It must be acknowledged that Tom's piety was of the robust type. He would not allow any man to insult him; and after the chastisement he had given Ben Lethbridge, not even those who were strong enough to whip him were disposed to trespass upon his rights and dignity. Perhaps Tom's creed needed a little revising; but he lived under martial law, which does not take cognizance of insults and revilings. He was willing to be smitten on the one cheek, and on the other also, for the good of his country, or even his friends, but not to be wantonly insulted. The influence of Tom's principles was not confined to himself, for "a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump." This was particularly true of Hapgood, who, more through Tom's preaching and practice than from any strength in his own character, had steadily maintained his purpose to abstain from intoxicating drinks, though occasional opportunities were presented for the indulgence of his darling vice. Tom and he read the Testament and other good books which were sent to the regiment, and both profited by them. When the soldier boy was discharged from the hospital, the surgeon gave him a pair of woolen socks, from a case of them which had been sent by the friends of the soldier in Boston and its vicinity. He was very much in need of them, and from the depths of his heart he blessed the ladies who had done this good work. He unrolled the socks, and proceeded to pull one of them on. It was as good a fit as though his mother had knit it on purpose for him. "God bless the lady that knit these socks!" exclaimed Tom, as he began to draw on the other. "Amen!" replied Hapgood, who was watching the operation in full sympathy with his protege. "Eh! what's this?" added Tom, for his foot had met with an obstruction in its passage down the leg. He pulled off the sock, and thrusting his hand into it, took therefrom a letter enclosed in an envelope. "See that, uncle?" said he, exhibiting the prize. "What is it, Tom? Open it quick," replied Hapgood. The soldier boy broke the envelope, and took from it a note enclosing a photograph. Tom looked at the picture with a feeling of pleasure, which would have caused the original of the miniature, the author of the note, and the author of the socks, to blush up to her eyes if she had beheld the expression of admiration which glowed upon the handsome, manly face of the young sergeant. "By all that's lovely, isn't she a beauty!" exclaimed Tom, rapturously, as he glanced from the picture to Hapgood, who was looking over his shoulder. "She's hahnsome, and no mistake," replied the veteran, with a grim smile. "Well, she is!" added Tom, whose eyes were riveted to the photograph. "Well, why don't you read the letter, Tom?" demanded the old soldier, after the young man had gazed with blushing cheek upon the sweet face of the author of his socks for full five minutes.