Red, White, Blue Socks. Part Second Being the Second Book of the Series

Excerpt

BELLIGERENT POWERS.

Tuesday morning dawned "as clear as a bell," as an old lady once said, and the Dashahed Zouaves, if not exactly up with the sun, were awake and stirring at a much earlier hour than usual; and after a rather more careful washing and brushing than soldiers usually indulge in, assembled on the lawn, looking as bright as their own buttons.

"What fun it is to be soldiers!" cried a little lisping fellow, one of the privates. "I only wish thome Southerners would come along now, and you'd thee how I'd thmash 'em."

"Bravo, Louie!" said Harry, laughing; "I dare say, if we were to go to the wars, you'd keep on fighting the battles of your country till you were chopped into inch bits!"

"And pickled! I expect to be made Lieutenant-general, Commander-in-chief, Colonel, Major, Captain, Lieutenant, Sergeant Hamilton at the very least!"

"Pooh! that's nothing to the feats of bravery I intend to perform!" cried Peter. "In my first battle I shall capture a 2,000-pound columbiad with one hand tied behind me, and carry it home for a paper weight!"

"While I'm charging a regiment of mounted infantry single handed, and making them throw away their swords, and pistols, and things, and run for that 'last ditch' of theirs double quick!" said Will Costar, laughing; "but here comes breakfast, I'm happy to say. It strikes me camping out makes a fellow awful hungry, as well as no end of brave."

A servant who had been sent from the house with breakfast materials, now approached, and the table being laid, the soldiers drew their camp stools around it; Colonel Freddy sitting at the head and pouring out coffee with great gravity. Everything was going on smoothly enough, when Harry tilted the tray on one side, and Charley knocked his elbow on the other, and away went the coffee to the very end of the table!

"Charley," exclaimed the Colonel, severely, "what do you mean, sir? I'll have you put in arrest if you don't look out!"

"Who'll put me there?"

"Me!" shouted Peter. "I'm the boy to manage refractories. You'll see how I will come after you with a sharp stick—bayonet, I mean—and put you in arrest like that!" snapping his fingers.

"By the way, when we've caught our rebels, where is the prison to be?" asked Jimmy.

"Why, in the smoke house. There's a patent spring bolt on the door—father had it fixed the last time we had hams made; and if anybody was once in there, they'd never get out in the world, unless they could draw themselves fine like a wire and squeeze through the chimney."

"We'll take care to keep out of it, then!" said Charley; "so, Colonel, I beg pardon for tilting the biggin—I didn't mean to do it so much—really!"

"I, too!" cried Harry; "shake hands, old chap!"

Good-tempered Freddy, always ready to "make up," caught a hand of each of his comrades, and breakfast went on amicably.

Now, there lived in the house an old English man servant named Jerry Pike. He had formerly been a groom and attendant on Peter's uncle, Major Schermerhorn, and volunteered in the army at the time of the war with Mexico, that he might follow his dear master, whom he had served and loved ever since the Major was a mere boy....