nactivity" of the Army of the Potomac. For almost eight months McClellan
had been lying idle in his encampment, holding in check that splendid
army, which, with one blow, could have crushed out the rebellion, and
allowing the rebels ample time to encircle their capital with
fortifications, before which the blood of loyal men was to be poured out
like water. The people of the North were growing impatient; and "On to
Richmond!" was the cry from every part of the land.

From the time Fort Sumter had fallen, Frank had been deeply interested in
what as going on. The insults which had been heaped upon the flag under
which his grandfather had fought and died, made the blood boil in his
veins, and he often wished that he could enlist with the brave defenders
of his country. He grew more excited each day, as the struggle went on,
and the news of a triumph or defeat would fire his spirit, and he longed
to be standing side by side with the soldiers of the Union, that he might
share in their triumphs, or assist in retrieving their disasters.

He was left almost alone now, for many of the boys of his acquaintance had
shouldered their muskets and gone off with the others; and that very day
he had met Harry Butler, who had enlisted as a private, wearing the
uniform of a lieutenant, which he had won by his bravery at Fort Donelson.

He had never said one word to his mother about enlisting, for he was an
only son, and he dreaded to ask her permission. But that mother's quick
eye easily read what was going on in her son's mind. She had Puritan blood
in her veins; her ancestors had fought in the war of the Revolution, and
she had resolved that, if Frank wished to go, she would give her full
consent. A mother's heart alone can tell the struggle it had cost her to
come to this determination.

"I've got a letter from Archie, also," said Frank.

His mother took it from his hand, and read as follows:

Portland, _March_ 18, 1862.

Dear Cousin:

I am about to tell you something which you will call strange news.
Father has at last given his consent to my going to war, provided
you will go too. He says that if I go, I must have you with me, to
take care of me, and keep me straight. I suppose he thinks I will
never go if I am obliged to wait for you, for he says your mother
will not consent to your going. You can ask her, any way. You know
you always wanted to have a hand in putting down this rebellion.