nd he had laid his ghost.
But Molly Brownwell had her check, and her father was saved.

That evening the colonel sat with Watts McHurdie, on the broad veranda
of the Culpepper home, and as the moon came out, General Ward wandered
up the walk and Jake Dolan came singing down the street about "the
relic of old dacincy--the hat me father wore." Perhaps he had one
drink in him, and perhaps two, or maybe three, but he clicked the gate
behind him, and seeing the three men on the veranda, he called out:--

"Hi, you pig-stealing Kansas soldiers, haven't ye heard the war is
over?" And then he carolled: "Oh, can't get 'em up, Oh, can't get 'em
up, Oh, can't get 'em up in the mornin'--Get up, you"--but the rest
of the song, being devoted to the technical affairs of war, and ending
with a general exhortation to the soldier to "get into your breeches,"
would give offence to persons of sensitive natures, and so may as well
be omitted from this story.

There was an awkward pause when Dolan came on the veranda. The general
had just tried to break the ice, but Dolan was going at too high a
speed to be checked.

"Do you know," he asked, "what I always remember when I hear that
call? You do not. I'll tell you. 'Twas the morning of the battle of
Wilson's Creek, and Mart and me was sleeping under a tree, when the
bugler of the Johnnies off somewhere on the hill he begins to crow
that, and it wakes Mart up, and he rolls over on me and he says:
'Jake,' he says, or maybe 'twas me says, 'Mart,' says I--anyway, one
of us says, 'Shut up your gib, you flannel-mouthed mick,' he says,
'and let me pull my dream through to the place where I find the
money,' he says. And I says, 'D'ye know what I'm goin' to do when I
get home?' says I. 'No,' says he, still keen for that money; 'no,'
says he, 'unless it is you're going to be hanged by way of diversion,'
he says. 'I'm going to hire a bugler,' says I. 'What fer--in the name
of all the saints?' says he. 'Well,' says I, 'I'm going to ask him to
blow his damn horn under my window every morning at five o'clock,' I
says, 'and then I'm going to get up and poke my head out of the window
and say: "Mister, you can get me up in the army, but on this occasion
would you be obliging enough to go to hell"!' And Mart, seeing that
the money was gone from his dream, he turns over and wallops me with
the blanket till I was merely a palpitating mass. That was a great
battle, though, boys--a great battle."

And then th