"Did you, Grandpa?" the boy asked.
"Did I what?"
"Did you all feel gay when the army got home?"
"It didn't get home all at once, precisely," the grandfather explained.
"When the war was over I suppose we felt relieved, more than anything
else."
"You didn't feel so gay when the war _was_, though, I guess!" the boy
ventured.
"I guess we didn't."
"Were you scared, Grandpa? Were you ever scared the Rebels would win?"
"No. We weren't ever afraid of that."
"Not any at all?"
"No. Not any at all."
"Well, weren't you ever scared yourself, Grandpa? I mean when you were
in a battle."
"Oh, yes; _then_ I was." The old man laughed. "Scared plenty!"
"I don't see why," the boy said promptly. "I wouldn't be scared in a
battle."
"Wouldn't you?"
"'Course not! Grandpa, why don't you march in the Decoration Day Parade?
Wouldn't they let you?"
"I'm not able to march any more. Too short of breath and too shaky in
the legs and too blind."
"I wouldn't care," said the boy. "I'd be in the parade anyway, if I was
you.
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