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"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."

"No," I rejoined, "the first step would be the last."

"My dear madam, you don't realize ours. We don't want to imprison women."

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

"It's twenty miles off; why are you not with it? What are you doing here?"

"Sa-ay! I'll wrastle you fo' them-ah clo'es."

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