of the dance-house, cooked our meals
out in the garden, spread our food on the old beer tables, and imagined
we were proprietors of the place, or guests of the government. We always
ordered beer or expensive wines with our meals. Not that we ever got
any beer or wine, because the beer garden was deserted, but we put on a
great deal of style.

We found a lot of champagne bottles out in the back yard, and I do not
think I ever took a meal there without having a champagne bottle sitting
beside me on the table, and when any citizens were passing along the
street we would take up the bottles, look at the label in a scrutinizing
way, as though not exactly certain in our minds whether we were getting
as good wine as we were paying for. The old empty bottles gave us a
standing in Carrollton society that nothing else could have given us.
Some of the boys got so they could imitate the popping of a champagne
cork to perfection, by placing one finger in the mouth, prying the cheek
around on one side, and letting it fly open suddenly. We would have
several of the boys with aprons on, and when anybody was passing on the
street, one of us would call, "Waiter open a bottle of that extra dry."
The waiter would say, "Certainly, sah," take a bottle between his knees,
run his finger in his mouth and make it pop, and then pretend to pour
out the champagne in glasses, imitating the "fizzing" perfectly. It was
the extra dryest champagne that I ever had. But all that foolishness had
the desired effect. It convinced the citizens of Carrollton that we were
no ordinary soldiers. We were all nicely dressed, had no guards, and
apparently no officers, had plenty of money, which we spent freely at
the stores, and the impression soon got out that we were on some special
service, and there was, of course, much curiosity to know our business.
I learned that we were looked upon as secret service men, and I told the
boys about it, and advised them not to tell that we were recruits, but
to put on an air of mystery, and we would have fun while we remained.
One day an oldish gentleman who lived near, and who had a fine orange
plantation, or grove, toward which we had cast longing eyes, called at
the dance-house where we were quartered. We had just finished our frugal
meal, and the empty bottles were being taken away. He addressed me, and
said, "Good day, Colonel." I responded as best I could, and invited him
to be seated. I apologized for not offering him a g