Energy books

"Hard days, Barry, they were, but your mother never failed me. Wonderful
courage she had, and if we were all right, you and I, Barry, she was
always happy. Do you remember her?"
"Yes, dad, quite well. I remember her smiling always."
"Smiling, my God! Smiling through those days. Yes, that's the way she
played the game, and that's the only way, boy."
"Yes, dad," said Barry, and his smile was brighter than ever, but his
knuckles showed white where he gripped the chair.
The nurse came and went, wondering at their bright faces and their
cheery voices. They kept their minds upon the old happy days. They
recalled their canoe trips, their hunting experiences, dwelling mostly
upon the humorous incidents, playing the game. Of the war they spoke
little; not at all of what was to be after--the past, the golden, happy
past, rich in love and in comradeship, that was their one theme.
As night fell, the father grew weary, and his periods of sleep grew
longer, but ever as he woke he found his son's face smiling down upon
him.


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