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"Are you not a New Orleans boy?" she asked as I lifted my képi and drew rein.

I had not. Her driver gathered the reins and I drew back.

"Law, you hain't!" cried Mrs. Wall, smiling back as she jounced. "If you air, the Majo's sisteh's got written awdehs fo' you."

"I can do it, General."

"I was so anxious about you," she replied, with feeling, and then broke into a quizzical laugh.

I attempted an evasion. "Oh--a blanket on the ground--face covered up in it from the mosquitos--is really--"

He spurted a pint to reply, "Fishe's batt'ry."

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