when I seed 'em j'inin'
the army--'lowed they would w'ar out in a day or two; but they
outmarched us fellers that follered the plow an' when the time come they
tuck their red medicine an' never whimpered. Ricolleck one little chap
that didn't look like he was strong enough to pull up a handful o' white
clover--snatched up a flag, butted his way to the front and put his
colors on the breastworks o' the inimy."
"I thank you," Tom replied. "But you don't seem to be astonished that
the preacher wasn't scared."
"Who, Jim? Oh, no. Jim's a Starbuck."
"Don't make me out any worse than I naturally am, Uncle Jasper," said
Jim, smiling in that mild consciousness of humor sometimes necessary and
always appropriate to the pulpit.
Mrs. Mayfield smiled upon him, and bade him come with her to the place
where the short shade of noon-time was napping on the hill-top.
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