Sometimes there rose, faint in his memory, a whimsical picture, yet one that had always meant much to him.

He would see an old man sitting with a little boy upon a rustic bench under a walnut tree to watch the "Decoration Day Parade" go by--and Ramsey would see a shoot of sunshine that had somehow got through the walnut tree and made a bedazzlement of glinting fine lines over a spot about the size of a saucer, upon the old man's thick white hair.

And in Ramsey's memory, the little boy, sitting beside the veteran, would half close his eyes, drowsily, playing that this sunshine spot was a white bird's-nest, until he had a momentary dream of a glittering little bird that dwelt there and wore a blue soldier cap on its head.

And Ramsey would bring out of his memory thoughts that the old man had got into the child's head that day.

"We knew that armies fighting for the Freedom of Man _had_ to win, in the long run....