“It’s just like me,” Rose said, as she resumed her seat by Annie, listening intently while she told how kind the Widow Simms had been, coming every day to stay with her, and only leaving her at night because Annie insisted that she should. “I like Mrs. Simms!” was Rose’s vehement exclamation, “and I am glad Tom said what he did about Isaac, who used to saw our wood. I did not tell you, did I? And there’s something real nice about your husband, too. I mean to call her in while I read it,” and Rose ran out to the wood-shed, where the widow was now splitting a pine board for kindling, the newspaper she at first had used, having burned entirely out. Rose’s manner and voice were very conciliatory as she said: “Please, Mrs. Simms, come in and listen while I read what brother Tom has written about Mr. Graham and your Isaac,—something perfectly splendid. Tom has volunteered and gone to Washington, you know.” It was strange how those few words changed the widow’s opinion of Rose. The fact that Thomas Carleton, whom the Rockland people fancied was a Secessionist, had joined the Federal army, did much toward effecting this change, but not so much as the fact that he had actually noticed her boy, and spoken of him in a letter. “Miss Mather ain’t so bad after all,” she thought, and striking her axe into the log, she followed Rose to the sitting-room, listening eagerly while she read the few sentences pertaining to George and Isaac. They were as follows: “By the way, Will, I find there’s a company here from Rockland. Fine appearing fellows, too, most of them are, and under good discipline. I am especially pleased with the second lieutenant. He’s a magnificent looking man, and attracts attention wherever he goes.” “That’s George, you know,” and Rose, quite as much pleased as Annie herself, nodded toward the latter, whose pale cheek flushed with pride at hearing her husband thus spoken of by Rose Mather’s brother. “Yes, but Isaac,” interrupted the widow. “Whereabouts does he come in?” “Oh, pretty soon I’ll get to him. There’s more about George yet,” answered Rose, as she resumed her reading. “I had the pleasure of talking with him yesterday, and found him very intelligent and sensible. If we had more men like him, success would be sure and speedy. He has about him a great deal of fun and humor, which go far toward keeping up the spirits of his company, and some of the poor fellows need it sadly. There’s a young boy in the ranks, Isaac Simms, who interests me greatly.” “Oh-h!” and the widow drew a long sigh as Rose continued: