His wound was soon healed, and he hastened to return to his regiment; for he was eager to be learning everything belonging to the profession of a soldier. It was not long, however, before he came north again--this time on surprising business. Captain Edney, who had won the rank of Colonel at the battle of Newbern, had been sent home to raise a regiment; and he had been permitted to choose from his own company such persons as he thought best fitted to assist him, and hold commissions under him. He chose Gray, Seth Tucket, and Frank. Another of our friends afterwards joined the regiment, with the rank of First Lieutenant; having quite recovered from his wound, under the tender nursing of his wife. With his friends Edney, Gray, Tucket, and Atwater, Frank was as happy as ever a young officer in a new service could be. He began as second lieutenant; but---- But here our story must end; for to relate how he has fought his way up, step by step, to a rank which was never more fairly earned, would require a separate volume,--materials for which we may possibly find some day in his own letters to his mother, and in those of Colonel Edney to his sister Helen. * * * * Some extracts from a letter just received from the hero of these pages may perhaps interest the reader. "I cannot tell you, sir, how much astonished I was on opening the package you sent me. I don't think the mysterious bundle that contained the watch dear old 'Mr. St. John' gave me surprised me half as much. I had never seen any _proof-sheets_ before, and hardly knew what to make of them at first. Then you should have heard me scream at Gray and Atwater. 'Boys,' says I, 'here's a story founded on our adventures!' I sat up all that night reading it, and I must confess I had to blush a good many times before I got through. I see you have not called any of us by our real names; but I soon found out who 'Abe,' and 'Seth,' and 'Jack Winch,' and all the other characters are meant for. I have read ever so many pages to 'Seth' himself, and he has laughed as heartily as any of us over his own oddities. We all wonder how you could have written the story, giving all the circumstances, and even the conversations that took place, so correctly; but I remember, when I was at your house, you kept me talking, and wrote down nearly every thing I said; besides which, I find there was a good deal more in my journal and letters than I supposed, when I consented to let you have them and make what use of them you pleased. Little did I think then, that ever such a book as the 'Drummer Boy' could be made out of them.