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"Would I not tell my dream, as nice young men in the Bible always did?"

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

I shook my head and we moved toward the tents. This was worse than the dream; the rat had not seen the cockerel, but the cockerel had observed the rat--dropping into the barrel: the cockerel, yes, and not the cockerel alone, for I saw that Gholson was associating him with her of the curtained wagon. By now they were side and side. I asked if Ferry came often to headquarters. "Yes, quite as often as he's any business to." "Ah, ha!" thought I, and presently said I had heard he was a great favorite.

"Oh, hang the uniform!"

He smiled, chirped the horses up and resumed his chat. I heard him praise my horse and compare him not unfavorably with his own which he had lost that morning'. He and a few picked men had been surprised in a farmhouse at breakfast. They had made a leap and a dash, he said, but one horse and rider falling dead, his horse, unhurt, had tumbled over them, and here was his rider.

"Read the address on your despatch," said Gholson, resuming his pen.

"Too tired?"

"Mis-ter Smith! you wrote that?--to-day! Wh'--who is she?"

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