"It is a good name," he replied, civilly; "there are many decent folk that use it. And now that I call to mind, there was a young gentleman, your namesake, that marched surgeon in the year '45 with my battalion."
"I believe that would be a brother to Balfour of Baith," said I, for I was ready for the surgeon now.
"The same, sir," said James More. "And since I have been fellow-soldier with your kinsman, you must suffer me to grasp your hand."
He shook hands with me long and tenderly, beaming on me the while as though he had found a brother.
"Ah!" says he, "these are changed days since your cousin and I heard the balls whistle in our lugs."
"I think he was a very far-away cousin," said I, drily, "and I ought to tell you that I never clapped eyes upon the man."
"Well, well," said he, "i
