The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1892-12-24

guard or the DlIIoWS upon Dlll0WS OF russell
and brown leaves, heaped up and pressed
down upon the earthen floor. Leaves swell
up in fragrant masses behind the rawhide
saddles; leaves are blown into fantastic
eddies in the hollows of the stiff canvas,
leaves with smoking and blackened edges
rim the hot ashes of the fire, and other
leaves sitting down from the nearly naked
branches Of the tall trees are visible by
the light of the fire, if only key cares to
raise his black eyes from the fascinating
glow of the Goals.
The smell of leaves and the smoke of
leaves burning is the pungent perfume.
sweet and drowsy, that enyelops the ru-
minant Isaac, and the studious Ohld, and
the plucked form of the Christmas turkey
hanging. for safety, in the apex of the wig
wan.
Bugler Ohld keeps one wary eye on the
face of his watch, and now he steps outside
in the freight, and facing to the camp
blows the clear, precise notes of the ''taps."
Lights out Lights out! Lights out over
yonderl Mechanically he hangs the
shining instrument in it's particular place,
while through all the batteries far and
near the same sweet refrain rises and falls
and swells and dies over the fields and
melts into the soft chorus of distant drum
beats like. an endless chime of muffled
Christmas bells.
key listened to the music of the camps,
and cast scornful eye on the methodical
bugler spreading his blankets and pulling
off his boots. Bang! went rifle in the
nearest infantry camp, and the 'Halt!
haltr', of the surly guard mingled with the
smoke and the curses down by the creek.
"At it again, the fools!' sneered the
bugler, crawling into his bed.
WHO'S fool?" cried key, losing his
temper at the word and scrambling onto
his feet. WHO'S a fool, you lazy, hulkin
son of a turtle? Them fellers slippin guard
in the Sixtieth has forgot more'n ever you
knew You'd lie an rot in camp. you
would, an starve yer bloomin belly on
wormy hard tack afore you'd jayhawk a
later. Come off; you make me tired,
you do"
saw, give us rest, Ike" growled the
even tempered Ohld, rolling over in the
blankets, his face TO the canvas and his
back to the tempest. "Who picked the
turkey?"
sWho picked the turkey, is it," cried
Ike. whats pickin one turkey to goin
five mile outside the line to snatch it? I
wisht the CUTS an feathers was showed
inter yer blasted bugle. Who's goin after
the -four for the plum puddin? Oh, / be,
of course sneeringly. "S'pose ye don't
think Pm tired, don't YEP" By this time
the obdurate bugler was snoring comfort
ably, and keys anger and enterprise rose
at the sound.
s'Blarst his sniveling bugle," muttered
the little guidon, at the same time admin
istering kick to the second horn.
In fifteen minutes thereafter two raiders
after keys own heart were gathered
with him by the fire-Teddy Gregan, lead
driver. of the first gun, with his brains
seething in his cap at the 'opporchunity,"
and Snoopy Schley, who, if he couldn't
blow 1.-THE general' on parade, could jay
hawk the shoes off the guard and make
the guard think he had done it himself.
"Isitraidin the mill ye are?" says Teddy,
taking a reef in his belt "Oi'm wild yez,
me byes; but, begorra, it's not lawn that in
nocent turkey suhpinded in the moonlight
to be timptin the drivers ye'd be. Sure
he'd fly away afore the mornin, an divil
shtraw wud that trumpetin bla'gard lay
in his way. Bedad, OIL fix the two of UNI.
Yer a family man, Bugler Ovid" says
Teddy as he turned down the blankets
and laid the turkey in the arms of the
sleeper and disposed the red, wattled head
lovingly under his chin. "We'll make
some use av yez shlapin."
Then up spoke Snoopy. Say, chappies,
volts der matter wild disguisin ourselves as
infantry? Dere's tree short cape coats in
de extra horses. A blouse is a blouse, an
plain pants gives nobody away. De cross
guns an letters goes in 'ur pockets; seer"
\ of+ %l,,x /. 4 ..,%,
Snoopy Schley's suggestion; ''ther's nothin
to catch US by but the "a on the buttons"
''An the shcruff av the neck, said Teddy,
feeling the shortness of his own hair in
that locality.
"Faix, liftinant," says Teddy week aft
erward, I'VE was takin the Dist o. care av
the ripetation O. the batthery an the good
name av the ARTILLERY altogether fur that
matther. There didn't be SO much as
@, or crossgun betune us. an that was
Snoopy Schley's idee. The only dab O. red
on us was the Maltese cross on 'ur caps,
sor. and bejabers we chalked that to favor
the Second division That Snoopy is a
daisy, he is, scr, to be wastin fust class
talents on d brass horn-cool as a cow
cumber an shlippery as an eel-that's
Snoopy"
It was somewhere between taps and 10,
by the second bugler's watch, when the
three hastily improvised infantrymen
crawled out Of camp. The moon was at
the full sailing high through the light
clouds, and now and then plunging like
ship into a, darker bank piled up by the
Christmas Wind, that nipped noses and
duttered eapes as it rustled on its way over
the fields. When the moon was plunging
the boys stole across the open; at other
hines they chung to the shelter of the
fences.
"It's tree days we've been here" says
Teddy in a hoarse whisper, ian it's divil
rail there'l1 be left when we'll be here
foive. Sure the beauty av the soldierin is
The foine work we gets in betune night an
barrin the fightin, which is mostly
Ill drillin, an bed cess to ut"
"Phwat's the matter wild shtalen a rush
On the guard an tyin him wild gag in his
mouth while we does the job" continued
Teddy chafng at the temporary hindrance
IF the light.
sGit out wild ye fur a blunderin moke,"
says Snoopy; who'll be untyin Of i'm
when we've Quilted der mill?'
"Of one haversack of four" chimed in
Tkav ttEorna off faTlarS. Won talk like two