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extraordinary commotion over the mere matter of getting killed. He would die; he would go to some place where he would be understood. It was useless to expect appreciation of his pro- found and fine senses from such men as the lieu- tenant. He must look to the grave for compre- hension. The skirmish fire increased to a long chatter- ing sound. With it was mingled far-away cheer- ing. A battery spoke. Directly the youth would see the skirmishers running. They were pursued by the sound of musketry fire. After a time the hot, dangerous flashes of the rifles were visible. Smoke clouds went slowly and insolently across the fields like observant phantoms. The din became crescendo, like the roar of an oncoming train. A brigade ahead of them and on the right went into action with a rending roar. It was as if it had exploded. And thereafter it lay stretched in the distance behind a long gray wall, that one was obliged to look twice at to make sure that it was smoke. The youth, forgetting his neat plan of getting killed, gazed spell bound. His eyes grew wide and busy with the action of the scene. His mouth was a little ways open. Of a sudden he felt a heavy and sad hand laid upon his shoulder. Awakening from his trance of observation he turned and beheld the loud soldier. "It's my first and last battle, old boy," said the latter, with intense gloom. He was quite pale and his girlish lip was trembling. "Eh?" murmured the youth in great aston- ishment. "It's my first and last battle, old boy," |