face, and a naturally affectionate tone in his words.
I was a poor boy, with very little to help me along in college.
My struggles with want were severe.
Putting both hands on my shoulders, and looking into my face, Foster would frequently say, Mac, how are you getting along?
If reluctant to disclose the truth, in sympathetic tones of voice he would coax me to tell him. If I consented, it was sure to fill his eyes with tears.
He had a tender heart; tears came quickly and easily.
With a voice made husky by emotion he would often say, Never mind, Mac, you will get along, and come out right side up in the end.
Many a timely favor came into my hands from some unknown source in the Class.
It was very evident to my mind that he was often very intimately concerned in those favors.
Colonel Lawrence, of the Fifth Massachusetts Militia, was also a classmate of Hodges, and gives the following account of the way in which Hodges enlisted, and afterwards saved his Colonel's life at the