home."

"That does me good, Somers," continued the captain. "There's nothing like
music for the nerves. It wakes men up, and makes them forget all their
troubles. Forward, the light brigade!" he added, flourishing his sword in
the air. "I suppose you know that poem, Somers?"

"Of course; I know it by heart; read it in school the last day I ever
went."

"Did you, indeed?"

"Nothing very singular about that, is there?"

"Rather a remarkable coincidence, I should say," replied the captain with
easy indifference, as he twirled his sword on the ground.

"I don't see it."

"You read the poem at school, and I was in that charge."

"You?"

"Yes, my boy. I was a captain in that brigade. But what called the
circumstance to my mind was the music which struck up just now. I had a
bugler in my company who played 'Hail, Columbia' during the whole of the
fight."

"'Hail, Columbia?'" demanded Somers.

"Certainly; the fellow had a fancy for that tune; and though it wasn't
exactly a national thing to the British army, he always played it when he
got a chance. Well, sir, I think that bugler did more than any other man
in the charge of the light brigade. He never lost a note, and it fired
the men up to the pitch of frenzy."

"He was a brave fellow," replied Somers languidly; for he was too
thoroughly worn out to appreciate the stories of his veteran companion.

"He was the most determined man I ever met in my life. He was killed in
the charge, poor fellow; but he had filled his bugle so full of wind,
that the music did not cease till full five minutes after he was
stone-dead."

"Come, come, captain! that's a little too bad," said Somers seriously.

"Too bad? Well, I should not be willing to take oath that the time was
just five minutes after the bugler died. I did not take out my watch, and
time it; and, of course, I can only give you my judgment as to the
precise number of minutes."

"You are worse than Baron Munchausen, who told a story something like
that; only his was the more reasonable of the two."

"Somers, my boy! you have got a villainously bad habit of discrediting
the statements of a brother-officer and a gentleman," said Captain de
Banyan seriously.

"And you have got a bad habit of telling the most abominable stories that
ever proceeded from the mouth of any man."

"We'll drop the subject, Somers; for such discussions lead to unpleasant
results. Do you see that rebel battery?" added the captain, point