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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.

"Do you want to see him?" I gathered my horse.

I looked carefully at my companion and asked him if the Major had said all of that. He had, and Gholson's hide had turned it without taking a scratch. "That's fine!--as to Ferry," I said.

"Jim," said the younger, "I don't believe all the conscripts we've caught these three days are worth the powder they've cost!"

"Hi! there goes one of them!--Halt!--Halt, you blue--" pop!--pop!--pop!

He admitted that by the true religionist's standard it was not honest, but reminded me that Ned Ferry--in his blindness--was only a poor romanticist. The despatch was addressed to Lieutenant Edgard Ferry-Durand.

He spurted a pint to reply, "Fishe's batt'ry."

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