One of our volunteers in the late war lost some of his first enthusiasm under the bitter experience of campaigning. One night at the front in France, while his company was stationed in a wood, a lieutenant discovered the recruit sitting on a log and weeping bitterly. The officer spoke roughly:
“Now, what are you bawling about, you big baby?”
“I wish I was in my daddy’s barn!” replied the soldier in a plaintive voice.
“In your daddy’s barn!” the astonished lieutenant exclaimed. “What for? What would you do if you were in your daddy’s barn?”
“If I was in my daddy’s barn,” the youth explained huskily through a choking sob, “I’d go into the house mighty quick!”