ut on some Pond's
extract, and some court-plaster, and I guess they'll be all right."

The colonel was still looking at Pen's wounds, and smiling as he
looked.

"The nature of the injuries," he said, "indicates that the fighting
must have been somewhat strenuous. But honorable scars, won on the
field of battle, are something in which any man may take pardonable--"

"Father Richard Butler!" exclaimed Aunt Millicent. "Aren't you ashamed
of yourself! Pen, let this be the last snowball fight you indulge in
while you live in this house. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Aunt Millicent. There won't be any more; not any more at all."

"I should hope not," she replied; "with such a looking face as you've
got."

Colonel Butler was temporarily subdued. Only the merry twinkle in his
eyes, and the smile that hovered about the corners of his mouth, still
attested the satisfaction he was feeling in his grandson's military
prowess. He could not, however, restrain his curiosity until the end
of the meal, and, at the risk of evoking another rebuke from his
daughter, he inquired of Pen:

"A--Penfield, may I ask in which direction the tide of battle finally
turned?"

"I believe we licked 'em, grandfather," replied Pen. "We drove 'em
into the school-house anyway."

"Not, I presume, before some severe preliminary fighting had taken
place?"

"There you go again, father!" exclaimed Aunt Millicent. "It's nothing
but 'fighting, fighting,' from morning to night. What kind of a man do
you think Pen will grow up to be, with such training as this?"

"A very useful, brave and patriotic citizen, I hope, my dear."

"Fiddlesticks!" It was Aunt Millicent's favorite ejaculation. But the
colonel did not refer to the battle again at the table. It was not
until after he had retired to the library, and had taken up his
favorite position, his back to the fire, his eyes resting on the
silken banner in the hall, that he plied Pen with further questions.
His daughter not being in the room he felt that he might safely resume
the subject of the fight.

"I would like a full report of the battle, Penfield," he said. "It
appears to me that it is likely to go down as a most important event
in the history of the school."

Pen shook his head deprecatingly, but he did not at once reply.
Impatient at the delay, which he ascribed to the modesty
characteristic of the brave and successful soldier, the colonel began
to make more definite inquiry.

"In what manner w