,
and did not know the objects of the war. I did not feel I wanted to go."

He had given up his work on the farm and was making more money than he
had ever made before. The shortcut of the Dixie Highway--that part that
runs from Louisville to Chattanooga--had been surveyed and was being
graded through Fentress county. It runs through the "Valley of the Three
Forks o' the Wolf," He was "driving steel on the pike," for his days in
the blacksmith shop had taught him to wield a sledgehammer and many
rocks were to be blasted to make a roadway. For this he was receiving
$1.65 a day, for ten hours' work, while on the farm he had not been able
to earn more than $25 a month, working from "can't see to can't see."

When he joined the church he had given himself to it unreservedly. They
were holding many meetings and the church was growing. He had become the
Second Elder. At the time, too, he was planning for the day when he
could marry.

In June following the country's entry into the war Alvin registered for
the draft and in October at Jamestown took his examination.

"They looked at me, they weighed me," he told on his return, "and I
weighed 170 pounds and was 72 inches tall. So they said I passed all
right!"

He was with Pastor Pile, and he turned to him:

"This means good-bye for me. But I'll go."

After his registration his mother had never ceased to worry over his
going to a war so far away from her.

The situation troubled him. At times he would see his mother looking
steadily at him, and there was always a sadness in her face. He knew
that she needed him, for the next oldest of the brothers of those who
were at home was only seventeen. But his country had asked him to stand
by and would call him if it needed him.

The struggle within him lasted for weeks. Then he asked that they seek
no exemption for him.

In his presence his mother never again referred to his going, but he
would see her troubled face watching him.

But she talked with the influential men in the valley hoping there would
be some suggestion that would honorably relieve Alvin from the duty of
going. Pastor Pile had gone ahead to see what he could do, and he
learned that those who were "conscientious objectors" would not have to
go. The tenets of his church, he held, were against all wars. Alvin was
an elder; he had subscribed to and was living the principles of his
religion. He hurried home to Mrs. York.

But the soldier, himself, had to make