lstaff's ragged regiment?"

"Nay; I did not say that, Traverse. Many a private in the ranks has
risen to be a general officer," replied Herbert, encouragingly.

Traverse laughed good humoredly, saying:

"It does not look much like that in my case. This dress," he said,
looking down at his coarse, ill-fitting uniform, cowhide shoes, etc.;
"this dress, this drilling, these close quarters, coarse food and mixed
company are enough to take the military ardor out of any one!"

"Traverse, you talk like a petit maitre, which is not at all your
character. Effeminacy is not your vice."

"Nor any other species of weakness, do you mean? Ah, Herbert, your
aspiring hopeful, confident old friend is considerably taken down in
his ideas of himself, his success and life in general! I went to the
West with high hopes. Six months of struggling against indifference,
neglect and accumulated debts lowered them down! I carried out letters
and made friends, but their friendship began and ended in wishing me
well. While trying to get into profitable practice I got into debt.
Meanwhile I could not hear from my betrothed in all those months. An
occasional letter from her might have prevented this step. But troubles
gathered around me, debts increased and--"

"--Creditors were cruel. It is the old story; my poor boy!"

"No; my only creditors were my landlady and my laundress, two poor
widows who never willingly distressed me, but who occasionally asked
for 'that little amount' so piteously that my heart bled to lack it to
give them. And as victuals and clean shirts were absolute necessaries
of life, every week my debts increased. I could have faced a prosperous
male creditor, and might, perhaps, have been provoked to bully such an
one, had he been inclined to be cruel; but I could not face poor women
who, after all, I believe, are generally the best friends a struggling
young man can have; and so, not to bore a smart young lieutenant with a
poor private's antecedents--"

"Oh, Traverse--"

"--I will even make an end of my story. 'At last there came a weary day
when hope and faith beneath the weight gave way.' And, hearing that a
company of volunteers was being raised to go to Mexico, I enlisted,
sold my citizen's wardrobe and my little medical library, paid my
debts, made my two friends, the poor widows, some acceptable presents,
sent the small remnant of the money to my mother, telling her that I
was going farther south to try my fortune,