throwback phillies

"Good-bye, New Orleans soldier-boy," she said, gaily, and as I raised my cap she gave herself a fetching air and added, "I'll wager I know your name."

She struck a mock-sentimental attitude and murmured musically--

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

Five, ten, fifteen minutes dragged by. Counting them helped me to lie still. Then I caught another pregnant sound, a mumbling of male voices in the adjoining front room. I waited a bit, hearkening laboriously, and then ever so gradually I slid from the bed, put on everything except my boots, and moved by inches to the door between the two rooms. It was very thin; "a good sounding-board," thought I as I listened for life or death and hoped my ear was the only one against it.

He hiccoughed. "Let's--s'--see y' orders."

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