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when, just as our last note died among the trees one of us cried, "Listen!" and through the stillness there came from far away on our right the last three measures of a bugle sounding The March.

The man who had got me into this thing--this barrel--lifted the tent-flap. "Mr. Gholson," said the General, "write an order assigning Smith to Ferry's scouts."

"Don't interrupt me, Smith. Yes, Clifton. You're not to reach there to-night--"

"Ah, but she is a wonder. In a state of society more finished--"

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