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 more prominent members of the bar. But the man shook his head and responded:

"Why, haven't you heard? He's gone to war—enlisted in the First Infantry!"

I hid my surprise from the man, and told him I had heard that, of course, but that the bar regarded his absence as merely temporary.

That summer I got into the habit of scanning the lists of sick and disabled soldiers who were at Chickamauga and the other fever camps, or in Cuba. I was especially likely to do this where the First Regiment was concerned. It was a practice foolish in a way, because it took up time in the morning, and was only a meaningless list of names, anyway. But then, we were rather proud of the First in the city that summer, for it was our crack regiment, you know, and my wife had one or two acquaintances among the young officers, who reflected a certain glory upon her, and gave a color to her conversation.

A friend of mine at the capital, a lawyer, often sent me, two or three times a week, perhaps, copies of the local papers, and these frequently published little bits of personal gossip about boys from that town who had gone to "the front," as they put it.