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"Well, no. It's the horse he captured the time he got the Yankee who had him prisoner."

"Look!" he said, and gave the glance and smile of the lady in the curtained wagon so perfectly that I cackled like a small boy. "Oh, you know that, do you? I dare you to say she didn't bring it!"

"And yet," he began to add,--

"Doesn't a good story revive the poetry of our actual lives?" He wiped the rim of his cap with a handkerchief of yellow silk enriched at one corner with needlework.

"That's a lie," he pleasantly remarked, and lay back, enjoying my silent wrath. "Send him, General," he added, "he's your man."

"Nonsense!" muttered both men, and I liked them the better.

"Tell her I tried to keep my promise to her."

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