Those were Pickett's men that just
passed--about all there are left now."
A little while afterwards, she added: "It is not so gay as one of your
Grand Army Days, is it? You see ... it all comes home very close to us.
Those old men that can't be with us much longer are our mothers'
brothers, and sweethearts, and uncles, and fathers. They went out so
young--so brave and full of hope--they poured out by hundreds of
thousands. Down this very street they marched, no more than boys, and
our mothers stood here where we are standing, to bid them godspeed. And
now look at what is left of them, straggling by. There is nobody on this
porch--but you--who did not lose somebody that was dear to them. And
then there was our pride ... for we were proud. So that is why our old
ladies cry to-day."
"And why your young ladies cry, too?"
"Oh, ... I am not crying."
"Don't you suppose I know when people are crying and when they
aren't?--Why do you do it?"
Sharlee lowered her eyes. "Well ... it's all pretty sad, you know ...
pretty sad."
She turned away, leaving him to his own devices.
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