"I know I'm a blacksmith at takin' keer 'a sick folks, an' yeh never squeaked.

Yer a good un, Henry.

Most 'a men would a' been in th' hospital long ago.

A shot in th' head ain't foolin' business." The youth made no reply, but began to fumble with the buttons of his jacket.
"Well, come, now," continued his friend, "come on.

I must put yeh t' bed an' see that yeh git a good night's rest." The other got carefully erect, and the loud young soldier led him among the sleeping forms lying in groups and rows.