Next day down comes the oldest of the boys. The blacksmith's business “wasn't very drivina, and he guessed John could take care of it.” “Well,” said the old man, “Go it.” And the oldest son went it. But the following day John made his appearance. He felt lonesome, and had shut up the shop. The father remonstrated, but the boy would enlist, and enlist he did. Now the old gentleman had two more sons who “worked the farm” near Flushing, Long Island. The military fever seems to have run in the family, for no sooner had the father and two older brothers enlisted, than the younger sons came in for a like purpose. The pater-familias was a man of few words, but he said that he “wouldn't stand this anyhow.” The blacksmith business might go to — some other place, but the farm must be looked after. So the boys were sent home. Presently one of them reappeared. They had concluded that one could manage the farm, and had tossed up who should go with the Fourteenth, and he had won the chance.
This arrangement was finally agreed to. But on the day of departure the last boy of the family was on hand to join and on foot for marching. The old man was somewhat puzzled to know what arrangement could have been made which would allow all of the family to go, but the explanation of the boy solved the difficulty: “Father,” said he, with a confidential chuckle in the old man's ear, “I've let the farm on shares!” The whole family, father and fourth sons, went with the Fourteenth Regiment.--N. Y. Evening Post, May 16.
