"I'd shoot great big rebel with my gun," said Charlie, waxing valiant.
"Your gun's only a wooden one," said Maggie, with an air of superior knowledge. "You couldn't kill a rebel with that."
"I'd kill 'em some," persisted Charlie earnestly, evidently believing that a wooden gun differed from others not in kind, but in degree.
"But suppose the rebels should fire at you," said Frank, amused. "What would you do then, Charlie?"
Charlie looked into the fire thoughtfully for a moment, as if this contingency had not presented itself to his mind until now. Suddenly his face brightened up, and he answered. "I'd run away just as fast as I could."
All laughed at this, and Frank said: "But that wouldn't be acting like a brave soldier, Charlie. You ought to stay and make the enemy run."
"I wouldn't want to stay and be shooted," said Charlie ingenuously.
"There are many older than Charlie," said Mr. Frost, smiling, "who would doubtless sympathize entirely with him in his objection to being shooted, though they might not be quite so ready to make confession as he has shown himself. I suppose you have heard the couplet: