His
interest in all scientific problems was keen, and he had always
maintained the open mind of youth to all inventions.
Socola and Jennie strolled through the city for an hour until the crank
levee was over. The President's secretary, Burton Harrison, promised
them an interview at the end of that time. He ushered them into the room
under the impression that all the callers had gone. He had overlooked a
modest, timid youth who had quietly approached the Chief Executive's
desk.
They paused until he was at leisure. The moment was one of illumination
for Socola. He saw a trait of character in the Southern leader whose
existence he had not suspected.
"My name is Ashe--Mr. President, S. A. Ashe," the youth began.
Davis bowed gravely.
"Have a seat, sir."
The boy sat down and twiddled his cap nervously.
"I've come to ask an appointment of some kind in the regular army of the
Confederacy. I'm an officer of the North Carolina militia. I wish to
enter the regular army."
The Confederate chieftain looked at the peculiarly youthful, beardless
face. He couldn't be more than eighteen from appearances.
"I'm afraid you're too young, sir," he said slowly, shaking his head.
The boy drew himself up with a touch of wounded pride.
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