"That's where the fightin' finished," observed the boy, pointing to a big mark on the map. "That's Malvern Hill there, and here—down where the river takes the big bend—that's Harrison's Landing, where the army's movin' to. See them seven rings? Them are the battles, one each day, as our men forced their way down through the Chickahominy swamps, beginnin' up in the corner with Beaver Dam Creek. If the map was a little higher it 'ud show the Pamunkey, where they started from. My uncle says that the whole mistake was in ever abandoning the Pamunkey." "Pa-monkey or Ma-monkey," said Newton Shull, gloomily, "it wouldn't be no comfort to me to see it, even on a map. It's jest taken and busted me and my business here clean as a whistle. We ain't paid expenses two days in a week sence Marseny went. Here I've got now so't I kin take a plain, everyday sort o' picture jest about as well as he did—a little streakid sometimes, perhaps, and more or less pinholes—but still pretty middlin' fair on an average, and then, darn my buttons if they don't all stop comin'. It positively don't seem to me as if there was a single human bein' in Dearborn County that 'ud have his picture took as a gift. All they want now is to have enlargements thrown up from little likenesses of their men folks that have been killed, and them I don't know how to do no more'n a babe unborn." "You knew well enough how to make that stereopticon slide," remarked the boy with severity. "Yes," mused Mr. Shull, "that darned thing—that made a peck o' trouble, didn't it? I dunno what on earth possessed me; I kind o' seemed to git the notion of doin' it into my head all to once't, and somehow I never dreamt of its rilin' Marseny so; you couldn't tell that a man 'ud be so blamed touchy as all that, could you?—and I dunno, like as not he'd a' enlisted any how. But I do wish he'd showed me how to make them pesky enlargements afore he went. If I'd only seen him do one, even once, I could a' picked the thing up, but I never did. It's just my luck!" "Say," said the boy, looking up with a sudden thought, "do you know what my mother heard yesterday? It's all over the place that before Marseny left he went to Squire Schermerhorn's and made his will, and left everything he's got to the Parmalee girl, in case he gits killed. So, if anything happens she'd be your partner, wouldn't she?" Newton Shull stared with surprise. "Well, now, that beats creation," he said, after a little. "Somehow you know that never occurred to me, and yet, of course, that 'ud be jest his style." "Yes, sir," repeated the other, "they say he's left her every identical thing."