"  I  don  't  think  I  can,  ma'am,"  the  man  an-
swered with  his  finger  at  his  hat  brim.  "  The
avenoo  is  closed,  ma'am."

"Oh,  I  forgot,"  Mrs.  Carter  said  to  herself.
"  I  '11  go  there  to-morrow."

It  was  just  at  this  very  moment  that  Hart
had  succeeded  in  grinding  his  way  through  the
crowd  to  Miss  Hollingsworth's  door.  Hawkins,
the  pompous,  declared  that  the  ladies  "  was  hall
hout,"  and  took  his  cards,  glancing  at  them
superciliously.
After  spending  a  quarter  of  an  hour  elbow-
ing along  the  sidewalks,  and  only  progressing
seven  or  eight  blocks,  Newton  determined  to
cross  to  the  other  side  of  the  street.  Seizing  a
moment  when  a  policeman's  back  was  turned,
he  made  the  opposite  corner  without  much
trouble.  But  now  the  thundering  of  drums,
and  the  throbbing  of  brass-bands  was  in  the
air.  There  was  a  swaying  of  the  multitude,
and  headed  by  a  cordon  of  mounted  police,  the
Seventy-first  Regiment  Band  swept  down  the
avenue.  AS  far  up  as  one  could  see  were  lines


A  Call.  383

of  helmets  and  bayonets,  with  here  and  there  a
flag  slanting  upwards,  or  a  mounted  officer  ris-
ing above  the  rank  and  file.
Newton  had  never  seen  so  great  a  gathering
of  armed  men,  and  the  scene  impressed  him.
It  meant  more  to  him  than  merely  a  holiday
procession  of  holiday  soldiers  ;  it  was  just  this
same  class  of  men  that  had  gone  to  fight  the
battles  at  the  front :  clerks  and  mechanics,
artisans  and  laborers,  "  butchers,  bakers,  and
candlestick-makers,"  and  young  men  of  means
and  leisure, — the  citizen-soldiery  of  the  North.
