stubby hands, washed Si's face, hands and feet, and combed his hair.
The overworked hospital attendants had had no time for this much-needed
ministration. It was all that they could do to get the wounded under
some sort of shelter, to dress their wounds, and prepare food. No well
man could be spared from the trenches for hospital service, for the
sadly-diminished Army of the Cumberland needed every man who could
carry a musket to man the long lines to repel the constantly-threatened
assaults.

The removal of the soil and grime of the march and battle had a
remarkably vivifying effect upon Si. New life seemed to pulse through
his veins and brightness return to his eyes.

"Makes me feel like a new man, Pap," he said faintly. "Feels better than
anything I ever knowed. Do the same to Shorty, Pap."

"Come here, Shorty, you dirty little rascal," said the Deacon, assuming
a severely maternal tone, at which Si laughed feebly but cheerily, "and
let me wash your face and comb your hair."

Shorty demurred a little at being treated like a boy, and protested that
he could wash himself, if the Deacon would get him some warm water; but
he saw that the conceit amused Si, and submitted to having the Deacon
give him a scrubbing with a soapy rag, giving a yell from time to time,
in imitation of an urchin undergoing an unwilling ablution. Si turned
his head so as to witness the operation, and grinned throughout it.

"I think you'd both feel still better if you could have your hair cut,"
said the Deacon, as he finished and looked from one to the other. "Your
hair's too long for sick people, and it makes you look sicker'n you
really are. But I hain't got no shears."

"I know I'd feel better if I was sheared," said Shorty. "Hain't neither
of us had our hair cut since we started on the Tullyhomy campaign, and I
think I look like the Wild Man from Borneo. I think I know a feller that
has a pair o' shears that I kin borry."

The shears were found and borrowed. Then ensued a discussion as to the
style of the cut. The boys wanted their hair taken off close to their
heads, 'but the Deacon demurred to this for fear they would catch cold.

"No, Si," he said; "I'm goin' to cut your hair jest like your mother
used to. She used to tie one of her garters from your forehead down
across your ears, and cut off all the hair that stuck out. I hain't any
garter, but I guess I kin find a string that'll do jest as well."

"There," said the Deacon, as h