g furtive sheep's eyes from time to time at the upright
soldier, and looking as if she would very much like to say to him: "Oh!
how frightened I am of you!"

"Why don't you sit down, Mr. Soldier?" she says at last; "don't you see
that chair there? And here have I been dusting it so nicely for you."

"A pretty thing for an orderly to sit down in the General's
ante-chamber," replies the defender of his country. "Short irons would
be very soon ready for me, I can tell you."

"Then why are you here at all?"

"That is not for your ears, my little sister."

"You are looking for the General, eh? Well, he is inside that room there
along with my lady, his wife--why don't you go in?"

"You've a nice idea of manners, I must say! What! an orderly to make his
way into the room of the General's lady!"

"Then give the letter here and I'll take it in for you."

"Now, my little sister, that's quite enough! What! deliver a letter into
the hands of anybody but the person to whom it is addressed!"

"Do you know how to write, Mr. Orderly?"

"What a question! Ask me another! Why, if I could write I should have
become a sergeant long ago."

"Why don't you take off that shako? It's pretty heavy, ain't it?"

"Now, my little wench, that's quite enough! Right about turn, quick
march! They are calling you in the kitchen."

The nursery-maid scuttled off. The veteran was getting quite angry at
all these simple questions.

In no very long time, however, the neat little wench came sidling back
again. First she poked her head through the kitchen door as if she
wanted to find out whether the big soldier there would bite off her
nose--which was a little snub, and small enough already.

"Mr. Orderly, the cook has sent you three hearth cakes."

"Good."

"Take them then." This she said, still keeping at a safe distance, and
thrusting forward the nice lard-made hearth cakes as if she were
offering them to some snappy, snarling watch-dog at the end of a long
chain.

"I can't," answered the gallant defender of his country sturdily.

"Ain't you got hands, then?"

"No, not for them. But if you like you can tuck them into my
cartridge-box behind there."

"What, in there?" inquired snub-nose amazedly. "But ain't there
gunpowder inside?"

"Shove 'em in, they won't hurt it."

"Won't it explode?"

"Not unless a spark from your eyes catches it."

The nursery-maid timidly lifted the brightly-polished lid of the
cartridge-box, peeping ha