He used to be the life of all the camp,
and now he hardly ever speaks. Seems like he has grieved most to death.
I wonder why? Losing a few men don't often hurt a soldier so.
Hop. (again looking off across the river). Perhaps it isn't that.
Evans. I wonder why--(he stops, as the sound of voices is heard
among the trees (Left). Hello! What's that?
[Off (Left) a child is heard.
The Child. Come on, come on; it's recess!
Hop. Who is it?
Evans. Them children from the school, I guess. It's just a little
way up the road, I've heard; we'd better duck!
Hop. Yes; back in the trees. No one must see us (he looks off
(Left). Hello! Who's that with them?
Evans. The school ma'm, I guess. Come.
Hop. (looking intently off). You go; I'll come in a second.
[Exit Evans.
Miss Charlotte! Have they come to this? She teaching school!
[He exits (Right) among the trees.
A Little Girl's Voice (nearer). Come on, come on; we're going to
the camp.
[Enter by the road (Left) a little group of children; they are
very small, between the ages of six and ten, all dressed
in poor, home-made garments; some of the girls have shawls
over their heads.
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