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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.

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

"And a suit of unie-fawm!" called Cécile, with her Creole accent.

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"If I tell you that," said the Captain, "you won't like me the least bit."

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