owledged their greeting.

"Men and women," he said, in a voice which although low, one could see
was accustomed to being obeyed, "I thank you for your cheers. It makes
my heart rejoice to hear them, for I know you are not cheering me
personally but only as one of the many men who are fighting for the
cause of liberty and freedom, and for----" the general's voice broke a
little, but he mastered his emotion and went on--"for the flag we all
love."

At this he pulled from his pocket an American flag and held it up so
that all could see. Cheer after cheer rent the air, and tears came to
the general's eyes at this mark of devotion to the common cause.

"Wipe the d--d rebels off the face of the earth, G-d d--'em," shouted a
too enthusiastic member of the crowd who, I fear, was a little the worse
for drink. In an instant General Grant had stepped up to him and fixed
upon him those fearless blue eyes.

"My man," said the general, "It hurts me to hear you give vent to those
oaths, especially in the presence of ladies. Soldiers do not curse, and
I think you would do well to follow their example."

The other lowered his head shamefacedly. "General," he said, "You're
right and I apologize."

A smile lit up the general's handsome features and he extended his hand
to the other.

"Shake on it," he said simply, and as the crowd roared its approval of
this speech the two men "shook".

Meanwhile within the van der Griff house all were agog with excitement
in expectation of the arrival of the distinguished guest. Expensively
dressed ladies fluttered here and there amid the elegant appointments;
servants in stylish livery passed to and fro with trays of wine and
other spirituous liquors.

At the sound of the cheering outside, the haughty Mrs. Rhinelander
patted her daughter Geraldine nervously, and between mother and daughter
passed a glance of understanding, for both felt that to-night, if ever,
was Geraldine's opportunity to win the handsome and popular general.

The doorbell rang, and a hush fell over the chattering assemblage;
then came the proud announcement from the doorman--"General Ulysses S.
Grant"--and all the society belles crowded forward around the guest of
honor.

It had been rumored that the general, being a soldier, was ignorant of
social etiquette, but such proved to be far from the case. Indeed, he
handled himself with such ease of manner that he captivated all, and for
each and every young miss he had an ap