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The General asked me a number of idle questions and then said my prisoner had called me a good soldier. Old Dismukes smiled so broadly that I grew hot, believing the Yankee had told them of my tears.

"I can do it, General."

Yet great is precept. Precept is a well. Up from its far depths by slow, humble, constant process you may draw, in a slender silver thread, and store for sudden use, the pure waters of character.

In a secluded north-and-south road he looked back and beckoned me to his side: "You saw Major Harper's brother land safe and sound, you say? He told you this morning he is acquainted with your mother, eh; but not how?"

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