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"No, I would not!" But I had to yield. My dream was that our General had told me a fable. It was of a young rat, which seeing a cockerel, whose tail was scarcely longer than his own, leap down into a barrel, gather some stray grains of corn and fly out again, was tempted to follow his example, but having got in, could only stay there. The boys furnished the moral; it was not complimentary.

I clenched my teeth. "I am nineteen, madam."

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

Old Dismukes rose. "Good-night. Shall I send this boy that Yankee's horse?"

"Oh--I--just don't feel as if I could, that's all."

Breathe, O! breathe to me, as these love-languid skies To yon twilight star breathe, Return, return!

My whole nature was upheaved. You may smile, but my plight was awful. In the sultry night I grew cold. My bridle-hand, still lying under her palm, turned and folded its big stupid fingers over hers. Then our hands slid apart and we rode back. "I wish I were good enough to know the stars," she said, gazing up. "Tell me some of them."

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