Kinley himself had been on furlough but once, in December, 1862.
"What will you do, lieutenant?" asked one of the captains when the matter was being discussed.
"I have thought it over, and I am going to stick until the war is ended," was the quiet answer. "I've been lucky not to be shot, and equally lucky not to be sick, and I don't think it would be right for me to leave, when Uncle Sam needs every man he can get." And so he remained, and a number of his war comrades remained with him.
It was a sad day when those who had been mustered out started for home. They carried the old colors with them, for the flag was so riddled by shot and shell that it could no longer be used on the battlefield. There was the parting with tent-mates, with those who had stood shoulder to shoulder when death was close at hand. Many a hand-shaking took place in silence, for those who looked into each other's moist eyes were afraid to speak for fear of breaking down.
Leaving Staunton, after having destroyed
