As it shot around a turn, and Gadsby was walking sadly toward City Hall, a Grammar School boy hurrying up to him said:—
“Wow!! I wish I could go to war!”
“Hi!” said Gadsby. “If it isn’t Kid Banks!”
“Aw! Cut that kid stuff! I’m Allan Banks! Son of Councilman Banks!”
“Oh, pardon. But you don’t want to go to war, boy.”
“Aw! I do too!!”
“But young boys can’t go to war.”
“I know that; and I wish this will last until I grow so I can go. It’s just grand! A big cannon says Boom! Boom! and,—”
“Sit down on this wall, boy. I want to talk to you.”
“All right. Shoot!”
“Now look, Allan. If this war should last until you grow up, just think of how many thousands of troops it would kill. How many grand, good lads it would put right out of this world.”
“Gosh! That’s so, ain’t it! I didn’t think of guys dyin’.”
“But a man has to think of that, Allan. And you will, as you grow up. My two big sons just put off on that big troop train. I don’t know how long Bill and Julius will stay away. Your big can-
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