File:Among the camps; or, Young people's stories of the war (1891) (14762775475).jpg

Identifier: amongcampsoryoun00pagerich (find matches)
Title: Among the camps; or, Young people's stories of the war
Year: 1891 (1890s)
Authors: Page, Thomas Nelson, 1853-1922
Subjects: United States -- History Civil War, 1861-1865 Fiction
Publisher: New York, C. Scribner's sons
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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As the Colonel ripped care-fully, the group gathered around and bent breathlessly overhim, the light from the blazing camp-fire shining ruddily ontheir eager, weather-tanned faces. When the Colonel put inhis hand and drew out a toy sword, there was a general ex-clamation, followed by a dead silence ; but when he took thedoll from her soft wrapping, and then unrolled and held upa pair of little trousers not much longer than a mans hand,and just the size for a five-year-old boy, the men turned awaytheir faces from the fire, and more than one who had boys ofhis own at home, put his hand up to his eyes. One of them, a bronzed and weather-beaten officer, whohad charged the Colonel with being a miser, stretched him-self out on the orround, flat on his face, and sobbed aloud asColonel Stafford gently told his story of Charlie and Evelyn.Even the grim face of Colonel Denby looked somewhatchantred in the lieht of the fire, and he reached over for thedoll and gazed at it steadily for some time.
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IV. DURING the whole year the children had been lookingforward to the coming of Christmas. Charlies out-bursts of petulance and not rare fits of anger wereinvariably checked if any mention was made of his fathersinjunction, and at length he became accustomed to curb him-self by the recollection of the charge he had received. If hefell and hurt himself in his constant attempt to climb up im-possible places, he would simply rub himself and say, proudly, I dont cry now, I am a knight, and next Christmas I amgoing to be a man, cause my papas goin to tell Santa Clausto bring me a pair of breeches and a sword. Evelyn couldnot help crying when she was hurt, for she was only a littlegirl; but she added to her prayer of God bless and keep mypapa, and bring him safe home, the petition, Please, God,bless and keep Santa Tlaus, and let him come here Trismas. Old Bob and Ran too, as well as the younger ones,looked forward eagerly to Christmas. But some time before Christmas the steady advance ofthe

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